Pussy Control: The Feminists Anthem O(+>

Pussy Control contains an important message for females of all ages, but is often overlooked due to what is considered to be “graphic language.” However, the battle cry of womanhood is personified by taking a word sometimes meant to be used as offensive or degrading and given power through our heroine, the One and Only Pussy Control. 

Pussy was bullied in school, but sought her revenge with visions of success. She was determined to make something of herself. She could have easily let it get to her or undermine her value, but no; Pussy decided she was going to be something bigger than all of them put together. She rose up, got herself educated, exerted an iron rule by “hiring the heifers that jumped her and made every one of them work for free” (Prince, 1995). This is the power of Pussy. And she didn’t stop there. 

Pussy was well aware that there were good men in this world, only she chose not to trifle with any man until they proved herself to her, but not until she “had bank in her pockets” (Prince, 1995). And in those cases when she did entertain the attention of a man, it was because she chose to, and not because they told her glittering lies and false promises of things she could provide for herself. She did not want for the material, money, or even love, as she had it all through her own power, and because of that, she knew she could never be owned.

Pussy Control is a lyrical story of inspiration for all women, whether we are enduring the senseless bullying of grade school torture, in the stages of early adulthood figuring out what to do with our lives, or gaining our own ground in our early thirties after being in a controlling relationship. It is a song for the ages, and one not to be ignored considering the ever-present reminders that women have yet to come out on top in society, but we can take “control” of our own lives. 

Prince. “Pussy Control.” The Gold Experience, Warner Bros, 1995. 


Goddess of Hex, Blood, & RockNRoll: Venus DeVilo Does Christmas 

Everyone’s favorite little ghouligan, the silver-tongued devil Venus DeVilo, is just in time to give us goth and alternative folks just what we wanted for the holidays: a black Christmas with her digital holiday album, comic book, and Killendar 2016, Slashing Through the Snow.
With a voice more haunting than a banshee, Ms. DeVilo exudes a holiday spirit that the Ghosts of Christmas only wish they had.

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Venus’ delightfully spine-tingling tune, Santa Slay, is enough to keep the little ones awake on Christmas Eve, waiting for the not-so-jolly man. The Night Before Christmassacre creates a beautifully sinister atmosphere which makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, as if I’m exchanging gifts with Sir Christopher Lee himself in Dracula’s castle (may they both rest in peace.) And let us not forget the smooth gloomy sound of Mistletoetag, with its sing-songy melody, reminiscent of darkly styled iambic pentameter.

With her creepy characters, the 2016 “Killendar,” and beautiful voice with coupled with a musical backdrop so akin to the season of Samhain (credited to Venus herself and sound engineer Darren Tormey), Slashing Through the Snow makes a great gift to yourself, or for your friends. Also, it makes a perfect gift for your homies in Facebookland who live in faraway places. I can’t think of a better way to say “Scary Christmas” than that!

If you’re digging this, check out other Venus DeVilo merch here.

And if you wanna give her a shoutout, she’s on Facebook at htts:/www.facebook.com/VenusDeViloTheVoiceOfHorror


WATCHED! a short story by Joslyn Corvis

“Typed” on my iPod, so please forgive errors on this story. A short horror story. WARNING: semi graphic horror and adult content. NOT FOR SQUEAMISH PEOPLE!!!

She came into the kitchen from the garage,… just as she always did at 5:38 pm on a Friday. She took a frozen dinner from the freezer, popped it in the microwave, then sat in front of the telly to watch her favorite shows. After cleaning up, she jumped in the shower at 8 pm, where she sensuously lathered her voluptuous form.

Every day was the same, except for Thursdays when she’d come home with her arms full of groceries and weekends when she lazed about the living room as her insomnia medication caught up with her.

She arose from the shower wearing a towel, and since it was Friday, she took an extra dose of her sleep aid. Still in her towel which had partially come off as she fell to her bed, abandoning any sense of grace and revealing just enough skin to tease, she listened to the familiar pops and creaks that echoed through the house. Then came a very steady sound: creeeaaaaak, thump. creeeaaaaak, thump. She felt as if she were being watched for a fleeting moment, but the medication made it impossible for her to open her eyes.

He knew that, just as well as he knew her every move. She was so predictable, which made it far too easy for him to remain hidden as he watched her. He had studied her for a good while now, enough to know the smallest details about her. How she applied her makeup in the morning before work. How she kicked off her shoes when she sat down to dinner. The way she held her fork. The pattern she traced along her body with her sponge as she lathered up in the shower; that was his favourite part of the day, when he remained concealed in the ceiling just above the shower stall, watching through a hole that he’d cut out which she believed to be nothing more than a spot that needed a patch job.

