A few months ago, a death-row inmate from Nevada sent our music editor, Kelly McClure, a fan letter. His name is Scott Dozier, and he seems like a nice guy on paper—on the other hand, he did steal $12,000 from a dude who had brought the cash to buy stuff to make meth, then shot him, hacked the body into two pieces, and put it into a suitcase. He also killed another man in 2002, and they never found that guy’s head or arms. So just keep that in mind when you read the excerpt from his fan letter below. 
Dear Ms. McClure,
You are hilarious and awesome and I love you, not, however, like you’d reasonably (and correctly the vast majority of the time) presume someone on death row means when they say they “love” you. 
You’ve made it plain you’re a lesbian—which is terrific, but again, not like you’d reasonably presume when someone on death row says, “Gee… I think it’s terrific you’re a lesbian.” (I guess I can reasonably presume you’re not the same Kelly McClure from Boulder City, NV, who shared her virginity with me in the shower at Jeff Yinger’s house in the summer of ’85 for two reasons: I) I can’t imagine you’re old enough. II) you’re a lesbian… although she did play softball…)
I digress.
If you’ve ever had even the most remote personal or journalistic interest about life on death row, living as a “condemned to die” individual, associations or dynamics therein from someone who is not a creep… I’m your guy.
I’ve written the magazine before to no avail, and will likely continue to until the government-sanctioned murder of my corporeal being (and maybe my “soul” too, guess we’ll see ϑ), as I’ve got a surplus of time on my hands and a catastrophic dearth of intelligence, hilarity, and awesomeness. I can only draw and work out so much.
If you’re interested you can check out my “fit for public consumption” pastels at/on my Facebook page/wall (whatever the frick it’s called). No (in the event you’re wondering), I do not have FB/computer access, it’s managed by my sister and a friend.
My most sincere thanks for the little taste I get monthly, the mag rocks way hard ass, I love it (and yes I’d marry it). I read it cover to cover at least three times and wait with bated breath for the next issue to arrive. 
Be nice to yourself, all my very, very best
Sincerely,S.R. DozierAKA Skoti
Bring a box of tissues and read more from our Hopelessness Issue:
The Secret Drinker’s Handbook
Don’t Get Caught
The Right to Die Is the Right to Live

A few months ago, a death-row inmate from Nevada sent our music editor, Kelly McClure, a fan letter. His name is Scott Dozier, and he seems like a nice guy on paper—on the other hand, he did steal $12,000 from a dude who had brought the cash to buy stuff to make meth, then shot him, hacked the body into two pieces, and put it into a suitcase. He also killed another man in 2002, and they never found that guy’s head or arms. So just keep that in mind when you read the excerpt from his fan letter below. 

Dear Ms. McClure,

You are hilarious and awesome and I love you, not, however, like you’d reasonably (and correctly the vast majority of the time) presume someone on death row means when they say they “love” you. 

You’ve made it plain you’re a lesbian—which is terrific, but again, not like you’d reasonably presume when someone on death row says, “Gee… I think it’s terrific you’re a lesbian.” (I guess I can reasonably presume you’re not the same Kelly McClure from Boulder City, NV, who shared her virginity with me in the shower at Jeff Yinger’s house in the summer of ’85 for two reasons: I) I can’t imagine you’re old enough. II) you’re a lesbian… although she did play softball…)

I digress.

If you’ve ever had even the most remote personal or journalistic interest about life on death row, living as a “condemned to die” individual, associations or dynamics therein from someone who is not a creep… I’m your guy.

I’ve written the magazine before to no avail, and will likely continue to until the government-sanctioned murder of my corporeal being (and maybe my “soul” too, guess we’ll see ϑ), as I’ve got a surplus of time on my hands and a catastrophic dearth of intelligence, hilarity, and awesomeness. I can only draw and work out so much.

If you’re interested you can check out my “fit for public consumption” pastels at/on my Facebook page/wall (whatever the frick it’s called). No (in the event you’re wondering), I do not have FB/computer access, it’s managed by my sister and a friend.

My most sincere thanks for the little taste I get monthly, the mag rocks way hard ass, I love it (and yes I’d marry it). I read it cover to cover at least three times and wait with bated breath for the next issue to arrive. 

