Wrong Number Zine #5 (comes with 60 minutes mixtape)

This is a 8.5 by 11 inches full color 8 pages zine

After reading this I truly believe that Ms Belka Belochka is a fan of recycling. Theres some found pictures, found notes, some street stickers, thrift store book reviews, zine reviews, a poem, a tale of cassette love \ dubbing. I like the nice, kinda naïve but sincere, deeply honest writing style. After reading this I felt like going to the Salvation Army or any thrift store to scope up stuff. The mixtape is a collection of her favorite songs culled from various thrift stores cassettes. Upon reading this I couldn`t help myself. I though oh no not a collection of crappy one hit wonders \ bad pop songs. Boy was I wrong this tape is like an international world music extravaganza. Let`s see. There`s Japanese pop (Chiemi Hori, Seiko Matsuda, Akina Nakamori and Iyo Matsumoto), traditional Greek music (M.Hadjidakis), disco from the Philippines (Boyfriends), fiddle music (Hawks And Eagles), a funny and moronic cartoon song (Ren & Stimpy), experimental music from Ukraine (PlasticFantastic And Electric Psychedelic Pussycat), Hawaiian ukulele (Ohta-San), Hawaiian music (Makaha Sons Of Ni`Hau, Ledward Kaapana), an old school English punk band (X-Ray Spex), and some German zither music (Joseph `Sepp` Diepolder). I can`t wait to read more issues of this amazing zine and I hope she does another amazing mixtape. Write her godammit!

Ms. Belka Belochka

1021 Lowella Ave

Pearl City, 
Hi

96782, 
USA

email: bisforbelka@etsy.com

The sinking process

Dealing with shit. Life is full of ups and downs. We have good moments and shitty moments. It's all about the attitude. I wrote this beautifully dark and haunting poem a long time ago (more than ten years in fact). It seemed relevant during those dark days. Unfortunately the darkness has come back to haunt me again. I use poetry, writings, drawings, music, noise has a catharsis to open that internal sickness of the heart and soul and to break the pattern. Enjoy the poem. I think this is the best thing I wrote so far. Almost everyone had to deal and survive various bad moments.   

The sinking process

It`s snowing outside

The cold wind sets in

The snow keeps falling and falling

Dancing an invisible ballet

Drifting away

Drifting apart slowly

Slowly and silently

The wind becomes louder

It`s almost screaming now

Pushing me

Pulling me

For I feel like a piece of paper

In it`s hands

An instrument

An object

I am a strong man

And I feel powerless in this situation

A mere thorn

On the side of nature

The snow`s falling faster now

I see these big snowflakes

Dropping in front of me

Thick white bullets

An encompassing blanket of whiteness

A blinding whiteness

Blinding everything

Everyone in it`s path

WHITE SHADOWS FOR DARK DAYS

There`s also that damned humidity

The kind that makes me feel naked

It passes through my clothes

As if I`m wearing nothing

Nothing at all

It makes my body shiver

My bones are cold, they feel frozen

It gives you a kind of

Feeling of emptiness, loneliness

A loneliness in front of the void

In front of a bottomless pit

Ready to jump

Too scared to actually do it

It`s too dark down there

Anyways

Why jump

When you could slowly sink into oblivion

The sinking

Is a slow daily process

Painful

A place where events,

Memories are buried deep within

Where they lay there

Forgotten

Trying hard to forget them

Forgetting the past

The present

Where was yesterday ?

Are we today ?

When was tomorrow ?

