JOIN OUR REVOLUTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The new and improved Drunken Absurdity dot come has been kicking ass and getting great reviews from the masses! Come check out the best in underground and alternative literature, art, poetry, and music!!!

The Revolution Calls

FUCKING COMPUTERS

So last night, after Courtney made incredible progress with the DA site relaunch, my laptop shit the bed and EVERYTHING has been erased from my hard drive. Every damn thing gone. LUCKILY I still have all the DA Revolutionaries submissions saved to my email, but I will have to go through them all again and edit them. FUCK FUCK FUCK.

But haters, don't you worry. Some little gay computer virus is not going to stop the Revolution from taking over the online Lit world. That's why it's called a revolution. A movement does just that, moves a certain length, then it stops. But a revolution is always coming back in your face!

We won't be stopped.

September 1st....

40,000 views!!

kicking ass on the stats. 40k as of today, I am hoping for 100k by new years eve. Lets keep this shit rolling, the revolution will not die.......

A call for Drunk Chicks!!!!

For those who care, the work on the relaunch for DrunkenAbsurdity dot com is going amazing....I have commissioned extremely badass tattoo artist Tom Butts to design the new DrunkenAbsurdity logo that will be featured on the site, our stickers, and our tshirts....

Which brings us to......Drunk Chicks!!! The new site will feature a section where hot drunk girls send me pics of themselves rockin our tshirts in the bars, parties, and clubs of New England while they get nice and wasted. In return they will keep the shirt, and get 50 bucks cash money on me to get the party started. I have already sent out a call for girls on Craigslist, and had a great response so far...

Our Craigslist ad

For now, we are just in the RI CL, but eventually start posting in NY, LA, and my beloved hometown Vegas....

This shit is gettin hot. Gonna take DA to the next fucking level!!!!

James Cullen Bressack's: My Pure Joy

A few days ago, I opened my mail box to see a brown envelope addressed to me from Sherman Oaks, California. In it contained a screener for the new serial killer flick: My Pure Joy, from 19 year old director and writer James Cullen Bressack. I had first been in touch with Mr. Bressack when he contacted me via Drunken Absurdity dot com to ask if I would be willing to screen and review his debut masterpiece, which he made on a budget of 7k. I gleefully agreed, always excited to watch an indie horror film. 

When I first sat down to watch the film(with a good friend, my lady, and a bottle of good bourbon) I kept a certain open mind, as I usually do when viewing low budget indie movies. You expect a certain degree of bad acting, bad special effects, and ridiculous one-liners.....I was, however, left stunned. The movie I viewed was equally horrifying, funny, and enchanting in a way I could not believe. The raw and pure talent oozing from the film, in the form of James's writing and directing, and the acting of Alexei Ryan, who portrayed the main character Adam, was a fucking amazing surprise.

The film introduces us to Adam, a Southern California teen, who was raised with a traumatizing upbringing, and an obsession with slasher films. Overwhelmed with his past, and armed with the creative knowledge of death at the end of a sharp knife, Adam goes to work dispacthing friends and neighbors in a very disturbing, and sometimes shockingly original, fashion. There is one method of attack that I was so surprised, and thrilled, by that I WISH I could mention, but I have promised Mr. Bressack that I will not. I will say that a bladed weapon goes somewhere that I have never seen it gone before in my years of watching horror and slasher flicks. The acting by Alexei Ryan is haunting, convincing, and pure genius. I was entranced by the character of Adam, and equally sympathetic and disturbed by him. The acting of the supporting cast ranged from adequate to very excellent. Mr. Bressack stayed true to slasher movie roots, and added a giant share of teen drinking, drug use, sex, and VERY pleasant to view nudity.

James Cullen Bressack has certainly made himself a force to be reckoned with after this debut feature. My intoxicated group, once the movie was over, could not stop talking about just what the young auteur could produce with a higher budget and more distribution. The sky would certainly be the limit. To view this movie, I would say filmmakers like Eli Roth certainly have a serious force to be reckoned with. His ability to combine terror and comedy, along with teenage angst and behavior, is both refreshing and satisfying. I will also expect to see great things from Alexei Ryan, as his ability to have the audience completely convinced of his honesty is unparalleled in any indie movie I have seen in a long time.

