Pulp

(P.O. Box 1856 Hollywood, CA 90078)
by Mark Phinney

A bit ridiculous at times, but hey isn’t that what Pulp is? No! Hell no. It’s alluring, dark, tricky, heartracing, but not ridiculous. And of course it’s based out of Hollywood, The Capital of Ridiculous. What a dysfunctional counterculture we live in when Tarantino has to be the name to lure readers into laying down some clams on this crap. That’s why I stole it. Of course, the Tarantino interview is as real as my self-worth, and the stories don’t cut it. What happened to femme fatales, dark alleys, and guys who are too nice? I guess I have to subscribe to Seventeen again.