Feeling empty

Left in nothingness

Sinking even more into darkness

Blind

Blinded by darkness

Surrounded by darkness

Sensing it`s powers

Being submerged in it

Adoring it

Loving it

Getting hornier just thinking about it

Oh sweet oblivion

I love you so

You`re my mistress

My lover

But

You`re mostly my tool of amnesia

You help me forget

The bad moments in life

You help me forget the pain

The loneliness

And it`s snowing again

The snow covers everything

The cars

The streets

The buildings

Thick white sheets of nothingness

Emptiness

Emptiness of the heart

Emptiness of the soul

Desperation

Despair

The snow and the wind blend together

Everything looks grey
Urban decay

Mother nature`s got the blues

I know the feeling

When you`ve been hurt so much

That you don`t have any tears left

Nothing left to cry for

Nothing

Nothing except the pain

The pains of the heart

Sickness of the soul

Which is pretty hard

To explain in the first place

It`s like dying from the inside

The outside looks just fine

So people think you`re alright

Because you don`t look sick

And appearances are saved

But inside…

Inside it`s a turmoil

A never-ending struggle

The never-ending struggle

A fight between loathe

And self-destruction

Where happiness is rarely seen

Always drifting away

A big empty nothing

You`re insecure

Shy

Lacking in self-esteem

Always feeling left out

By others

By yourself

Always alone

The more you`re alone

The more you`re drifting

Can`t get laid

Can`t find a girlfriend

Nobody seems interested

Can`t help it

It`s a loop, a circle

A damn vicious circle

The sinking process

The sinking process

The sinking process

The sinking process

Sinking ?

Endlessly…

Tales from Tom the drunk hustler part 7

Da brawl

During those troubled times

Mid nineties I think

I`m not sure because I`m getting old

And my memory

My eyesight

My sex drive

My hair

They all seem to disappear slowly

Dying isn`t that bad, getting older

Now that`s something in itself

What were we discussing ?

At `Chez Margot`  we have some newcomers

Hot blooded latinos

A little loud maybe, but cool folks nonetheless

Most of them where really bad pool players 

Easy trimmings I say

More pitchers of beer for us three

I remember this guy

Small, chunky with short black hair

I think he was in his mid fifties or something

A Peruvian named Nunez

He was the worst player I met

Easy to beat when sober

It gets worst when he`s drunk

It`s not even like taking candy from a baby

More like taking money from a quadriplegic child

It`s bad and sad at the same time

Because he`s losing and the more it happens

He becomes aggressive like hell

A Peruvian Tasmanian devil if you will

I hate to win against folks like him

Believe you me

I`m a hustler with a conscience

Not

But I have a reputation which speaks for itself

And I like my reputation, dammit

It was one of those nights

I beat big Tony

One of the calmest persons

I`ve met

He speaks real s-l-o-w

D-a-m-n  I j-u-s-t  l-o-s-t  a-n-o-t-h-e-r   p-i-t-c-h-e-r

Thanks for the game big guy

I-t-`s  c-o-o-l

Hey Nunez you`re next my man

Not this loser again me think

Pplay you for a pitcher

Say what ?

Wanna pitcher

You want to pay me a pitcher

Nno play for a pitcher

He says

Or so it seems

You want to play for a pitcher

Is that it Nunez

Ffuck yeah

I don`t think it`s a good idea bro

I beat you when you`re sober

Now you`re drunk as a skunk

I mean

It`s not worth it

WADDYA MEAN IT`S NOT WORTH IT !

AM I NOT WORTHY ENOUGH FOR YOU ASSHOLE ?

I shouldn`t have said that I think

Now he`s pissed off

That`s not what I mean my friend

You sure you are able to play ?

Ffuck yeah

You sure ?

Look at you, you`re gone dude

I DON’T CARE ILL BEAT YER SORRY ASS

Then let`s go`

My break Nunez

If I could be totally honest

This will be the last time

After this game  

You will never

And I mean never

Want to play pool

With me again

Bang!!!

Three low balls on the break

The two cross side

Four top corner pocket

Six bottom right corner

Five top right corner

The eight ball`s left

It`s near the side pocket

The white ball is just in front

I bend down

Look Nunez straight in the eyes

Told you this was your last game

Eight side pocket

I sink the eight

Without looking at the white ball

MOTHERFUCKER!!!!

He breaks his stick on the pool table

Pierre arrives fast

Ready to throw him out

It`s alright Pierre

It was an  accident

It was ?

Wwaz an accident Nunez stutters

Okay then

Nunez Pitcher if you please

Thank you

Greg

Yo Greg you`re up

Bet a beer pitcher Tom ?

