Wednesday, February 24, 2016

REVIEW: Tammy Lynn Sytch: Sunny Side Up: In Through The Back Door (Vivid, 2016)

THE reviews haven’t been kind so far, but I was still keen to see what former WWF/E superstar and Hall Of Famer Tammy “Sunny” Sytch had to offer. Times have been hard for the former No. 1 sexual fantasy figure of male wrestling fans around the world since her heyday of the mid-1990s.
She was a soft-core porn model in the early 2000s on a web site run by Missy Hyatt. More recently, photos leaked online of her efforts as a webcam gal.
In between, there were regular reports of Tammy getting arrested and doing brief stints in jail.
Physically, she packed on the kilos and appeared to be heavily into the recreational drugs.
When Tammy announced late last year that she was starring in a hardcore porno for Vivid, most observers weren’t really surprised. Vivid supremo Steve Hirsch gave her $100K (allegedly) in exchange for her Hall Of Fame ring and this video, Sunny Side Up.
Whether they were disappointed by her decision, excited or just plain curious, I’m sure a lot of her old male fans were keen to see her “workrate” in the XXX world.
I was no different, so I sat down in front of my computer and popped the disc in. Here are my thoughts in real time while watching it.

SCENE 1 (approx. 6 min)
TAMMY is going solo on bed. Time has not been kind to her as she sports a pooch belly and a double chin. This wouldn’t be an issue for me if the DVD didn’t kick off with a trailer just beforehand featuring a (most likely) stolen WWF/E pic of Sunny in her 1990s prime.
You can’t do that, guys, then jump straight to her 43yo self. That’s just cruel to both the watcher and the woman herself.
Anyways, Tammy’s in a hotel room, wearing purple lingerie and clearly out of it. She attempts to seductively rub her body, but it comes across as just sad. She then bends over facing the camera, pulls down her panties and shows us her raggedy vagina. No subtlety here, folks. Tammy’s gone straight to the meat-and-no-potatoes.
Brief fingering action. Jump cut. And Tammy’s now on her back, pulling off her knickers and rubbing them on her face. Ewwwwww.
Jump cut. And now they’re in her mouth. Double ewwwwwwwwwww.
OK. Have you ever seen a really drunk older woman trying to crack onto a young guy in public? The chick thinks she’s hot as fuck, but she’s having trouble standing or staying conscious? That’s who Tammy reminds me of right now.
There’s no talking, our gal’s just doing that heavy breathing that drunk people do late at night. Tits out, shaved vagina out and we have some heavy-duty fingering action. Jump cut and now a double-ended dildo’s come into play.
Tammy’s grunting like a pig in a slaughterhouse and we’ve barely gone 2½ minutes into this scene.
Three minutes in and Tammy has a shuddering orgasm. OK, I call bullshit. I don’t want to think of her as “Sunny the worker”, but this bitch is working us. That orgasm goes on forever and she acts like she’s dying.
First words spoken on the tape: “GNNNNNNNGHHHH! OH MY GOD! God yes!”
Jump cut. We’re back to a gynaecological view of Tammy’s spread cheese sandwich and the fingering continues. I want to tell her to stop, but I’ve lost the will to live.
A second orgasm is more violent than the first – Tammy punches the pillow. I feel sorry for the guys who are gonna plough this chick in the next two scenes. They’re risking serious injury.
CONCLUSION: I don’t have an erect muscle in my body right now.