As the sounds merged into a dreamlike fog that she would forget by morning, she fell into a deep sleep as he watched from the cozy little rocking chair. He froze as he saw her eyes flutter open, a look of panic on her face as well as his own, only hers lasted for just a split second as she thought she saw someone sitting in the chair across from her while his lingered longer as he looked around for something to use as a weapon to protect himself from discovery; he could have no witnesses to this hobby, this guilty little pleasure of his. Lucky for him, she’d forget by morning and he had faith in that. So predictable. And just like that she was sound asleep.

Relieved, he stopped searching the darkness for a weapon and started to breathe again. He felt safe again, but only because he didn’t know that she and her doctor had decided to slowly decrease the dosage of her sleep medication starting Monday so she wouldn’t sleep so hard that she couldn’t wake up. The hope was that she’d no longer need them.

He smiled to himself as he sat back comfortably in the chair and resumed rocking.

Creeeaaaaak, thump. Creeeaaaaak, thump.


Joslyn Corvis Attempts a Romantic Story

WARNING: This is pretty graphic!

She ripped the shower curtain open and was about to step into the tub when she saw it—the thing that made her emit a high-pitched blood curdling scream.

“What is it?” he asked as he ran to the bathroom to his wife’s side.

“Th–There!” she pointed. His gaze followed and he saw a small spider on the wall.

“Oh, it’s okay,” he said, leading her to the bed in the next room and pulling her onto his lap. “It’s okay.”

She sat there, feeling the safety and comfort in his arms as she quivered; she hated spiders, but now she felt safe.

He caressed her face, then her hair, telling her that everything was going to be all right. Then, he laughed.

“You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” she asked, looking at him with vexation.

“No, no. Not at you, honey. It’s just—I want to remember this moment forever. Just the way you are right now. You feel so perfect in my arms.”

She leaned into him and nuzzled her chin to his neck. Discreetly, he pulled the sheet back on the bed and reached for something shiny, which he plunged into her back, twisting inside her meat. She didn’t see it coming, but the unexpected rush of pain left her with a sense of confusion which was written all over her face as she looked up to greet his tender smile. She had no idea what had just happened, and the shock soon took over her body as she faded into nothingness.

“Shhhh,” he said softly. “Sleep now, my angel.”


Is Insomnia More Prevalent in the Age of Facebook?

I was going to write about how insomnia may have become an issue in itself, independent of being a sleep disorder or symptom of a medical condition. I was curious as to whether the epidemic of social media addiction alone may be to blame for the Insomniac Takeover of Facebook late at night. But because I wouldn’t be able to accurately say for certain since I don’t trust polls, especially ones that would be taken in my tiny social arena of like, four people (and that’s probably an over-estimation), which would give too limited a view, and also because numbers and statistics don’t convey the big picture, I decided to try to open some dialogue about it to see what other people think. For instance, as off-the-wall as this may seem, it could be that extreme cases of coffee addiction in individuals who are caffeine-sensitive is to blame for the inability to sleep, and instead of watching TV, maybe they opt for the social interaction Facebook and other networking sites provide. Since it might seem they’re on at all hours of the night, and day as well, it could be mistaken for social media addiction. And the addiction would then be blamed for the lack of sleep. That’s not to say people who seem like they’re on Facebook all the time are, because there’s always a bigger picture to everything. Well, in most cases there is, but as for me, it seems like I’m always on Facebook because I am, which is compensation for having absolutely no “real” life whatsoever. I never set foot out of the house and haven’t seen the sunlight in ages. I haven’t seen another human being in the flesh in, oh what is this? 2014? I guess since 2005. And I wouldn’t have known what year it was if it weren’t for this convenient little calendar in the corner of my laptop. Okay, not really…

But there’s a variety of things that could cause erratic sleep patterns, or the inability to sleep, such as caffeine sensitivity, chronic pain conditions, being a parent (worrying about your kids, or getting up with them in the middle of the night), having animals that wake you up to be let out, anxiety which seems to be extremely common, a drip in a faucet that the landlord promised to fix…SIX YEARS AGO! And that list goes on. And many people work late or night shift, so that may also give the impression that they’re insomniacs if we go by Facebook alone.

So, that being said, what is your opinion on the matter? Is insomnia really more prevalent than it used to be with the introduction of social networking, or does it just seem that way because people post about how they can’t sleep? Have you been diagnosed, or even diagnosed yourself with insomnia? What do you think causes it?


Sweet Valley Goths: The Dirty Gothic Underworld of Sweet Valley High (FanFic)

This is in no way meant to infringe upon the SVH series.

Joslyn kicked a chair from under the cafeteria table with her Dr. Marten boot, set her tray down, and swung around, sliding fluidly into the chair. She was angry. Angry at the world and at all of the smiling faces in the cafeteria. She knew better. She knew all about the drama that went on with the Wakefield twins and all their friends.

