Arthur Graham’s Reviews > The Doom Hippies III: A Great Variety of Monsters > Status Update
Arthur Graham
is on page 147 of 272
Special Agent Kandy Fontaine shook her head with vehemence. "I just can't believe it. I grew up with Dr. Huxtable. He's an icon of my childhood. Showed us all that a..."
— Aug 20, 2025 10:33AM
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Arthur Graham
is on page 261 of 272
Krystoffer Beej Plutin knocked back another shot of rye and tried to focus his swimming brain on the subject at hand: writing.
— Aug 20, 2025 12:52PM
Arthur Graham
is on page 255 of 272
"OH MY GOD," he screamed, "FUCKING ZOMBIES!!!"
— Aug 20, 2025 12:51PM
Arthur Graham
is on page 241 of 272
Face to facefuck with the awful remnants of the head of German Expressionist filmmaker F.W. Murnau after first the Zeena Shreck treatment and then Alex S. Johnson arriving a few years later with "Bring Me the Shrunken Head of Some Motherfucker," not published in Horror Sleaze Trash due to prior copyright claim.
— Aug 20, 2025 12:50PM
Arthur Graham
is on page 231 of 272
His soul dragged at the rim of his flesh. Joey wished he could speak, but his mouth had been sealed over. He struggled to move but found himself frozen. Even his inner voice had been smeared across the inside of his skull and silenced forever.
— Aug 20, 2025 12:48PM
Arthur Graham
is on page 213 of 272
"Your suffering will be legen—" began the one known as the Hellpriest.
— Aug 20, 2025 10:48AM
Arthur Graham
is on page 196 of 272
"Let's hear that again, mate."
Tony Iommi looked up from his guitar. Ozzy had that frenzied expression again, which the guitarist knew from many a bleary-eyed night watching his own face melt in the mirror. The expression was prelude to many a bad decision—hotel rooms smashed beyond recognition, questionable acts performed on groupies, the rapid inhalation of many an item never meant for ingestion of any kind.
— Aug 20, 2025 10:46AM
Tony Iommi looked up from his guitar. Ozzy had that frenzied expression again, which the guitarist knew from many a bleary-eyed night watching his own face melt in the mirror. The expression was prelude to many a bad decision—hotel rooms smashed beyond recognition, questionable acts performed on groupies, the rapid inhalation of many an item never meant for ingestion of any kind.
Arthur Graham
is on page 191 of 272
The rain had the sour, bloody taste of regretted dental procedures, splattering against the rainbow- slicked streets of Milan. Another night, another giallo brewing, though this one with a distinct...flavor. Not the usual spice of psychosexual deviancy, but something far more...unsettling.
— Aug 20, 2025 10:45AM
Arthur Graham
is on page 175 of 272
Reynaldo, the World's Smolest Circus Bear, dropped through the ceiling in a shower of plaster flakes and sound-buffering tiles. Seated astride a unicycle, he was juggling five chainsaws and already growling heavily.
— Aug 20, 2025 10:42AM
Arthur Graham
is on page 171 of 272
As they crossed the event horizon, reality shifted. The laws of physics twisted like a knife, and suddenly they were surrounded by an infinite expanse of pie—cherry, apple, blueberry— stretching as far as their instruments could detect. Entire galaxies made of custard swirled around newborn stars of molten caramel. Nebulae of whipped cream dotted the cosmic landscape.
— Aug 20, 2025 10:40AM
Arthur Graham
is on page 153 of 272
"Oh it's nothin', just a little bit of fun and play with the puddin' pops doncha know."
— Aug 20, 2025 10:36AM
"Reading Rainbow. Fat Albert. And yes, the sweaters."
"Right? As a father figure, there was none better. You could trust him. Hey, if you couldn't trust Dr. Huxtable, the world would be a scary, scary place. But as it turned out, the world of Bill Cosby was a scary, scary place indeed."