SCENE 2 (35 min)
WE’RE in the same hotel room I suspect and Tammy’s kissing a bald guy in T-shirt and jeans. He doesn’t seem too keen to undress, but he’s being a professional, nursing those puppies and making small talk. Tammy’s back in her purple number and she already sounds like she’s one good rub away from Orgasm No. 3.
She’s very animated and writing around, even slapping his head just from him sucking on her nipples.
Her fake groaning and deep baritone voice is off-putting.
It looks like Tammy – no, fuck it...she’s in working mode so I’m gonna call her Sunny from now on – watched a few stick flicks and is now copying what they do to sound like a “real” porn star.
Similar to how backyard nuffies pull on those stupid wide pants, dye their long hair different colours and wear stockings on their forearms on their arms, then think they’re Jeff friggin’ Hardy.
Anyway, back to the “action”.
Sunny looks set to explode from the guy licking her inner thighs. To be honest, he doesn’t seem too keen to dive into a snatch once pumped by HBK and God knows who else in the WWF, WCW and ECW locker rooms.
But like a trouper he does and she reacts by saying something drunkenly unintelligible. Orgasm No. 3 kicks in at the 3:30 mark. Really?
She gets bossy, tells him to “calm down” and even pushes his head away from her crotch.
But the dude has a job to do, y’know? So he ignores her rudeness and keeps sucking away at those used beef curtains. Hell, if you’re gonna get an STI, do it with gusto, right?
“I have multiples,” she declares. No shit, Sherlock!
Now he’s kissing her – hell, if he has to taste that cunt, then she should suffer, too!
Seriously, I can barely understand a word Sunny says.
Finally, the dude has no choice but to start undressing. I hope he took a shitload of Viagra.
Fuck, he has a semi-mongrel. Well, that makes one of us.
Sunny goes down on him but keeps posing badly, blocking the camera’s view of her vadge. The guy gently, but repeatedly asks her to spread her legs, but she keeps forgetting and closing them up again. Finally, he physically spreads her legs.
Jump cut. Now Sunny’s on top of him. The dude and the director must’ve just said, “Fuck it. This bitch doesn’t know how to work the angles. Let’s try something else.”
Sunny’s blowjob technique is very theatrical. It looks like she’s doing a lot, but it’s more sizzle than substance. Eventually, she settles down to a solid rhythm. But it doesn’t last long.
Dude is loudly directing her, so he’s clearly not happy with what she’s doing. Actually, I don’t think he’s erect – he just has a long, fat cock.
Jump cut and we go straight into missionary position.
I assumed there was a fluffer on set to get the guy stiff.
Christ, we have another 26 minutes of this shit to get through.
Sunny has fake Orgasm No. 4 (yeah, I’m totally calling them FAKE) at the nine-minute mark.
She’s being really fucking bossy and tells him to stop: “That was a fucking intense orgasm! Motherfucker!”
Sunny’s face is bright red – she’s blown up already?
Meanwhile, dude is just PUMPING PUMPING PUMPING.
The whole of her body is shaking and rippling like waves crashing on a shoreline.
Orgasm No. 5 at the 11min mark.
“Fuck my life!” Yes, fuck your life indeed, Sunny.
These are literally the only things she’s saying that makes sense. Half her sentences trail off into garbled nonsense or just stop mid-sentence.
Dude is choking her now, and I’m not even bothered by it. It’s like when dastardly heel Triple H attacks babyface Roman Reigns, but the crowd cheers the heel anyway ’cos he’s way cooler than the face.
Orgasm No. 6 at the 12min mark.
This is an unflattering position for Sunny – there’s a huge roll of fat beneath her bodice. Did the director not notice this?
Listen, I don’t mind chubby cougars, but you can disguise the fact, y’know?
Jump cut. Now, Sunny’s on top, but the dude’s doing all the work. You can hear his balls methodically slapping against her ham-hock thighs.
“Fuck the shit out of me. Brutalise me!” (??)
Dude is choking her again. Does he hate her? Or does he just want her to shut the hell up?
“Whatchoo want? Tell me whatchoo want,” she growls in that cigarette-thrashed voice of hers.
Orgasm No. 7 at the 14min mark.
“I gotta stop. I gotta stop.”
“No, you don’t,” he says, calling Sunny out on her crap.
“I need a little rest.”
Dude is directing her again. He’s had enough and just wants to get it over with. He’s fingering her arse to get her ready for the big anal scene.
He’s slapping her arse cheeks till they’re red. I think most viewers would wanna slap Sunny, too, right about now.
Orgasm No. 8 at the 16min 30sec. mark.
This is not erotic or horny in any way, shape or form. I’m now sacrificing part of my day off to review something that hasn’t given me even the slightest tingle in my groin.
“Hold up! I’m dead-tired right now!”
Jump cut. Sunny does the job. The headjob, that is.
Dude’s stiff now – he’s probably thinking of Charlotte Flair to get it done.
“Please fuck my arse.”
OK. Now, let me sidetrack for a moment. I’ve been a pornographer for 20 years and I’ve seen how this goes.
When a porn star starts out in her chosen career, many of them say they’ll only do lezzo. After a while, they progress to boy-girl (it might only be with their boyfriend). Soon, they announce they’re doing their first DP. And then their first ANAL SCENE. After that it’s gang bangs, blow bangs and bukkake. And then their careers are OVER.
What I’m saying is, it takes a porn star (one with any brains) YEARS to do anal, because that’s practically the final taboo. After that, you either get out of the jiz biz or you progressively travel further down the path of no return. Not judging these ladies, just saying I’ve seen it time and time again.
But not Sunny. Noooooo...she gets BUGGERED in her first fucking movie! I really hope she got paid the supposed $100K for this film because there is NOWHERE for her to go from here but down.
Now, back to the scene.
More sex, this time a reverse spooning thingy. Sunny seems happy, but I’m not.
Dude has stamina, I’ll give him that.
Orgasm No. 9 at the 20min mark. Yawn.
Sunny’s O-face is distressing.
Jump cut and we are STRAIGHT INTO ANAL. Sunny appears to be stunned. I assume lube was involved.
Now, apart from the fact that I’m watching 1990s WWF/E Diva Sunny getting ploughed up the poop chute, this is still the single least sexually stimulating thing I’ve ever seen since I watched that Chyna porno where she cried at the end.
It’s a weird missionary position, too. Oh...wait for it...Orgasm No. 10 at the 22min mark.
Dude isn’t listening to anything she says now. He’s just pumping away knowing he’s less than 13 minutes away from popping, collecting his pay cheque and heading to the nearest bar to drink away the shame.
This looks uncomfy, y’know?
“I need a break. I need a break. Hhhhhhhh! I need a break.”
I assume she means cocaine break.
Still 12 minutes to go? Holy fuck, I may have to tap out.
Is this rape now? Sunny keeps saying she has to stop and rest – probably because he’s pounded her rectum into minced meat – and the dude is just ignoring her. It’s all very...disturbing.
Jump cut to doggy-style butt-fucking. Someone’s talked to her between takes, because now Sunny’s deliriously clamouring for the dude to “Fuck dat ass! Fuck me so hard that I can’t walk anymore. Fuck dat ass. It’s all yours!”
Please, dude, just cum already!
No, wait, Sunny’s decided to do it for him.
Orgasm No. 11 at the 26min mark.
The dude seems incredulous. NOBODY has ever come that many times with him. He thinks he’s a SEX GOD right about now.
Sunny’s gonna be wearing diapers for a week after this is over.
Orgasm No. 12 at the 28min mark.
She demands an anal cream pie, but the director knows the money shot (as it were) is a facial.
Jump cut. Now comes the type of porno shenanigans that I hate. We’re back to vaginal sex, but the bit where the dude pulled out his shit-stained dick and washed it off before reinserting said dick into her pussy has been edited out. So any ill-informed person watching this scene will assume he just pulled straight out of her bum and straight into her smoo. Which is misleading and potentially dangerous to the health of anyone watching it who’s under the misapprehension that you can safely swap from anal to vaginal sex (short answer is YOU CAN’T). God, I hate that in porn. OK. Enough of my ranting. I guess I have to go back to watching the end of this never-ending scene.
Sunny looks off camera to the director as if to say, “Are we done here yet? I have to go to a wrestling convention.”
Orgasm No. 13 at the 30min mark. And possibly Orgasm No. 14. Maybe it was just the same one stretched out over 60 seconds?
Dude is making Sunny earn her $100k, that’s for sure.
“Y’know you’re fucking a Hall-of-Famer right now, right?”
God, don’t remind us, Sunny.
Orgasm No. 15 at the 33min mark.
I finally worked out who the dude reminds me of: Tito Ortiz.
Jump cut. We are on the home stretch as we pan up Sunny’s sausage legs and are confronted by Tito’s genitals as he desperately tries to squeeze out some drops on Sunny’s upturned, expectant, age-ravaged mug. Finally, Tito’s fantasies about Jenna Jameson pay off and he shoots some ropey strings of gonad sauce onto Sunny’s face.
CONCLUSION: My eyes! They burn! They buuuuuuurn!!!

