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Posts tagged “justin grimbol

New Release: Drinking Until Morning, French Edition

Justin Grimbol’s emotional, degenerate coming-of-age novella is now available in French! As if Grimbol’s amazingly perverse and heartwarming fiction wasn’t classy enough.


Get yours here, s’il vous plaît

Tons of New Releases! Mud Season! Tenderbear Goes Apeshit! Mother’s Revenge!


From Justin Grimbol and Atlatl Press comes a book of poetry about Upstate New York and marriage: Mud Season.


Next, Moses Guttchenridder has several problems. His business, Macramania, is going under. His lovelife is in the toilet. Oh, and he has been forced into helping a murderous garden gnome take his revenge on the brothers of a fraternity who make sport out of destroying garden gnomes. The only spot of good news is that he has been chosen at random to become the new face of Krap-Wad Toilet Paper, replacing their beloved spokesanimal, Tenderbear, who has been arrested for drunk driving. The new head of Krap-Wad, Regan Moribund, falls in love Moses, but their relationship is put immediately in jeopardy when Tenderbear escapes his jail cell and goes on a murderous rampage, killing everyone who crosses his path. The former head of Krap-Wad toilet paper, Giles Moribund, attempts to re-take over the company  by hiring a hitman, Asigao, to kill his daughter, Regan.  When Moses, Regan, Giles, Asiago, the muderous gnome and several others converge on New York City, it becomes a bloody masacre to see who will remain on top of the dangerous toilet paper world. At turns humorous and horrifying, Tenderbear Goes Apeshit is another twisted offering from the mind of Bix Skahill (Babes in Gangland and Dope Tits). Get it here!


And finally, Mother’s Revenge: A Dark and Bizarre Anthology of Global Proportions. What happens when you abuse your mother? It’s not pretty. It’s not nice. And she can get downright mean and nasty if you don’t straighten up and make amends. In this mixed genre group of eco-tales, thirty-two authors from around the globe offer up some lessons in why it’s wise to be kind to Mother Earth. Read and take heed. Your very life may depend on it!

Flash Fiction Friday: Family Sized

by Justin Grimbol

Gwen saw two beached whales and became so excited she started jumping up and down.

“Mom? Dad?” she called out to them.

The whales looked at her.

“You’ve come back for me!” she yelled.

She ran up to them.

She tried to hug them but they were too big. Her human arms couldn’t reach around that big fat whale bodies.

“I always knew you would come back,” she kept saying.

She told them about her life. It was a long story. There were lots of boring parts.

“I’m just so glad you are here,” she said.

She tried to hug them again. They were still too big. Her arms were still too human.

It was a hot day. Her parents looked thirsty.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll get you some water.”

She walked back to the parking lot and got in her Saab and headed toward Easthampton.


The movie theatre had just opened. They sold lots of stuff there. They had hot dogs and soda and popcorn and all sorts of candy. She decided to get them Diet Pepsi. Diet Pepsi was healthier and her parents were fat. Way too fat.

But, in order to get inside she had to buy a movie ticket.

She bought a ticket to Rocky XXII.

At first she had no actually interest in watching the movie. She just wanted access to buy some diet soda for her parents. But the idea of buying a movie ticket and not seeing the movie felt wasteful to her. So she watched the movie.

It was really good. Rocky had a bunch of grandkids and he yelled at them a lot. He told them about discipline and perseverance, and, for some reason, watching this made Gwen really emotional. She cried a little.

Then she thought about her parents and how much she missed them, and she cried some more.

After the movie she bought as much diet soda as she could carry.

She put the sodas in the trunk of her car and started driving toward the beach.

The beach felt really far away.

And driving was just so hard sometimes.

By the time she finally got there it was night.

She gathered up all the sodas from her trunk and headed to the beach.


The two whales smelled strange and didn’t breathe much.

She poured the sodas on them.

“Isn’t it so good,” she said.

It had been a long day.

After feeding her parents all that soda, Gwen decided to take a nap, using one of their fins as a blanket.

When she woke up she noticed that they weren’t breathing at all.

And they smelled really bad.

“Mom? Dad? Please wake up?”

She ran at them. She hurled her body on theirs.