When the time comes, and I hope it comes soon for all you deranged souls, please view this movie. You will not fucking regret it. I am honored that James has chosen Drunken Absurdity as a platform for his marvelous work, and I have already shown film to a select circle of friends, all of whom have raved about it. well fucking done, Mr. Bressack.

The Revolution: Under Construction

Today was supposed to be the day that Drunken Absurdity dot com re-launched with new material, but unfortunantly that will have to wait. I have decided, after the persuasive urgings of our webmaster(my gf), to give the site a whole new look, a complete makeover to make it more professional and more reflective of our styles.

Everyone that is posted on the old site, will of course be on the new one as well. All the submissions I have recieved to this point have been placed into a folder and will absolutely be posted once the facelift is complete. We are 100% still open for submissions. STILL FUCKING OPEN!!!!

The new site will have some new features I am excited about. One will be an Editors page for my personal work to be featured. The second will be my Drunk Chicks! section, whisch I have discussed on here before. So if you are a alt model, cam girl, or just hot chick who likes to drink, get in touch with us!!!

September 1st 2011

We will relaunch a fucking website to be reckoned with. I will be hard at work finding submissions, chicks, and doing interviews, so keep fucking reading and checking in.

Septemeber 1st, motherfuckers

we will mind rape you

join the Drunken Absurdity street team..

New stickers are in, and soon they will be making their way across the globe, getting slapped up in the night on light poles, street signs, sleeping hobos, and store fronts.

If you want to join the street team, and help spread the word of our glorious literary revolution, then drop me an email at drunkenabsurdity@gmail.com, and i will send you out a stack. I only ask that you fearlessly post them up where they will be seen by the masses, and send me a pic of one back.

Big thanks to Ben Smith, Ian Shearer, VL Sheridan, Willis Gordon, Laura Patterson, Arash Frazier, and Austin Grieg for doing such great work with the last round of stickers.

Lets keep this shit going

The Revolution is coming back!!

July 18th 2011

the re-launch of Drunken Absurdity dot com

join the revolution of underground writing

or die as the puppets of the establishment

we. are. back.........motherfuckers

Come Together: A drunken absurdity movie review........

First things first, I am drunk…
At first glance, it is very easy to judge this movie. The somewhat predictable characters. The plotline with an emphasis on drugs, booze, and sex. At first glance, it is easy to compare the flick to American Pie and others and see the intentions. But that is when I realized it is an onion.
Yes, an onion. It is initially hard to cut, and maybe even bring tears to the eyes with the first effort. But then, when properly coaxed, the underlying flavors and haunting taste set in and leave you fulfilled and hungry for more...
The tale, reported to be a true one, is about a group of barely legal teens left stranded in an upscale L.A. house during the famed 1992 riots, with a full bar, MANY drugs, and the underlying sexual tension this glorious ambience provides. We initially have all the usual suspects: The promiscuous SoCal hottie, the prudish but secretly slutty southern girl, the homework obsessed nerd, the brooding wannabe rock star, the perfectionist Asian dancer, the self loathing homosexual, and the proud ethnically aware African American. This cast finds themselves stranded with a lot of booze and lot of time to entice each other to dropping pants and getting down to business. It is not difficult to see how this would be a semi-likely scenario during a time of extreme social upheaval such as the Rodney King riots. Young adults throwing inhibitions to the wind in this time of change, in the Generation X version of Kent St. or 1969 Democratic Convention. Drinking and fucking and giving the finger to the proverbial chaos of the times.
Like I fucking said, an onion. At first, I was very willing to accept much of the flick as an eager and creative attempt to re-tell a story of want, desire, and social commentary. But then I began to see the honesty of the filmmaker, and appreciate very much the point that was being made. Like I said, easy to dismiss as fleeting obscenity. But I saw through to the art and comedy within taking place, and left the film pleased with the plot and conclusion, despite the somewhat cliché ending lines. I particularly enjoyed the overdose scene, very well written and shot.
Final conclusion: I must say I found enjoyment in this small budget movie. Honesty and earnest art in the guise of playful obscenity seeps through any dismissible plotline. Beautiful girls and absurdity bound men mingle together under extenuating circumstances and find life through sex and substance indulgence. I MUST say, I would have appreciated more nudity from the headlining actresses. We must remember that even young Shannon Elizabeth bared almost all in the first American Pie, and as have many beautiful actresses in such films. But I am content with the film, and will absolutely recommend it to friends and colleagues that respect the genre of independent films, and have not been brainwashed by corporate Hollywood to think that all movies require 100 million dollar budgets and so much CGI you feel like you are in a bad acid trip.

