effing blog

looking for paper

Can anybody recommend a good paper source for interesting cover stock?

I mean, hell, I live in a city of close to a million peeps.  There are a half dozen paper distros here at least, all with warehouses the size of a city block.  Yet nobody carries any interesting cover papers.  It's maddening.  It's bullshit. 

The art stores carry some good stuff but at the quantity I like to buy I would need to sell my kidney.  It's ridiculous.  I have a cutter and I have a car.  I'll buy parent sheets of whatever but I cannot / will not put up with the cheap stuff.  You know, the Astrobrights and the Exact Opaques.  I want some non primary colors.  I want some tooth.

Oh tell me what you know

I like paper and I need paper

I'm close to molotoving the

warehouses.  I'm close to

strangling joe bub who can't

tell a swatch book from a

two wheeled dolly.

So point me to the paper.  The holy mecca of cover stock.  Let the barrage of suggestions fill my in box and keep me from 15 to life for arson. 

Effing Press needs some eyes!  Be the eyes!

blurb

Kevin Sampsell, author of A Common Pornography, says of PLOTS by David Meiklejohn:

David Meiklejohn churns language like a quaker churns butter. PLOTS is a suite of poetic flash fictions and speculative story ideas that is made to be read and lingered over by future historians and linguists alike. Here is a fresh voice forging a territory of its own.

order PLOTS now from Effing Press and get a copy of effing magazine f-f-f-free.*

______________________________________________________________________________________

* (i know i know, you have to send a check or money order or cash, you have to deal with stationary and postage.  i know.  but soon, soon there will be a redesign at the effing site complete with paypal or some other method of e-commerce.  soon.)

snap line

for in a stiff breeze

        step tough

there is a prayer request

        for Dick Head

        be sure

from a mic to a speaker

a world away from five n dime

a model of education

         as it occurs

         as barcode

stripes stripes stripes

for the plankton of me

who's dropping  selfward

500 beers ago

who hassles the place kicker

        weekdays in the street

those swimming feet-heads

        by whom swim in robust

        pink suspension in the cold

                in the black

                in the warm

of course you can

        if you want

float with this

but you don't

and you can't

posing for philip trussell

SKANKY POSSUM READING SERIES AT 12TH STREET BOOKS

                                        

                                          presents

Cathy Wagner and Martin Corless Smith

Friday November 19 at 7 PM.

Wagner and Smith are here from Boise where they teach poetry at Boise State University. Cathy Wagner spent her early childhood in Asia and grew up in Baltimore. Her books include Miss America (2001) and Macular Hole (2004) both from Fence Books. Martin Corless Smith was born and raised in Worcestershire, England. His books include Of Piscator (Univ. of Georgia Press, 1997), Complete Travels (West House Books, Sheffield, England, 2000), and Nota (Fence Books, 2003). Swallows is forthcoming from Fence in 2006.

Beer, wine and snacks will be available. Donations are gratefully accepted.

12th Street Books, purveyors of used, rare and out of print books, is located at 827 West 12th Street, 2.5 blocks east of 12th & Lamar, between Shoal Creek and West.

This event is part of a monthly reading series co-sponsored by Skanky Possum and 12th Street Books.

Skank on!

town awash in red cape

            insert sound

i want my eyes back

what i can tell you

from the bus stop

won't

for when i get my

sisyphus in me

do i sleep

               or do i

muckrake in the heart

arching

back

             in a doorway

i pass along

the shark tooth

so absurd  they have to stop

look at it

                 inspect IT

                  

                        she said

getting mail was good then

      now ink hurts

send shoes

*   *   *   *

or him in Hoboken

diving in dunkin doughnut dump-

sters, send food

         

         but what sends well

i send him creamed corn

and cigarettes smoke these

          

                i hear little chimes

and wonder how you found me

post-work d!@# in hand

a phone call

               on my lips

while in the mind

a family of thousands

negotiates el bano

fatigue

everything went very

smooth at the Stitch

show. somewhere

just south of one

thousand people

in attendence. 

people made

money, the mu-

sic was good. 

pictures will

surface soon

and I will point

you to them. 

thanks to my

floor crew for

all the help.  I

found plenty

of drink tickets

in my pocket

the next day. 

sorry I heldout

on you bastards.

so much indy / diy shit going down this weekend it will blow your little mind

okay,

so here are a few things to do this weekend in Austin if you aren't into digging into a book out of site from the world. 