She begged them to wake up.

And she cried.

She hit them and clawed at them and begged them to come back to life. But they didn’t listen.

The sun was rising.

The waves were loud and comforting in all the wrong ways.


You’ve heard of Justin Grimbol. Google him or something.


by Justin Grimbol

At around noon, a package was delivered to our front door. It was massive.

I dragged it inside, found a knife in the kitchen, tore it open.

The box was filled with glitter. Rainbow colored. Rainbow was my favorite color and I got really excited.

Vanessa walked in wearing the shortest short pants, making it so I could see her underbutt. Underbutt is my second favorite color.

“What’s this shit?” she said.


“That’s weird.”

“I know,” I said.

“What do we do with it?”

I looked at her with a goofy grin on my face.


Her eyes got all big and I could tell she was excited about the idea.

I rushed us to the kitchen and made us some bad ass margaritas.

At first she didn’t know if she wanted to party. It was still so early in the day. But once she had a sip of my super special margarita with whipped cream all over the top of it, I could tell Vanessa would be so into it.

We drank our first drink and stared at the glitter. Her phone rang.

“It’s probably Phil,” she said. “I’ll call him later.”

Phil was her boyfriend. He was a party planner. He planned birthdays for famous people. But he didn’t actually like to party. He never wanted to get drunk or have any fun. It made no sense to me.

But that didn’t matter. He wasn’t coming.

I made us another glass.

“Now what?” she asked.

I called up some friends.

Once they heard there was a box of glitter they all rushed over.

Usually Vanessa hated my friends. She thought they were all kinda stinky. But she seemed less annoyed that day.

Once our guests arrived, we started playing with the glitter. We tossed it around and let it rain over us. It was so colorful and shiny.

And there was so much of it. The supply seemed never-ending.

We kept tossing it around.

Eventually we got all the glitter out of the box.

The floor was covered in the stuff.

“LET’S GET NAKED!” Vanessa yelled.

I was shocked. I hadn’t seen this girl act this way since college and that was a really long time ago.
She stripped down and she looked extra hot.

Her gazoongas were medium sized and had these big brownish red nipples on them. Her ass was small. Too small, but adorable.

My friends all got naked too.

We rolled around in the glitter until we were covered in the stuff.

The doorbell rang.

I found some random underpants and put them on, but they were too baggy and they barely fit. I pulled it up until the waist band had reached my nipples. The doorbell kept ringing.


Vanessa looked nervous. I told her to relax, that everything would be fine

I found some duct tape. That helped hold my boxers up.

The doorbell rang again.

I looked at Vanessa. She looked scared. I couldn’t understand what the big deal was. What was she so freaked out about?

I answered the door.

It was the mail man.

He told me that a box was delivered to our address accidentally.

He looked at all my naked friends.

He looked at the glitter that was all over the floor and our bodies.

He looked at the opened UPS box I had ripped open.

He looked at me, my boxers, and back at me again.

I hadn’t read the name on the package. That was my mistake. If I had, I would have realized it was meant to be delivered to my neighbor.

“Oops,” I said.

“Oops?” the postal worker said. “What does that even mean?”

“It means I made an oopsy.”

The postal worker told us to get all the glitter back in the package.

We looked at him and laughed.

He whipped out a hunting knife. He pressed a button on the knife’s handle and the blade lit on fire. It was a fucking fire knife.

“I want each piece of glitter in that box now!” he said.

“Okay!” I said. “Chill.”

We all started cleaning up the glitter.

It took us most of the day to clean.

The postal dude just chilled on the couch and watched.

Finally, we finished.

The postal guy took the package and left.

I watched him bring the box to my neighbor, Big Al.

At first Big Al was annoyed that the box was all beaten up. Then he opened it. Saw all the glitter. Then got really excited.

“GLITTER PARTY!” I heard him yell.

I walked back inside.

I told my friends we should keep partying.

They didn’t agree.

“I feel like I wasted my entire day,” Vanessa said.

“I thought we had a fun day.”

“But it wasn’t our glitter,” she said. “And it took forever to clean the shit up.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

She gave me a big kiss on the cheek, then went to the bathroom to take a shower.

My friends left.

I got bored.

