Horror, Sleaze and Trash.

'twas anarchy at the squat this month when we sorted our mail (Bills? Compost!) to discover a little parcel in the mail box. An all-in bitch-slap-off settled the question of who got to rip it open (to Annie, the spoils. Have you seen this woman with a pair of BBQ tongs?) Inside were two copies of the very first publication from Horror Sleaze Trash, Double Penetration. Value-added was a scrunched up ticket to the Melbourne Cup, empty packets of valium, an Ironlak sticker, a torn shred off the box of a blow up sex doll, two ripped and informative pages out of a relgious magazine amongst other assorted miscellanea.

Bless Horror Sleaze Trash and their filthy cotton socks! Featuring poetry by the HST man himself, Ben Smith, and Ryan Quinn Flanagan, a tenner will get you a copy from www.horrorsleazetrash.com.

Here’s a selection that especially tickled the T-Squat taco . com