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The Big Stupid Review

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09-01-2008
Routine by Felipe de Oliveira
Automatic Transmission by Warren Buckles
08-01-2008
The Axiom of Choice by Jim Chaffee
07-01-2008
A Pleasure Jaunt with One of the Sex Workers Who Don’t Exist in the People’s Republic of China by Tom Bradley
Making the Switch by George Sparling
06-01-2008
The War Prayer by Mark Twain
05-01-2008
About the Dog by Robert Aqunio Dollesin
04-01-2008
The Coup by Peter Schoenau
03-01-2008
Art School by Zach Plague
Consitutional Puppies by JR
02-01-2008
Selection from The Vicious Circulation of Dr. Catastrope by Kane X. Faucher
Party Pooper from Make Me by Eli Richardson
Una Noche Perfecta para Sanguijuelas por Jim Chaffee (tr. Sonia Ramos Rossi)
01-01-2008
A Night in Cameroon by Kelly Jameson
Missile by Jason Jordan
12-01-2007
Nothing by J.R.
Sacrament by Sonia Ramos Rossi
11-01-2007
Green Mountain Incumbent by D E Fredd
When Pacino's Hot, I'm Hot by Robert Levin
10-01-2007
The Book of Ancient Wisdom by Hugh Fox
09-01-2007
Dog Days by Robert Levin
Junk-Pure by Forrest Armstrong
08-01-2007
Beefsteak Mistake, Jake by Kelly Jameson
Sand by Jim Chaffee
07-01-2007
How to Make a Baby by Robert Levin
A Rude Little Monkey by Kelly Jameson
06-01-2007
Revolver by Sandra Ramos Rossi
Brian and Mona by Jim Chaffee
05-01-2007
El Castrator by Thomas Head
04-01-2007
Alone, As Always by Jennifer Gardner
03-01-2007
Polar Regions by Gayla Chaney
02-01-2007
Two Stories of Sex Beyond Erotica: Editor's Introduction by Jim Chaffee
Photo Finish by Anya Wassenberg
Mephisto and Me by Lily Edwards
01-01-2007
Management Case Study 17: Down East Chicken by D. E. Fredd
MoM by David Quinn
Full TEX Archive
Side Photo for The Big Stupid Review
Routine
By Felipe de Oliveira
One more day begins. Night badly slept and without dreams. Got up three times to piss. Pissing like an old man these last two weeks. Two or three, not certain. Wake up with face bloated and enormous shadows around the eyes. If I were whiter and shaggier, I'd look like a panda. more...
Automatic Transmission
By Warren Buckles
Junk has been my downfall. Greasy junk, rusty car parts, bolts, screws, shafts, bearings, manifolds, curved sheet metal bearded with curling paint, gauges with needles pointing to hot or cold, empty or full, zero or thirty, charge or discharge. I was a scholar of junk, a perennial student of the unmade, the abandoned and the obsolete. more...
Axiom of Choice
By Jim Chaffee
When the Lord called me I wasn’t ready. I protested. I resisted. I went on a long vacation. No, I said. Why me?
Jehovah is tough to convince. When something fixes there it stays there.
I remembered my predecessor, Eli James. He'd had nothing but trouble with Jehovah. He’d been an investment banker, been in politics. I’d seen the old photos: buttoned down and pinstriped, lace-up wingtips. The real thing. more...
A Pleasure Jaunt with One of the Sex Workers Who Don’t Exist in the People’s Republic of China
By Tom Bradley
Sam Edwine and his presumably contagion free rent-a-date were being Red Flag Limousined through the very mountain forests where, in times gone by, Coxinga the Pirate once paused to hold a funeral for his baby, knowing he’d be overtaken and wiped out.
It was impossible to tell whether the chauffeur was smiling unkindly through the rearview mirror at Sam’s cramped knees and low pigmentation. Despite the sweat guzzling heat and humidity, the guy had covered the lower half of his face with one of those white surgical masks affected by Asians with colds or halitosis, real or imagined.
How could this operator of heavy machinery have known in advance that the whore was bringing her little greasy balls of poppy tar? And, if he had known, why hadn’t he felt compelled, in his capacity as the joy-ride’s on-board representative of the provincial government, to blow the whistle on the tart, instead of merely taking passive measures to protect his own mouth and nose from the seductive fumes? And why hadn’t he brought a mask for Sam? more...
Making the Switch
By George Sparling I'd read, "tear the mask from error is to establish truth," something a minor Enlightenment philosopher named Maurice Falconet pronounced, quoted in Peter Gay's The Rise of Modern Paganism. Not a required book, but I was a procrastinator. I'd read a solid overview of the Enlightment, the era named by Kant. I relished stray pieces of information, unable to link them except when drunk or on a caffeine high. No amount of Red Bull would push me through college. more...