Sam Woodruff was dead, and Joslyn wanted to see Elizabeth get life in prison for killing him. As far as she was concerned, Elizabeth was a murderer and should pay for what she had done. And Jessica, well she was a whole ‘nother story. She’d spiked the punch that caused her twin sister to crash the jeep, and she was equally as guilty, but Joslyn couldn’t have cared less about Jessica. Elizabeth was the threat.

Joslyn had been seeing a secret lover at Sweet Valley High. It was a taboo kind of love, the kind that doesn’t exist in the perfect world that those who lived in Sweet Valley wanted the outsiders to believe. If those books hadn’t come out, no one would have known about the horrors that lay beneath the perfect picket-fenced facade of the city, but the goth kids were never once talked about in the sacred SVH texts. . Joslyn looked for her laptop in her backpack, but realised this was another place, another time. Laptops still hadn’t been invented yet. She would have turned on some Justin Bieber on her phone, if she had one, but just as well since JB had yet to be born.

She sighed heavily, remembering the love she felt for her forbidden fruit. Todd, her mind echoed as her best friend Lynelle popped up behind her and covered her eyes.

“Guuuess who!” she said, but Joslyn was in no mood. Lynelle tried so hard to get her out of this funk, but with Todd being preoccupied with Elizabeth going to jail, she felt invisible to him.

Lynelle sat down next to her and curled an arm around her. “I know it’s hard, Jo. But you gotta get past this Todd thing. He ain’t even all dat fine, anyway!”

“I can’t tell you where I’m going, but I want you to know I’ll be around. But I have to do this for myself. I have to do this if I want to make a name for myself here in Sweet Valley. It’s going to take a little while, maybe four or five books down the line, but I need your blessing.”

“Jo, you have my blessing. You’re my best friend and I love you, but you know that already. Whatever it is that you need to do, you have my support. One-hundred percent.”

Joslyn looked at her friend and smiled, tears nearly welling in her eyes. “Thank you for understanding.”

Sometime later…sometime during the Margo-Evil-Twin book…

Joslyn saw her chance. She knew that crazy bitch Margo had come to Sweet Valley and was going to try to take the place of a Wakefield twin. Uh-uh, not on Joslyn’s watch. Joslyn thought of this a long time ago and wasn’t about to have someone come in and take over her own plan. Joslyn had undergone surgery to make herself thin, and had some work done in the vein of experimental surgeries that would make her hair blonde forever so that roots wouldn’t show, and another procedure to turn her eyes into that same clear ocean blue colour that the narrator always talks about in the SVH books when describing the Wakefield twins. As unbelievable as that may sound, it’s fiction so don’t overthink it. Joslyn didn’t when she signed the medical human-guinea-pig waivers.

Skipping the boring part to make this story shorter, Joslyn somehow took Elizabeth down to her basement.

“I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse,” said Joslyn. “Either you hightail it to my hometown, or I’ll everyone about you.”

“What about me?” Liz asked hesitantly.

Joslyn slapped her across the face with an open hand for no other reason than providing some dramatic action in this slow-paced fan-fic. “I’M ASKING THE QUESTIONS AROUND HERE! Besides. Margo is pretty cray-cray and I think I can handle her better than you can. And just…just come on, do it for me? Please? I’ve always wanted to be a Wakefield twin. Plus, where I’m from, technology is like, so super cool. We have phones that can tell you the temperature and what movie is playing!”

“Sure,” said Liz without giving any argument, since it would be easier to just comply. After all, Liz was used to being written to do whatever she was told, so who was she to go against the grain now?

Fast forward to somewhere around the end of The Evil Twin book…

Joslyn was now in Elizabeth’s place. Margo was dead. And the people of Sweet Valley temporarily breathed a sigh of relief, particularly Jessica and her sister, whom she thought was Elizabeth but was really Joslyn. Now that Joslyn was a big part of the Sweet Valley series, she longed for that underbelly that no one dared speak of. She had Todd all to herself, but she missed her friend Lynelle who had become invisible because of the way the series was written, but she knew she was there somehow. So one day, when the new Elizabeth was supposed to be sleeping, she snuck out and told Lynelle what had happened and of her true identity. A few days later, Lynelle came back with a new identity: Enid Rollins.


Randy and Walter: American Wasteland – book by Tristan Slaughter, review by Joslyn Corvis

So I got this book, Randy and Walter: American Wasteland. And I read it. And wow, just wow.

Here’s the link, by the way.
http://www.amazon.com/Walter-American-Wasteland-Trilogy-Volume/dp/1492277436

It was a deeply offensive book, but I know Tristan Slaughter and know that he is out for shock and doesn’t actually believe the things he writes about. He included a preface and with a book like this, I think it’s necessary given the ongoing gorefest in the book. I also know Tristan is about shock value, and he did not fail in delivering. I waited it out to write a review because I’m so bogged with a billion other things that I wanted to do this book justice with my interpretation of it, and also I’m hoping the next book will be out soon. So let me stop beating around the bush and get to my assessment of it.