Tonight: RJ Ohler's paintings and yarn paintings are up at Jean Moulin Gallery, show starts at 8pm.

Saturday, at 8pm Monkey Wrench Books is having a Zine Night :

Also Saturday, Campfig is hosting a new opening of bizarro art.

Sunday afternoon texas biennial is doing a fundraiser at terrible one :

sayeth Enoch Rios: "Music booze bands and probably some flies and mosquitos. Come hang out and we can look at shiny things together. Last time there were people making out in public and somebody peed on the sidewalk. I hope that doesn't happen again."

And Sunday night, the mother lode of diy craftiness, Stitch Fashion Show & Craft Bizarre is going down at Emo's.  craft, art, fashion, designers, models, dj's, music, bouncers, bartenders, beer, and will it rain?  it does not matter.  all is covered by ceiling and canopy.  find me there won't you.

holy shit, and Pinback is playing at Emo's Saturday night.  Somebody scrape me off the ground please.

good thymes

hush little baby you don't have a mouth...

The news from 703 W 11th, Austex: Befriended by Sisyphus barley wine by night and casting off this week's crap with po and more po, it is Friday and the sirens of society do blaze past my office space this morning like any other. Marching ants do the NPR thing while coffee steam makes mushrooms on the windshields of luxury sedans and contractors' half-tons. Texas half asleep in its skin, we had the first frost of the new darker/richer/hotter winter. O honk your horns, we are crawling to work. Again!

Effing Press - my lil babe - turns one year old this month, la la la.  Just starting to walk in its little booties and diaper butt.  7 publications thus far produced, have mailed some 600+ copies to the homes and hands of lit lovers and have made new friends.  Editing proves fascinating and difficult and I learn and I grow an opinion, can you imagine, and am learning like my baby how to and how not to piss on a leg.  Not exactly inciting riots but the future looks half bright if you close one eye.  Effing Magazine #3 is being built by monkeys in tool belts as we speak, the foreman reports a good view has been achieved. Gee Dub says to the press(ed) corp that effing mag should earn some capital and then intend to spend! and and we do, Chuckles, we do. Poetry and vis art-stuffs from young and old, man and woman, intellectual and comedian, doomsdayer and hope pusher, and those in between and on the side... New effing chapbooks are also in the works.  Hoa Nguyen and Clayton Couch and William Hart and perhaps a collaborative photo/word collage thingy by myself and painter Philip Trussell. I have new fonts, new design ideas, a better eco-paper source, and stealthier boldness for my guerrilla printing scheme. I declare yes a fuck you to the local printing industry. We don't need you like you said, go gouge some other sucker!

Also around the corner locally is the Stitch fashion show and craft bizarre.  I act as vendor coordinator and am pleased to report 50+ vendors this year will be on hand hawking their fine fine handmade goods. If you are thinking x-mas shopping yet (fudge!) then come to this.  Her Space Holiday will jam, dj's will spin, models will strut, and the local craft movement will blind you with choices and style.

In other bursts of pride, the New England Revolution soccer team, for whom my brother Rusty plays, play DC United this weekend in the Eastern Conference Finals.  Watch it and cheer for them, watch a Pierce kick some butt, he's a defender, and he does and with fervor.  Dig the beautiful game.

Let the sub-Canadian blood pool drain away, we have work to do.  Let's make us some poems, let's strap them on like bomb belts and run headlong into the uncertain future as wild windmilling dancers of earthly heat.  There is pulse, allegedly!

 

Zealots and war-mongers

What is the matter with you people