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Skuz was the worst pimp in town. He couldn't put a stable of whores together if it meant his balls. He spent endless nights at the bus terminal on Forty-Second and Eighth Avenue checking out the lost girls who'd come to the 'Big City', but he rarely scored. All his opening lines stunk. "Hey baby, need a lift?" Or: "A place to stay?" Or: "Some bread?" Or: "Ooh-baby you so fine, I'd like to make a sandwich out of your panties."
Julia and Cake went down the small hall and could hear the slaps coming from the second room. With her shoulder, Julia pushed the door open. She saw Bongo on the floor, her nose bleeding. Julia lunged at the Merchant Marine and put her arm around his neck. With her other hand she reached around and put a vise-like grip on his pants in the manhood area, if you know what I mean.
During all of this, Cake pulled out from God-knows-where her vial of acid. She uncorked it and said, "Mister, back off or your face will look like a truck went over it!" The Merchant Marine went slack. Julia lifted him up and threw him against the wall. Like a sack of woe there he stayed. Cake helped Bongo up, quickly dressed her and then said, "Time to go honey." The three ladies just walked...
When the lives of three working girls on the streets of New York City, their protector and diner owner Lou, and three big boys working in the meatpacking district meet, the stage is set for the inevitable yet unexpected. Three is the Charm is a powerful and brutal account of the dark sides of street life in NYC anno 1956, packed with graphic sexual and violent scenes. Yet in the end love conquers all. Or does it? - Reader, beware!.
Ian Finkel Three Is The Charm
Ian Finkel
Three Is The Charm | webshop
"Every page breathes a horrifying and enticing blend of camaraderie, violence, semen and ground meat. I ate it all up!"
— h. newland — -
Harvey and Janie are the perfect couple. They have been married for years in sweet simplicity, raised a family and now its retirement. Suddenly Janie begins writing stories of the foulest nature, spinning Harvey's life into an ugly vortex. He finds it impossible to believe that stories of such horror and degradation could come from someone as sweet and loving as his Janie.
He does his research and discovers the nightmare of possesion. We see Harvey put through a hell that no good man deserves to experience. Though Harvey is a retired postman he always wanted to be a comic. His comedy may be his best weapon to fight the dauntingest duel a husband could face...
Red snapper Kafue pike fangtooth humums's slipmouth, salmon cutlassfish; swallower European perch mola mola sunfish, threadfin bream. Billfish hog sucker trout-perch lenok orbicular velvetfish. Delta smelt striped bass, medusafish dragon goby starry flounder cuchia round whitefish northern anchovy spadefish merluccid hake cat shark Black pickerel. Pacific cod.
Harvey and Janie are the perfect couple. They have been married for years in sweet simplicity, raised a family and now its retirement. Suddenly Janie begins writing stories of the foulest nature, spinning Harvey's life into an ugly vortex. He finds it impossible to believe that stories of such horror and degradation could come from someone as sweet and loving as his Janie. He does his research and discovers the nightmare of possesion. We see Harvey put through a hell that no good man deserves to experience. Though Harvey is a retired postman he always wanted to be a comic. His comedy may be his best weapon to fight the dauntingest duel a husband could face...
Ian Finkel Sex Stories My Wife Told Me
Ian Finkel
Sex Stories My Wife Told Me | webshop
"How Finkel comes up with this bizarre stuff and still maintain a compelling narrative is proof not only of a deliciously insane mind, but also of an experienced storyteller at work.."
— j.j. birchwood — -
It was July fourth and as usual I was in a state of dark depression. Everything used to be so easy. Then. Now… it's hard. I tried to lift my spirits in the various ways I had developed. None of them worked. I broke my diet and ate an everything bagel with melted Manchego cheese covered in horseradish. –Fail.
I watched two Laurel and Hardy movies. In fact, the second film was Sons of the Desert, which is one of the greatest comedies of all time. –Fail. I became desperate and thought of reaching into my faux-suicide routine, which has been compared to a Times Square New Year's Eve Party on speed. There was only one person that I knew who had the tools to save me: my dear old pal F.S. Lif.
So I called him up, told him of my funk and he came right over. As he walked through the door to my apartment he uttered those sage words I'll never forget: "Let's watch the fireworks on TV." He sat down in the living room and I turned on the set. Then I got a half dozen seven-inch-sixty-ring-gauge Maduros out of one of my five humidors. I laid them out on the coffee table with a double ashtray made of pink mock jade.
It was July fourth and as usual I was in a state of dark depression. Everything used to be so easy. Then. Now… it's hard. I tried to lift my spirits in the various ways I had developed. None of them worked. I broke my diet and ate an everything bagel with melted Manchego cheese covered in horseradish. –Fail. I watched two Laurel and Hardy movies. In fact, the second film was Sons of the Desert, which is one of the greatest comedies of all time. –Fail. I became desperate and thought of reaching into my faux-suicide routine, which has been compared to a Times Square New Year's Eve Party on speed.
Ian Finkel Transmutation Blues
Ian Finkel
Transmutation Blues | webshop
"Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in."
— mark twain, a biography —
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All show business stars knew that at each performance you had to reach out and grasp it so that you could pull it into the empty cavity of your soul. For some, the harder they clawed the further away it seemed to be. Many performers who had experienced the sound, whether they were on top or a has-been, felt it would be worth the effort to double-cross their own mother just to hear it one last time.
1922, the Bedford Theater in Brooklyn, New York, was a toilet. The smell of garlic and oil sandwiches mixed with cheap cigar smoke hung in the stale air, which formed a bluish grey cloud above the entire inside of the theater. The Bedford was known for its bad lighting, mediocre band, dust everywhere, and possessed an audience that had heard it all and seen it all.
On stage, Jack Bailey, comic, was drenched in flop sweat. In show business terms, he was laying an egg… bombing. Jack's thirty-two years of experience and the tradition of being a trooper, were the only elements that pulled him through. His suit hung poorly and his shirt collar was a bit frayed.
This hardly was 'stage presence'. The cigar he clenched in his left hand was a cheap one and he knew he looked at least sixty though he was only forty-nine. The sparse audience wanted to like him, he was still a handsome blue-eyed, reddish-haired — though a bit dyed — Irishman, but found the task too difficult due to the fact that the man's material stunk and he no longer possessed an ounce of charm.
Ian Finkel Vaudeville 1922
Ian Finkel
Vaudeville 1922 | webshop
"Jack Bailey is Finkel's most complex and convincing literary character to date. You gotta love to hate him, Jack Bailey that is."
— d. maneston —