This blog contains Adult content, profanity, and is considered sleazy. Viewers beware.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Ice Cream Man free on Amazon, June 15-16

Get Ice Cream Man for free!

Dear Partnas in Crime,

This literary masterpiece or horrible book, depending on your tastes, will be free today and tomorrow on Amazon.com. So download this shit before it melts!


In 1984 three boys shot and killed an ice cream man in an attempted robbery. But instead of being charged with murder, the boys were made heroes for stopping the Pussy Willow Maniac.

They thought it was over, that they were safe. The Pussy Willow Maniac was dead and buried.But now the Ice Cream Man has returned from Hell to serve the boys their just desserts.

Rave Reviewz for Ice Cream Man

"Damn, Jimmy, this manuscript smells like you had it hid up your asshole."
--Offica Allen, Jimmy's porbation officer

"Get the fuck out my face, motherfucker."
--Little Hammer Time

"I'll have to read that book one day, Jimmy."
--Jimmy's new girlfriend he picked up at the Chevron Station and took to eat at the Cracker Barrel the other night.

"It's clear from this garbage you have sociopathic tendencies
--Jimmy's psychologist, Dr. Fred.

"Which one is Ice Cream Man?"
--Willie B., Jimmy's illustrator.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Giving that blogging shit a try

Dear Partnas in Crime,

Jimmy going to try and do some blogging. I ain't never done no blogging before, so it feels really fucking weird, like the first time you try smoking a cigarette or having sex with a stranger. I'm a keep this post short, cause this is only an experiment.

I'd like to update you on my new work, "50 Shades of Greasy." The first draft has been returned by my editor, and so far everything looks very promising. I should have this book out by the beginning of next month if not sooner.

Here's is an excerpt. Hope you enjoy!

50 Shades of Greasy
“I need you to spank me,” she said, lifting her booty up off the bed.
I slapped her on the butt with my hand.
I slapped her again, with more force. With more passion.
She moaned. “I need it even harder,” she said.
I started pounding at that ass like a punching bag, and she buried her face in her pillow, moans of pleasure escaping.
I could feel myself getting winded. It was getting hard to breath and sweat was rolling down my forehead, stinging my eyeballs. I quit punching and leaned over the bed, panting.
“I need you to keep going,” she said, lifting her head up out the pillow.
“Jesus,” I said. “You for real?”
“You hit like a pussy,” she growled.
I stood up, walked to the corner of the room and got my wooden Louisville Slugger.
“You sure you want this shit?” I asked.
“Give it to me, pussy,” she grunted.
I got in my stance, pulled back and whipped that bat right onto that ass. There was a loud smack, and the bat cracked.
Quitta looked back at me, her face flushed, strands of blond hair falling over her huge ass forehead. “Now it’s my turn, motherfucker,” she said.