Be nice to yourself, all my very, very best

Sincerely,
S.R. Dozier
AKA Skoti

Bring a box of tissues and read more from our Hopelessness Issue:

The Secret Drinker’s Handbook

Don’t Get Caught

The Right to Die Is the Right to Live

Bisexuals and the “Get Out of Monogamy Free Card”
Yesterday, while editing an article containing a huge chunk about monogamy and bisexuality, I was struck with the horrific revelation that people—some people—perhaps way too many people, think that being bisexual means that you are incapable of being faithful with your sexual parts to the person you’re with. Hands up if you believe that this is true. Okay, hands down, because you’re a moron.
Being bisexual means a very simple thing. It means that you are attracted to men AND women. At first I was going to say that it means you’re attracted to penis AND vagina, but that could lead into a gray area that is a whole other topic. It’s possible for a person to be attracted to a person who gives off male sexy vibes or lady sexy vibes, but doesn’t have those corresponding parts, but if you’re still thinking that being bi means you need to eat a hot dog and a slice of pizza at the same time, because you are constantly craving both and can’t possibly choose just one at that moment because of your uncontrollable wolf-like urges, then any advanced shit beyond what I’m about to break down here would melt your cogs.
One time (like, yesterday) a friend of mine was talking about her boyfriend, and how, since she’s bi, if he wants to be with her then he needs to understand that she will HAVE to touch a boob from time to time, or else I guess she’ll just die. This is perfectly fine behavior for an open relationship (which they also happen to be in) but it has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with being bi-sexual. Is it possible that people have blurred the lines between non-monogamy, and bi-sexuality? Let’s check.
Here’s What Non-Monogamy MeansThis is where you date a bunch of different people, respectfully, and openly, but are not committed to just one person. They used to do this in the 50s. It was called “dating.” Sometimes a non-monogamous person will have a “primary” partner who’s their main person. Like, their favorite or whatever. This person will sometimes get to say “naw, I don’t want you to fuck that person, because they smell like soup.” They get veto power. I personally think a lot of people over-think the concept of non-monogamy, and try to make it seem normal and cool by tacking on a bunch of different rules that will often just arbitrarily change. But at the end of the day, who cares? Fuck whomever you want, just don’t be a liar or a sneak. Live your life. 
Here’s What Being Bisexual MeansYou are attracted to people who are both the same as, and not the same as, the gender that you personally roll with in your own life. Does that make sense? As I understand it, in the world of reality, a bisexual person likes different genders (in this term it’s narrowed down to two) but that does not mean that they have to have both at once in order to feel complete. Maybe they do. There’s lots of maybes in life. Maybe the sky will turn to orange juice if I don’t brush my hair. BUT being bi does absolutely not mean that if you’re in a otherwise committed relationship with one gendered person, you will have an open license to fuck a person of the other gender, because you just have to. I love almost every variety of cereal, and want them all, but I’m not going to buy a box of each and pour them into my gaping face hole to satiate my burning desire to be filled with oats. I’ll SELECT ONE, consume it fully, and then maybe move on to another one the next day. Being bisexual doesn’t mean that your crotch is like Two-Face from Batman. Unless it does. I don’t know your life. Oh, it should also be noted that I will rampantly make out with at least two genders, but do NOT consider myself to be bi. I consider myself to be a slut. And this is also fine. And yet, I still don’t cheat on people. So advanced. So layered. 
CONTINUE

Bisexuals and the “Get Out of Monogamy Free Card”

Yesterday, while editing an article containing a huge chunk about monogamy and bisexuality, I was struck with the horrific revelation that people—some people—perhaps way too many people, think that being bisexual means that you are incapable of being faithful with your sexual parts to the person you’re with. Hands up if you believe that this is true. Okay, hands down, because you’re a moron.

Being bisexual means a very simple thing. It means that you are attracted to men AND women. At first I was going to say that it means you’re attracted to penis AND vagina, but that could lead into a gray area that is a whole other topic. It’s possible for a person to be attracted to a person who gives off male sexy vibes or lady sexy vibes, but doesn’t have those corresponding parts, but if you’re still thinking that being bi means you need to eat a hot dog and a slice of pizza at the same time, because you are constantly craving both and can’t possibly choose just one at that moment because of your uncontrollable wolf-like urges, then any advanced shit beyond what I’m about to break down here would melt your cogs.

One time (like, yesterday) a friend of mine was talking about her boyfriend, and how, since she’s bi, if he wants to be with her then he needs to understand that she will HAVE to touch a boob from time to time, or else I guess she’ll just die. This is perfectly fine behavior for an open relationship (which they also happen to be in) but it has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with being bi-sexual. Is it possible that people have blurred the lines between non-monogamy, and bi-sexuality? Let’s check.

Here’s What Non-Monogamy Means
This is where you date a bunch of different people, respectfully, and openly, but are not committed to just one person. They used to do this in the 50s. It was called “dating.” Sometimes a non-monogamous person will have a “primary” partner who’s their main person. Like, their favorite or whatever. This person will sometimes get to say “naw, I don’t want you to fuck that person, because they smell like soup.” They get veto power. I personally think a lot of people over-think the concept of non-monogamy, and try to make it seem normal and cool by tacking on a bunch of different rules that will often just arbitrarily change. But at the end of the day, who cares? Fuck whomever you want, just don’t be a liar or a sneak. Live your life. 