Violence and gore abounds in the book, so it’s not for the squeamish. It is a satisfying read and I don’t want to give too much away so I’ll try not to, but it’s also a very thought-provoking piece that I felt was metaphorical in so many ways. It mirrors real life through supernatural horror.

This story is told in a way something like Dracula. It stops detailing one set of characters and picks up with another and catches up again. I loved that aspect because you get to see what they’re going through without having a billion things happening at once, so it’s very easy to keep up with and remember “who’s who” as you’re reading.

Randy didn’t seem to be in the book as much as Walter, but you get a feel for him even if you haven’t read the other books in the series. However, there is a sixteen year old girl (here’s where it may be a spoiler alert so stop reading if you want to be surprised!) who somehow wiggles her way into our hearts and garners our sympathy as she’d been sexually abused by men throughout her adolescence…which was spent in the prison system for murdering her parents when she was just a tween! This spirals into another random act of violence, and no prison was strong enough to hold her. Once she went on a rampage, she didn’t need guns or blades; her hands and teeth became deadly weapons. Her thoughts are more precocious than her chronological age, but she gives the impression of a wild animal. Unpredictable and savage. But let me address some other things in the story.

I loved how Tristan Slaughter brought himself into the story in the most unimaginable way possible. That was a huge point of interest for me. It wasn’t that he brought himself into the story, but the way he did it.

The storyline was great, and there was an interesting plot line that leaves you asking yourself, “What happens next?” I can’t recommend this book highly enough to those who are bored with romance and the “blah” selection of books out there.

Above was my review, and below is my analysis of what I got from the book because I do feel there was a deep sense of intelligence that went into it because I felt it was written in a way that addresses the current state of the world.

And one thing I absolutely loved about the book. Everything had names similar to things we’d recognise in “our” world. “Mall-Hart” was a superstore mentioned several times throughout the book, and there was a place called “Armadillo, Texas” among several other things. It gave it a sense of reality coupled with a sort of “comic-relief” because I giggled at times when I associated the fictitious places and things with the real ones. Also, some of the things were done in what I feel was a parody about reality. Such as the names of celebrities. Which brings me to something I adored about the book.

I feel that Hollywood is rife with a lack of talent these days. I have no interest in celebrities, and I feel this book addressed how we turn a blind eye to a lot of the important issues in the world and in our own lives in exchange for those who have no connection to the real world. I do have disdain for those in show business, and it’s actually not directed at the celebrities themselves but rather the way people swoon over stars. They’re just people, nothing special, and every time some mundane event takes place in their lives, it’s news. So&So had to cancel concerts due to strep throat. This couple is getting married (finally!) or breaking up (inevitably!). So&So is having a baby, get the exclusive pictures here! I feel it’s obnoxious. Financially, they don’t have a care in the world so why are people supporting them by purchasing magazines featuring celebs on the cover who just had a baby or tuning into mindless TV, while part of the world can barely afford to put food on the table with a full time job, and sometimes have to choose between food, utilities, and medication, but people are buying the magazine to hear a celeb talk about a week long hospital stay due to their exhaustion from being overworked? It doesn’t make sense to me.

That being said, the gross, horrible depiction in this book of the rotten underbelly of Hollywood made me smile. It also made me want to be sick to my stomach, and I even sat for a moment in pure shock in one point and even now, there is a certain part in that book that truly disturbs me to my core. A whole book based on violence and gore and one single scene disturbed me. I think it was because the book was so fast-paced I didn’t focus on what was happening but rather the story. However, this was a part where the pace had slowed down, and this particular scene just sorta slaps you in the face and gets your attention. But the bits about Hollywood corruption perfectly depicted not how I feel about celebs, but rather how we arbitrarily commit idolatry with them. And the sickening metaphors echoed directly to me. Because I feel that stardom is nothing more than a glossed over “Wasteland” (no intention of using that word from the book’s title but I found it suitable).

I also feel that the violence in the book is a statement against actual violence, but also how we treat each other and what we’re doing to this world. In a literal sense, of course we don’t condone violence. But figuratively we are destroying our world and each other. It’s no secret that I’m a Democrat, and the issue of global warming is becoming a scary reality. We turn a blind eye to inequality when it doesn’t affect us, but it truly does even if it’d indirectly. And we inflict pain, sometimes to the extent of emotional scarring upon others with our words.

Maybe I’m overanalysing because I feel this book was written with an injection of intellect in the guise of a really intriguing story. But that’s what I took from it. And that’s the message that hit home for me.