Drunken Absurdity rating: 3 ½ bottles( out of 5)


NOTE: The drunken absurdity website is in the process of adding a review page to feature movie, book, and booze reviews, and this will be the first film to be featured once completed.

The Drunken Absurdity site update

New work from our friend Kev Blundell, part 2 of VL Sheridans novella "The Gelding", and some dark and sensual poetry from our new Revolutionary Anita W is up on the site..

ANNNDD FINALLLYY!!!, Tom Butts, our latest Voice from the Underground, is up. The interview took much longer to transcribe and edit than expected due to the intricacies of recording inside a tattoo studio, but its finally done...check it the fuck out

the motherfuckin revolution

a drunken absurdity experiment

Tonight I will conduct an experiment into a subject I hold very dear to me: alcohol tolerance. As can be deduced by anyone I know more than 5 minutes, I enjoy a bit of liquid libation from time to time(ha!). While this has mostly been a positive journey for me in its own dark ways, there are some downfalls. Yes yes, liver damage etc etc blah blah. I mean something important. I am talking of course about tolerance. Due in part to my excessive intake, and also partly because of my sasquatch- like stature, my own tolerance has grown very high over the years. This sometimes has its benefits. It’s nice to be the last one still standing after a heavy bout of boozing. It’s nice to know that I can start earlier and go longer than most men I meet. It gives me a smug satisfaction. What’s worth doing, is worth doing right. You should always try your best hahaha. But one negative has come from this: it takes so much booze to get me fucked up, it can be frustrating. One casualty of this is my dear friend beer. Though I am primarily a whisky drinker, I have always had a soft place in my heart for quality beer. I despise the mass produced horse piss like brew that 99% of Americans would call beer, and am very excited to see the rise of excellent microbrews into nationwide corporations (Sam Adams, Dogfish Head, New Belgium). The problem is, boys and girls, that it takes far too many beers to get me twisted. It has gotten to the point that I would rather just use beer as punctuation of good food, as a companion to quality BBQ and tex-mex grub. But, alas, my heart grows fond for the days when a six pack of beer ensured that I would be nice and tipsy. SO, tonight will be an experiment: Just how many beers will it take me to get nice and nasty. I am drinking a case of Yuengling that my girlfriend’s brother was kind enough to bring me from Pennsylvania, as they do not have this delicious concoction here in New Engalnd. I will chronicle the timeline, and we will find out together. Cheers…
6:47 pm: Have just finished a dinner of pad thai and dumplings, and have finished beer #4. Feel absolutely normal, just a bit relaxed. Still sober as a judge.
7:35: 6 beers down, a tad bit tipsy. Watching tv, and realizing I need to increase the amount of consumption
8:18 pm: beer number ten down. Getting a little twisted, still able to type and speak fine. Watching SNL reruns, and reading crap online. Starting to suspect that this will be harder than I thought, as even though I am only a bit buzzed, I feel very full of fluids.
9:20: Beer twelve done. Pretty tipsy, but very functional
9:33: def pretty twisted. Past the thhe point of safe driving or texting. So full, kinda dizzy. Beer 13 done
9:44: I want to go to a strip club
10:06: beer 14 down. Feelin pretty sleepy, but functioning ok. Eating some chips too. Almost out of yuengling
10:20: beer 16 gone. Tired, a bit lightheaded, but still very capable of reasonable decision making. I can feel the tendrils of sobriety creeping up my leg, and realize that it would take my shotgunning several beers over the next few minutes to maintain a decent buzz.