Sure thing

That`s what I came here for

I light up a smoke

Look around

Something`s happening

Near the jukebox

I see Gerry screaming

At one of the new guys

He`s  Mexican I think

I despise Gerry

He represents

Everything I hate about the

Whole goddam human race

He`s arrogant and ignorant

At the same time

Just like

Salt and pepper

Bread and butter

The perfect mix indeed

One of them loud mouth assholes

Which sounds something like this…

You know if I was GM

I would trade  

Ed Ronan, Lyle Odelein, Turner Stevenson

To the Pitsburg Penguins

In exchange we would get

Jaromir Jagr and maybe a second round draft pick

Yeah right

In your wet dreams dickhead

He knows everything

He has all the answers

And yet

Such a genuine Einstein

Who is so smart and intelligent

Is on fucking welfare

He talks the talk

But doesn`t

Walk the walk

I hate idiots like him

Unfortunately

The world is full of them

Just look around

They usually become in charge of something

And I`m thinking

Wouldn`t it be great

If somebody would kick his ass

If his mouth was full of stitches

He would finally shut the fuck up

Nobody would hear his constant nagging

Hey Tom stop daydreaming and play

Sorry Greg

I got distracted

You`re hearing Gerry`s loud mouth again

Tell me something I don`t know

You think they`re gonna fight

Naw Gerry`s a wuss

All talk and no action

Anyways

Gotta go take a leak

I`m near the washroom

What the hell is this ?

They`re blocking the entrance

Still screaming at each other

I go near them

Sorry guys I gotta piss

It`s an emergency

I push them lightly

I`m almost inside

Next thing I know

Something or someone

Hits me on the back of me head

I fall on my knees

Then

Beer is poured on me

I lose my glasses

I`m blind as a bat

I get up

Still confused

It`s all a blur

There`s some sorth of commotion happening

I still have to piss goddammit!

I enter the washroom

Empty my bladder, wash my hands

Grab the handle and open the door

Damn my glasses are under the pool table

Got to get them

I pick them up and put them on

What the fuck is this ?

Everybody`s fighting

Whites, blacks, latinos, everyone

Pierre`s kicking this small guy

He looks at me and screams

Tom Julian needs help

I look around

I can`t see her

I see this huge latino guy near the bar

He`s holding Julian and feeling her nipples

Motherfucker I`m thinking

Good for me I like them big

Lotsa room to hit them

As long as they don`t connect first

You`re okay

I go behind him

`mamma ma la verga cabrone`

Huhh,

I punch him in the face

He laughs and throws Julian on the floor

He turns around

I give him a left hook

He starts to laugh

Is that your best shot cabrone he asks

No this is

I kick him in the balls

It never fails

He lands on a table

They both fall loudly on the floor

I kick his head a couple of time

Just to make sure

He`ll stay down

King Kong`s dead I`m thinking

Then

A fist hits me on my right shoulder

Wrong side bitch

I`m left handed

I grab an unidentified bottle

Bash it on the head of my unknown aggressor

I hit him twice for good measure

Feels good

Amidst all this violence and chaos

I do feel alive for once

Must be the adrenaline rush

Or something

I hear sirens in the distance

Closing in fast

Come on guys we have to get out

The cops are coming

I can`t afford to get arrested

We use the back door to exit

Best idea I`ve ever had

We arrive at the corner of Jean-Talon street

There`s about ten police cars

Parking in front of our favorite dive

We split up

Going separate ways

What a night

Free pitchers of  beers and a bar room brawl

To end it

Too bad I didn`t get laid

There will be another night

With girls, hustling and beers

In no particular order

That was the last time

I went at `Chez Margot`

After Nunez`s antics and the brawl

It just didn`t feel right

Going back there

Time to move on to new territory

Next stop `Pizza Plaza`

End of part one.

art is everywhere part 5....

Here's a brand new flyer i.e. 'artistic' ephemera. The following piece is an actual flyer that I received by old school mail, courtesy of Thompson himself. 

