The depth of pain that humanity can sink into, curled up into a ball like a mewling kitten that has been impaled on a shish kabob skewer…
What is this, you ask? What with the stories you publish, many of them featuring characters and acts that would make the Marquis de Sade defile his pantaloons and run screaming like a terrified Daffy Duck—what could possibly make Big Daddy Thug gnash his teeth and pray for a quick death?
Kidney stones, my brothers and sisters.
So, extra thanks go out to Lady Detroit for her editing acumen and taking the reins at the end from my trembling mitts and riding this bitch of a magazine through the finish line, all the while restraining herself from smothering my groans of pain with a pillow over the face.
She’s a hell of a lady.
And at almost the ten-year mark, Thuglit has never, EVER missed a deadline…although we sure as fuck came close here. I just kept repeating our deadline motto:
Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor rocks coming out of our pee-pees will stay these editors from the swift completion of their beloved THUGLIT.
Hope you dig the ish for it’s on-timedness as much as for the content within. Maybe more, this time out.
Meanwhile, I’ll just be over here on the floor in a fetal position while Lady Detroit eyeballs those pillows…
IN THIS ISSUE OF THUGLIT:
Waylon, On Rerun by Michael Pool
Proof of Death by Mike Madden
Canary by Matthew J. Hockey
The Fair by Dan J. Fiore
The Kompanski Incident by Joseph Rubas
The Calumet by Amanda Marbais
X by Angel Luis Colón
Shadows of the Mouse by Garnett Elliott