Here’s What Being Bisexual Means
You are attracted to people who are both the same as, and not the same as, the gender that you personally roll with in your own life. Does that make sense? As I understand it, in the world of reality, a bisexual person likes different genders (in this term it’s narrowed down to two) but that does not mean that they have to have both at once in order to feel complete. Maybe they do. There’s lots of maybes in life. Maybe the sky will turn to orange juice if I don’t brush my hair. BUT being bi does absolutely not mean that if you’re in a otherwise committed relationship with one gendered person, you will have an open license to fuck a person of the other gender, because you just have to. I love almost every variety of cereal, and want them all, but I’m not going to buy a box of each and pour them into my gaping face hole to satiate my burning desire to be filled with oats. I’ll SELECT ONE, consume it fully, and then maybe move on to another one the next day. Being bisexual doesn’t mean that your crotch is like Two-Face from Batman. Unless it does. I don’t know your life. Oh, it should also be noted that I will rampantly make out with at least two genders, but do NOT consider myself to be bi. I consider myself to be a slut. And this is also fine. And yet, I still don’t cheat on people. So advanced. So layered. 

CONTINUE

Butthole Is the New Vagina
My boss basically begged me to write this article because he thinks I’m obsessed with buttholes. I don’t realize it, on a day to day basis, but I guess I do talk about them a lot. 
I remember reading something online about how guys can’t sniff a butthole without getting a major boner. I think about this a lot. Is this why guys stare at butts so much? Because they’re thinking about sniffing them? That’s so funny and weird. But really, I can fully stand behind this because one of the first things I want to do when I have a naked butthole in front of me is sniff it, and then put my tongue in it, and then try to get the owner of the butthole to let me put other things in it. I feel very lucky that I don’t have a penis because I can do all of these things and still act cool and collected without some silly flesh tube giving me away. HAHAHA. Penises. Pffft.
I bet you that people read or hear about ladies talking about buttholes and think something like “what? What could a girl possibly do to a butthole aside from just look at it and be like ‘yup, that’s a butthole.”” And I’m here to tell you that there’s a LOT we can do. Think about it like this (well I don’t even know if what I’m about to say is factual, because I don’t know much about dicks, but I’m pretty smart about life and this is what I’ve surmised): Let’s say that a guy gets all hot and bothered by sniffing a butthole, gets a boner, and then decides to do something sexual with that butthole. I’m guessing that once a boner is achieved, the guy will put some sort of goo on his boner, ram the boner in the butthole, and then feel very pleased with himself that he did something scandalous and sexy. Well, that’s lame and a big time waste of butthole. Here’s what I like to do with a pretty butthole. (I’m gonna write this out like a short play).
Pretty lady: Oh, hey, I’m gonna get naked now and you can do whatever you want with me.
Me: Oh, that’s cool. Why don’t you lay on your stomach and put your butt in the air?
Pretty lady: OK. You’re super good in bed, I can tell already.
Me: I know.
Continue

Butthole Is the New Vagina

My boss basically begged me to write this article because he thinks I’m obsessed with buttholes. I don’t realize it, on a day to day basis, but I guess I do talk about them a lot. 

I remember reading something online about how guys can’t sniff a butthole without getting a major boner. I think about this a lot. Is this why guys stare at butts so much? Because they’re thinking about sniffing them? That’s so funny and weird. But really, I can fully stand behind this because one of the first things I want to do when I have a naked butthole in front of me is sniff it, and then put my tongue in it, and then try to get the owner of the butthole to let me put other things in it. I feel very lucky that I don’t have a penis because I can do all of these things and still act cool and collected without some silly flesh tube giving me away. HAHAHA. Penises. Pffft.

I bet you that people read or hear about ladies talking about buttholes and think something like “what? What could a girl possibly do to a butthole aside from just look at it and be like ‘yup, that’s a butthole.”” And I’m here to tell you that there’s a LOT we can do. Think about it like this (well I don’t even know if what I’m about to say is factual, because I don’t know much about dicks, but I’m pretty smart about life and this is what I’ve surmised): Let’s say that a guy gets all hot and bothered by sniffing a butthole, gets a boner, and then decides to do something sexual with that butthole. I’m guessing that once a boner is achieved, the guy will put some sort of goo on his boner, ram the boner in the butthole, and then feel very pleased with himself that he did something scandalous and sexy. Well, that’s lame and a big time waste of butthole. Here’s what I like to do with a pretty butthole. (I’m gonna write this out like a short play).

Pretty lady: Oh, hey, I’m gonna get naked now and you can do whatever you want with me.

Me: Oh, that’s cool. Why don’t you lay on your stomach and put your butt in the air?

Pretty lady: OK. You’re super good in bed, I can tell already.

Me: I know.

Continue