Psionic Plastic Joy # 17 (fall 2012) (zine)

Here`s another fine issue of Jason Rodgers amazing counterculture , anti technology \ internet zine. There`s 32 pages  of  half-size, cut and paste, black and white material. PPJ is one of my favorite zines, along with the R.I.P. old Nightwaves (New Brunswick`s own publication covering electronic music). There`s a good mix of weird ass articles along various collages and artworks. My favorite articles where: `introduction – further notes on technology`( I understand Jaoson`s point of view but I feel that the internet, if used properly is just another  tool for free publicity), and `covert black-ops mission against Reality Impaired Recordings fails – bring the noise` (conspiracy theory anyone ?) and `Neo-Neoist Tenets`( this brought back a lot of old memories from the defunct and Montréal`s own Total Zero recordings, rmemeber Phycys? Vermiform Front? Trondant?). I like his choice of artists \ collagists. Let`s see, there is Malok (a standout piece of abstract psychedelism), Haddock, Lena Samo , Yves Albrechts (from Belgium), Reed Altemus, Thompson, François Marceau (yes that`s me, hey, I`m everywhere) and Stuart Stratu (from Australia). 

And how much does this cost ? It`s simple, 2.00 $ USA or 3.00 $ worldwide. Forget about digital era, let`s get physical:

Jason Rodgers

PO Box 63, 

Lawrence, 

Ma,

01842, 

USA

Tales from Tom the drunk hustler part 6

A shitty affair

Went to Harvey`s for supper

Had two hot dogs, some fries

And a big ass root beer

I`m full

Feeling good

That`s what I call

Raw preproduction drinking

You make sure

Your stomach is full

Before engaging

In gambling and drinking activities

The food

Gets  slowly digested

And

You won`t get drunk right away

Nice and slow that`s the way to do it

Nice and slow baby

You will eventually

Get drunk

But nothing like drunken craziness

More like a run of the mill

Drunken stupor

The next day

You`ll wake up

With maybe a small headache

That`s all

You`ll be functional

Almost normal

Dare I say decent

If there`s such a word

But anyways

It`s Friday night

I enter `Chez Margot`

Around 7.00 PM

The place is empty

There`s a new waitress

And Pierre`s sitting near the jukebox

Pierre is our bouncer

He doesn`t look

Like your typical  bouncer

He`a a skinny, 5 foot 9 guy

With long curly brown hair

He looks like a cool hippy

He`s a cool guy

Rarely gets mad

The last thing

You wanna do

Is fuck with him though

He has a black belt in karate

Now you`re thinking

Roadhouse

You`re totally wrong here

Though I`ve seen Pierre

Brawl with the best of them

His reputation precedes him

There`s rarely a fight here

There was a full bar room brawl once

I will talk about it later

Anyways

Back to our story

I say hi to Pierre

Wanna shoot some pool Tom ?

Sure thing

Play for a pitcher ?

I don`t like pitchers

Play for a small beer ?

Ok let`s go

Your break Pierre

Bang !!!

Three low ones on the break

Five top corner

Shit I missed

My turn

Fifteen left corner

Nine side pocket

Ten cross side

Eleven right corner

Fourteen right cross corner

Twelve combo side pocket

Thirteen left corner

Eight cross side

You fucker you cleaned the table

I know (with a grin on my face)

Sorry about your damn luck

A Budweiser will be fine

Revenge match Pierre ?

Sure thing let`s go

We play some more

I beat Pierre some more

Pierre`s my best victim  

He`s trying to beat my ass

While emptying ashtrays

Cleaning the tables

Checking out the place

For troublemakers and whatnot

He can`t concentrate much

So I often win

He never gets mad at me though

That`s why I like him

Around 8.00 PM

My buddies are here

Pat and Chris in the house

Tom what the fuck is this ?

Three empty small buds ?

Where`s the pitchers ?

The place is empty

Aside from Pierre

There`s Paul here

Gerry`s  at the bar

And Tina`s in the washroom

There`s nobody to hustle

You know what that means ?

