What a budget ass cover. At this point in my life, I was bouncing from couch to couch, and somehow ended up on the living room of my mom's floor, driving back and forth to Richmond an hour and a half away to work second shift at the newspaper, so I was only awake in the middle of the night at home and never saw my mom or sister who lived there, just watching crap on the satellite I got installed as a Homer Simpson-like birthday present to my mom and drinking ridiculous amounts of beer. Back then I was doing a new-named zine at every house I stayed at (previous ones were The Method Manson Skynyrd, Warship Say 10, and The Gringo Manifesto), but I ended up crashing at my mom's for like 10 months because the rent was free and I could pay off a stupid credit card I'd ran up my last couple months of college.
The Confederate Mack persona was far more over-the-top than now, and a lot less politically correct, which was kinda where I was, still all fucked up with Richmond haze in my head and feeling a sort of self-destructive recklessness realizing I had finished shitty college and now had to work a shitty job. That was eleven years ago I realized looking at the intro to this issue, which is a pathetically long time to do a zine, and not very good numbers considering I've only done 51 so far. Oh well, here's a couple comedic excerpts...
(From a list of misconceptions about the South): "1. We fuck our sisters... bullshit... the closest I've ever come is me and my cousin used to 69 all the time."
(From some rambling thing after watching Rodney Moore's Pussy Fest Vol. 3 after seeing a review of it in a magazine): "I learned a very valuable lesson. The women you can jack off to real good in a magazine may be the opposite of the ones you can jack off to real good in a movie. And when you figure in literary shit like Penthouse Forum and then jacking off on real live girls or just in the bushes by the river because it's a sunny day, you just can't judge right away."
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