Tabloid Terrors – I Was A Sasquatch Sex Slave
S.D. Hintz, Jerrod Balzer and (Mark Mclaughlin)
Trade Paperback, 69 pgs, 2007, $12.95
Reviewed by Steve Vernon
Okay, so do you remember that morning when you woke up in bed next to a full grown Canadian Moose, with your skivvies dangling provocatively from the beast’s left antler and a wisp of pubic curls clinging suspiciously to the behemoth’s hind hoof?
Then you’re absolutely ready for this next review.
I should start on a note of sorrow. By the time this review sees print, true literary fans of the primal schlock culture will have undoubtedly read of the impending death knell of the educational enlightening textbook of excretory splendour – the Weekly World News. Oh sure, you will still be able to find your fix of the fascinating, freaky and truly fucked-up, but it just isn’t the same without the tattletale stain of newsprint on your fingers.
There hasn’t been such a hue and cry in the literary community since that Meerschaum sucking, fiddle-picking, opium addicted gumshoe took a tumble off of the Reichenbach Falls. Where will we go to find out about the exploits of Bat Boy, or the world’s fattest baby, or those countless anal fetish aliens, and of course the shaggiest of shaggy dog stories – Sasquatch “Big Daddy” Bigfoot hisself. Fortunately the good folks at Skullvines Press have seen fit to step in and cram that cultural gap with their questionable fleshiness.
I Was A Sasquatch Sex Slave is a collection of tales centered around the heretofor undocumented exploits of the Wild Man of the Woods – Bigfoot hisself. Who could have ever dreamed that the great northern land-ape could have possessed such a mountainous earth-shaking libido?
Learned English and Journalism graduate and Bram Stoker award finalist, Michael McCarty gives us an astoundingly thorough run down on the habits and lifestyle of the great Canadian Sasquatch and Canadians in general. The co-contributors/conspirators Jerrod Balzer and S.D. Hintz lay out the rye bread and swiss cheese in a six story blanket of yummy unwholesome goodness parenthetically encircling the pastrami and sauerkraut splendor of learned Sasquatch slave and idiot savant (Mark Mclaughlin), who refuses to step out of the brackets of shame for fear of leaving tattletale footprints.
This isn’t a book you want to take home to your granny. You don’t even want to leave it in your granny’s outhouse. Bad taste runs rampant as we are force-fed a smorgasbord rump roast of anal sex, oral obsessions, fetishistic indulgence and wanted and unasked for extra curricular adult activities. In short, smut. This book is a guilty pleasure, much like that moose you woke up next to. You will be amazed to discover just how many ways an eight foot tall hirsute humanoid can make the beast with two backs bend over backwards.
If you’re a fan of cheese and sleaze, do pick this collection up.
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