Fuck it, I decided.

I walked over to my neighbor’s house.

A large man answered the door.

He was so sweaty and naked and covered in glitter.

“I heard you were having a glitter party?” I said.

“GLITTER PARTY!” he yelled.

His family cheered.

I took off my clothes, left them on the front porch and joined the party.


Justin Grimbol is the author of DRINKING UNTIL MORNING, THE CRUD MASTERS, THE CREEK, THE PARTY LORDS and HARD BODIES (forthcoming). He is awesome at hugging and everybody knows it.

Show me your shelves: Justin Grimbol

This column is called Show me your shelves, but here at Bizarro Central, we do things differently. This week, we feature an author who agreed to show us his shelves and didn’t have any: Justin Grimbol. If you know Grimboli, you know this somehow makes perfect sense.

Who are you and what role do books play in your life?

My name is Justin Grimbol and I write books. But even if I didn’t write book, I would read them a lot. I love books. When I was young I read comics mainly. Underground shit. Love and Rockets. Ed The Happy Clown. But then, when I was about 21, I read Ham On Rye by Bukowski. I got obsessed with that weirdly warm and wild effect sentences have on my mind. I started reading nonstop. Now I hate comics. Too many pictures. Not enough words. Fuck comics. I write now. I write all the time. I write books and poems and stuff on Facebook. I can’t stop. It’s getting crazed.

I asked you to show me your shelves. You showed me a stack of books. What gives?

About ten years ago someone stole my car. I had so much shit in the trunk of that thing. I had hundreds of books and my entire wardrobe. I was devastated. It was Thanksgiving. I had to get home. I took the train, cause I had no fucking car. The train was packed. I cried in front of all these people and they were looking at me. Some people were looking at me like I was a crazy person. Some were looking at me with pure compassion. They didn’t know what had happened to me. Maybe I got my heart broken. Maybe a relative died. They didn’t know I was crying about a stolen car and clothes and books and DVDs. I got so mad at myself. I promised myself to never get so attached to things like that again. That weekend I got rid of all my comics, all my books, and all my DVDs. I enjoyed getting rid of all that stuff. It felt freeing.

So I buy lots of books. But I don’t keep them. I sell them to book stores or give them to friends. The stack in the photo is of what few books I keep. I call it THE SACRED STACK. I love the books in that stack. I love them too much. I can’t get rid of them.


What are some of your favorite books?

Most of my favorite books are in the stack. But there are some books that should be in the stack, that aren’t. HAM ON RYE should be in that stack. There should be more Mellick in the stack. Mellick has so many great books. He deserves a stack of his own, but I gave all my Mellicks to the kids in this rehab I used to work at.

I have a Kindle, so some of my favorite books are on that little gizmo. I love Prunty’s Fill The Grand Canyon and Live Forever. And Cameron Peirce’s Pickled Apocalypse of Pancake Island. And Sam Pink’s Person and Hurt Others. All those books should be in the stack. One day I will buy paperback copies of these books and they shall join THE SACRED STACK. But the stack can’t get too big though. I will have to get rid of some of THE STACK’S current residents.

Oh, I forgot! THERE’S ONE MORE BOOK THAT SHOULD BE IN THE STACK! Crapalachia by Scott McClanahan. That’s my new favorite book. I read it and the fucking thing blew my mind to little Grimbols that started dry humping each other. It’s so good. It’s not in the stack because I lent it to my dad. But it will be in the stack soon. SOON!

You like to write filthy stuff. What’s the filthiest books you’ve ever read?

The Dirty Havana Trilogy by Pedro Juan Gutierrez. That book is crazed. So much sex. So much raw nasty goodness. Then there is Going Monstering by Edward Lee. That’s a different kind of filthy. That book made my soul and my body feel filthy. Like I needed to take a shower. With scolding hot water. And scrub myself down with sand paper. Anything to get clean again. It’s amazing but just wrong. Gutierrez is different. He makes me want to party and sweat and have clumsy-beautiful sex.

What’s your last book about and why should we run and buy it?

THE PARTY LORDS. It’s a rowdy little book. Its like Sixteen Candles dry humped Deliverance, or the Wrong Turn movies. It’s a funny book. But sappy at times, too. I grew up watching Fried Green Tomatoes over and over again. I’m a sappy guy. And that sappiness gets into everything. I can’t help it.