So, in conclusion, I am somewhat proud of my own resilience to the effects of beer, and enjoy it as I may, I know that it will never bring about the debauchery and absurdity that can be found in a delicious bottle of bourbon or scotch. I am heading to bed with somewhat of a buzz, but not to the point that it will affect me fucking my naked girlfriend in a few minutes…

cheers

ajs

the rebellion grows......

The Drunken Absurdity site continues to spread like a wildfire, attracting submissions the world over. Check us out this weekend to read work from British writer/poet Kev Blundell, and German poet Claudia Schönfeld, as well as our interview with underground gay porn star Blaine Maxwell.

dont ever submit

Come check us out!!!

The DrunkenAbsurdity site has been gaining momentum, and word is spreading through the streets of our mission to bring voices to those usually kept in the shadows, and to profile the works of revolutionary artists, poets, and writers the world over. Check us out this week to see new work from Laura Patterson and Willis Gordon, as well as an awesome interview with an underground gay porn star. In addition, very soon we will be proud to feature an exclusive story direct from the very streets of revolution in Tunisia, from a young talented photographer named Nader Khelifi who was on the front lines for the whole glorious uprising against injustice and censorship.

Check the shit out

The Revolution

join the revolution!!!!

drunken absurdity dot com has officially hit the ground running. Check us out this week to read such revolutionary writers as Ben John Smith and Willis Gordon, and local Rhode Island poets Laura Patterson and Mike O'Hearn. And to truly dive into the muck, read our interview with the lovely Shelby Devine, a dancer turned escort and former drug addict.....

My Fortress of Schirlingtude

The streets are full of the trendy, the hip, the loud and fucked. 90 dollar shirts covering waxed and spray tanned bros. They stand like douchebag cattle outside their loud clubs, smoking and basking in the warmth of their bullshit and smug self worth. Cheap makeup plastered on girls dressed in their sluttiest best. The game continues for them. The hunt. The smell of PBR, desperation, and hardons fill the air. I make my way through this crowd, head down. Avoid eye contact, thats how they get you. A polite hello one minute to a semi-familiar face, and the next thing you know you are doing jagerbombs and dancing to a top 40 hit. Fuck No. Not me. Keep the head down. Weave through this tapestry of bullshit and fucked priorities. Stay anonymous. Keep the goal in mind. Target acquired. I see the green door. Relief washes through me like a cool crisp wave. Almost safe. Almost there. Don't lose focus now. Oh fuck, a drunk fat girl is making a scene, crying on the street, fatter friends trying to console her. Avoid this last obstacle. I reach it. Like a HOME, but without the judgment, and constant disappointment. The sign greets me, NO FUCKING HIPSTERS. This isn't the place for that. People take their drinking seriously here. Mass amounts are consumed in a unhealthy amount of time by the perpetually awesome. The truly blessed. Those that have no time for dancing and girly shooters. The door opens, beckoning, welcoming us back. Hug the doorman, a compatriot. I glance at my brother, I see the same look in his eyes. So many crazy things have happened in here. Too much of us......blood, sweat, tears, vomit......has been spilled on these floors for us to ever call another place home. Take the plunge, go down the stairs. Descending into the musty dank soothing womb. Madness awaits. I have seen it all here. The true dregs of humanity. Occasionally, despite the ominous undertones in the entryway, some of the brave tools will venture down, poke a head in. I see the disgust, the wrinkled brow. There is no bullshit here, not for the kind they crave. Get the fuck out. This is our place. The vibe is loud now. I see my brother yelling in the corner. My Guinness, number 5million tonight, is cold and soothing. A chick falls off her barstool. A fat uggo is puking in a trash can. the shitters are clogged again. I look up. Deep breathe. I am at home among the madness, the random acts of bullshit. I am at home.