From Everybody and their mom is moving to Portland, Issue 5:



Places like Portland, Seattle, Olympia and Eugene are terrific places to visit, they have interesting art and music scenes, cooler climates, and more things to do. It makes me wonder sometimes, why don’t we all move to these places? Here’s a good reason: Phoenix rules.

This beautiful city we live in reminds me of the newly born land of Narnia described in The Magician’s Nephew: "It was a valley of mere earth, rock and water; there was not a tree, not a bush, not a blade of grass to be seen. The earth was of many colors; they were fresh, hot and vivid. They made you feel excited."

From Take The Skinheads Bowling, Issue 5:

The movement had been started by an escaped asylum inmate named Arturo Toscanini Jones, an urban guerilla and straight-edger with a penchant for bowling. He preached the importance of integrating revolutionary activity with everyday sports. To illustrate this, they showed me their custom painted bowling balls, which, in their airbrushed splendor, depicted the heads of both politicians and captains of industry.

Favouring the Christown Lanes for its address (1919, a key year for Mr. Trotsky), they told me that they enjoyed the activity both from a physical and politico-spiritual point-of-view - “It keeps us fighting fit, and it feels fucking great to see Bush’s head hurtling towards a pile of wood”.

From Pancake Bunnies, Issue 5:


What did it mean? I had, and still have, no idea. That’s what confounds me so.

“What is that and where did it come from?”, I whispered to Betty.

She whispered back, “I don’t know what it is, but I know where it came from. Someone beamed it to me via Bluetooth, that’s why I didn’t recognize the number.”

I continued to whisper questions to her. What is a pancake bunny? Who invented the pancake bunny? Why was the pancake bunny invented? Can the bunny balance other things on its head?

From Urban Hiking Trails - Dyke Hike, Issue 4:

I tramped on towards 7th St. and was hit - wham! - by the sign appearing through a cloud of SUV dust: The King of Oysters.

Several of his vessels lay overturned outside, landlocked and marooned.

This could have been Homeric - but the King was otherwise engaged that day, no doubt rallying his fleet with speeches of derring-do and the adventures of great Phoenix seamen of yore as he set them in search of new and exotic bivalve mollusks.

From From the Journal of John Apelbaum (deceased), Issue 4:



October 13 : Been trapped two days now. Zombies are everywhere, they’ve overrun the whole town. They were doing something in the bushes the last two mornings. This morning some were on the roof banging. Need water soon, but got lots of food still...

October 16 : Had to try to get water today. Waited till [sic] no zombies in sight and got to car. Streets were empty, so I drove to gas station. Couple in the store behind the counter, couple sitting outside in the shade. Guess it’s good for me they’re damn lazy bastards. Got enough water for a week or more...

From Thanks for the Memories , Issue 4:

That didn’t keep Linda away. She knew that Central Avenue was it. And she knew who made their way from Hollywood to Phoenix. Because of his duties at the hotels, Raul had formed relationships with many of these high rollers, including Bob Hope. Mr. Hope frequently came to Phoenix for golfi ng around town, staying at The Townhouse. Bob often needed late night food well beyond the restaurant’s closing time to ease the discomfort of his ulcer and Raul kept him satiated.

Moments later and with golf bag in hand, Mr. Hope stepped off the elevator, took one glance at her and waddled immediately to where she was standing.

“Hello, dahling!”

And, as Raul said, from there to eternity.

From Simmed City , Issue 3:



"I was driving through Chandler the other day and couldn't remember for five or six blocks if I was in the West Valley or East," Hopney says, somewhat awestruck. "I think it's a testament to the power of the Master Block design – no matterwhere I am, I feel like I know where I am. It's a very comforting feeling."

A Machine to End War , Issue 3:



"It will be possible to destroy anything approaching within 200 miles. My invention will provide a wall of power."

Nikola Tesla

From XXXbertos , Issue 2:



Eriberto's
7th Ave & Osborn


Eriberto’s was even better. I ordered the No. 8 combination (two beef carne asada tacos with rice & beans), a side of jalapeños (carrots) and—yes—this time I ordered a Cinnamon Rice Horchata. The food was incredibly good and the portions left me feeling filled for some time afterwards. The Horchata is the perfect beverage to wash down your meal with. The first time you have one, it may taste a bit bland, but it definitely grows on you.

The carrots were much better too because, to me, they didn’t seem quite as hot as Rolberto’s (but still had a nice kick!). As far as the ambiance, there is no comparison. Rolberto’s had outside seating only and appeared to occupy what used to be a Rally’s location. Eriberto’s, on the other hand, was a full-fledged restaurant which offered an area for indoor dining as well as a drive-thru. They score additional points with me for having arcade games to play while you wait for your food which included “The Simpson’s” and “Tekken 3”—two of my favorites.

I do have one minor bone to pick with this establishment, however: they have this gumball machine which, in order to get the gumball, you first have to play some sort of soccer game with it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if I give you a quarter, just give me my damn gumball!

Party Bus , Issue 2:



</story>
A group of frat brothers decided to rent a bus to take them out for a night of partying at Phoenix’s dive bars. When they stopped at Bikini Lounge, the bus driver waited for them in the parking lot of The Trunk Space. A small group of Trunk Space patrons noticed the bus and soon began dancing and “partying” around it, yelling “party bus!” and other such light-hearted quips.

Soon, the annoyed driver, obviously missing the point of the fun-spirited gyrations, moved the bus to another nearby location to wait for the frat brothers. The newly-formed Trunk Space partiers soon found this new location and proceeded to continue the dancing and screaming in front and around the bus. This caused the bus driver to continue to move the bus until finally, after having enough of the sober Trunk Space party crew, he got out, headed towards the group, took out a small knife, and yelled, “Stop partying near my party bus!!”
</end story>

Pecker , Issue 1:



I sat at a Tempe cafe with a friend—both of us silent with our thoughts. I watched the sparrows jockeying for position, waiting for me to drop a piece of my muffin.

One bird was near my feet pecking at the ground. I didn't see anything to peck at and I pointed out to my friend that this bird was pecking at the ground though there was nothing there. He said, "That bird must be very precise to peck at nothing."

From The Shitlist , Issue 1:



This story didn't actually get bad until much later on when a friend of mine went out to DC to visit some of his friends. Their roommate was the roadie for the Cold Cold Hearts and asked "Hey, you're from Arizona? Ever heard of Stinkweeds?" My friend Bob, always the suspicious one, said, "Uh... yeah, sure I've heard of it." "Wow man, I stole some great records from that place! It was awesome... I hid them in the bathroom and then loaded them into my bag... they never figured it out, dude." Bob just slowly smiled and said, "Really." The guy persisted, "Yeah man it was great!" Bob just nodded and changed the subject. The next morning, after this guy had gone to work, Bob snuck into his room and neatly and carefully stacked all of his record crates, which were packed I might add, as close to the blazing wall heater as he could get them.