The Tea House: Guest Post with Justin Grimbol

By Justin Grimbol

BudToday’s exercise is brought to you by the thirty rack of Bud that’s left over from my wedding. It’s sitting in my fridge. It’s getting older. Stronger. Beer gets better with age, right?

Most people can’t write drunk. I sure as fuck can’t. The only thing I can do drunk is make bad (I mean awesome) jokes and grab asses without feeling bad about it. I’m sure some people can write drunk. It seems fully possible. And if you can, it sounds really fun. But I prefer to do other things drunk and I prefer to write first thing in the morning, when I’m still sleepy and stinky and very sober.

But I love doing readings slightly drunk. And I like the crowd to be more than slightly drunk. Why do so many readings take place in coffee shops and libraries? Those are the worst places. There’s NO booze. My best readings have been at bars or house parties. Why? Cause people are drunk. Drunk people make a great audience. They are rowdy and like to laugh. They keep things lively, and are incredibly receptive.

When writing, I think it’s important to keep drunk people in mind. My new book, The Party Lords, just got published by Grindhouse Press. I like to describe it as being like Sixteen Candles and Deliverance had a baby and that baby is drunk and wants to dry hump your leg. I wrote it wanting it to be thoughtful and sweet and endearing, but my real dream for this book is for a bunch of friends to be sitting around drunk, find a copy of it, read it out loud to each other and then laugh their asses off. That would be pretty awesome. Maybe they would like the book so much they would read it again in the morning when they are all hungover. Maybe the sappy parts would make the cry a little. Like little cry babies. I’m getting all teary- eyed just thinking about people crying while reading my book.

So here’s the exercise: write a short story meant to be read aloud to drunk people. Invite over some friends and get them drunk. Read your story. See what your friends find funny. Talk about the story afterwords. Drunk people are great critics.
Justin Grimbol grew up in Sag Harbor, New York. He was raised by Presbyterian ministers. He attended Green Mountain College, and majored in partying.

Live Bizarro Event: Iris Book Cafe Cincinnati, OH

Join seven authors right in the middle of Cincinnati’s Fringe Fest for two hours of weird storytelling. We’ve been given a green light for profanity and content. You’ve been warned!
Iris Book Cafe
1331 Main Street
Cincinnati, OH
June 2nd
6:30 to 8:30
Reading to take place in the courtyard located at the back of the shop.

-Meet the readers –

Andersen Prunty
Andersen Prunty is the author of FUCKNESS and HI I’M A SOCIAL DISEASE, among other books. He lives in Dayton, Ohio.

Justin Grimbol
Justin Grimbol grew up in Sag Harbor New York. His parents were both Presbyterian ministers. He attended Green Mountain College, and majored in partying. He is the author of DRINKING UNTIL MORNING and THE CRUD MASTERS.

William Pauley III
William Pauley III is the author of the DOOM MAGNETIC! trilogy, DEMOLITION YA-YA, and THE BROTHERS CRUNK – which FANGORIA magazine called “A perfect example of bizarro fiction… every line is littered with wild and imaginative ideas.”

C.V. Hunt
C.V. Hunt is the author of the ENDLESSLY trilogy, HOW TO KILL YOURSELF, and ZOMBIEVILLE. She lives somewhere in Ohio.
Steve Lowe
Steve Lowe is the author of a handful of Bizarro books, including MUSCLE MEMORY, KING OF THE PERVERTS, and SAMURAI VS. ROBO-DICK. His next book, YOU ARE SLOTH! is forthcoming in 2013 from Eraserhead Press. He is not a good dancer, but makes delicious fried chicken. People generally like him until they get to know him.

Jake Wilson
Jake Wilson is a new media journalist & wordplay’er based in New York City. A collection of his short stories titled PSYCHEMYSTIC METAFICTION is scheduled for release fall 2013. A selection of his work can be seen at

Michael Kazepis
Michael Kazepis lives in Cincinnati when he doesn’t live somewhere else. His first novel, TOMB CITY BLITZKRIEG, will be out later this year.