We have to pay for beer

Downer dudes

Next Friday

We`re going to Pizza Plaza across the street

Pat says

Good idea

Yeah nobody knows Tom there

Sure thing

We spend the evening drinking some

Smoking some

And drinking some more

We only stop for a piss break

Except me

You see

I`m a dromedary

I keep lots of liquids inside

I rarely take a leak

But when I do

It`s because I`m full

I don`t have a choice

I urinate about two or three times

In the evening

I takes me approximately

a minute and a half to piss

it`s that time again

I light up a smoke

Get up

And enter the washroom

As soon as I enter

Something doesn`t feel right

Something`s wrong here

What the fuck is this ?

Paul`s sitting on the washbasin

With his pants and boxers pulled down

The fuck are you doing Paul I ask

What does it looks like I`m doing

I`m taking a shit

What`s wrong with you ?

There`s an empty washroom just here I point

I know

Then why are you taking a dump

On the washbasin ?

Pierre bangs Julian

Every night

I hate the fucker

He thinks he`s so cool

`cause he has a black belt

`cause he`s got long curly hair

`cause he`s fucking Julian

Well I got something for him

Something big

Something ugly

And something really stinky

Wait until he comes in here

To clean the washroom

He`s gonna have a heart attack

Paul that`s  not cool man

I don`t care

I can`t wait to see the expression on his face

Tom you`re not gonna  report me

Are you ?

You know I`m not a stool pigeon

I hate stools

Then I`m thinking

Better get out of here first

So Pierre won`t think

I thrashed the washbasin

I finish  my piss

Wash my hands and exit the place fast

Then sit down

Light up another smoke

Look at my two buddies

Straight in the eyes

And say

Guys I`m serious

Don`t go in the washroom right now

And why is that Pat asks

There`s a huge shit in the washbasin

What ?

You joking Tom ?

Does it looks like I`m joking ?

Oh shit here`s Pierre

He picks up his mop

Enters the washroom

It must have taken

Ten seconds maybe

Suddenly

Bang !!!

He kicks the door open

WHO THE FUCK TOOK A SHIT IN THE WASHBASIN ?

He screams loudly

The place is silent

Nobody answers

He looks at me

I try

But I can`t help myself

And start laughing

He comes near me

You think it`s funny Tom ?

You did that ?

Of course not

You know who did ?

I don`t know sweet fuck all

He goes back

And cleans the mess

The rest of the evening

Was pretty ordinary

We split up

After last call

The next day.

Saturday night

7.45 PM

Chez Margot again

playing pool with Pierre

Tom what you did yesterday

Was wrong man

I don`t understand

You knew it was Paul

Who took a shit and dirtied the washbasin

And you didn`t tell me

I don`t know what you`re talking about

Did you know when you were talking

Someone else overheard you guys

You see Gerry was in the closed washroom

Taking also a shit

He told me everything after last call

I`m sorry Pierre

I`m not the kind of person

Well…

I`m not a stool pigeon

I know I forgive you

But Paul when he comes in

And I know he will

He`s here every night

I`ll throw him out

The fucker will never come back here

Yeah I know Tom I`ll tell him

There was somebody else

In the washroom

Who overheard you guys

Then at the same time

I see Paul outside

Going near the entrance

Pierre also sees him

He races to the entrance

Goes outside

Kicks Paul in the face

Paul falls on his back

Kinda shocked, speechless

While Pierre screams at him

God knows what he`s jabbering about

Pierre goes back inside

Picks up his pool stick

Eight ball corner pocket Tom

You owe me a small Bud

Sorry about your damn luck

Revenge match Tom ?

No thanks, I`ve had enough

Paul never came back here

No one ever mentioned his name

His whereabouts are unknown

That was the last time I saw Paul

I miss him though

The pizza delivery guy

Who looks like a used car salesman

He must be dead

Because this story happened

More than fifteen years ago

He`s either drinking top quality beers

With the angels

Or drinking warm, stale 0.5 % beer

In a warm place

If  there`s such a thing.