SCENE 3 (36min)
THIRTY-SIX minutes?! No! No fucking way. I am not sitting through another half-hour plus of this shit. I will fast forward through the “highlights”.
We’re in the same hotel room, but for a change of scenery we’re on the couch now.
A different bald guy turns up and we get the opportunity to see Sunny “act”. She’s playing a chick whose boyfriend is a cop. He’s away, so she’s called this stud over for a bit of extra-marital bliss.
The “storyline” part now over, we get to the mind-numbing fucking.
We get some very mild bondage with handcuffs followed by oral sex. Guy looks like Dana White on steroids. Y’know, an older guy who works out, gone to seed but still on the juice. He’s even got bitch tits.
Sunny’s in pink lingerie, while she enthusiastically deep-throats Bitch Tits. In fact, it never comes off, which is a good thing as we can’t see that belly fat roll.
Jump cut. The cuffs are off. Back to oral and Bitch Tits is barking out commands. He’s kinda annoying.
Jump cut. Sunny’s getting some doggy-style attention. No orgasm yet, sadly. They’re...ahem, coming, I’m sure.
Bitch Tits won’t shut up. He’s more obnoxious than Sunny.
He gives her a thumb up the date (or the “John Hopoate” as it’s known) for good measure. Then Bitch Tits gets bored and sits back while Sunny goes back to slobbering on his wang.
Finally, Sunny climbs on board for some cowgirl. We get a close-up view of her dimpled butt cheeks and a rather appropriate tramp-stamp tatt that reads, “Badass”. You said it, lady, not me.
The orgasm count is zero by the 13min mark (maybe I missed a couple through my fast-forwarding?). I can only assume that Bitch Tits is a lousy lover compared to Tito in the previous scene.
Or maybe Sunny’s not working us anymore.
They change possies to reverse spoon so we can get a full view of Sunny, which is really unnecessary. Bitch Tits sounds like he’s been on the verge of cumming for the past 12 minutes, but we know he’s still got 20 minutes to go. Shut the fuck up, cunt!
At the 15min mark Bitch Tits snaps mid-thrust, “Watch those nails! Watch those fucking nails!”
Guy’s getting his cock scratched up and is probably terrified of having an open cut as he enters that STI-riddled pussy. Can’t say I blame him for being panicky.
Orgasm No. 16 at the 16min mark. But fuck it, who’s counting anymore, right?
Orgasm No. 17 at the 17min mark is a doozy, however, as Sunny FALLS OFF THE COUCH mid-climax and Bitch Tits can’t even be bothered catching her. Learn how to work, fella! Great bump though, Sunny.
Segue to more blowjob action and a weird, half-arsed doggy position.
I wish I was drunk right now. I think this film would be much easier to take if I was as fucked up as Sunny.
Twenty minutes in and even SHE wants out. She tells him to come inside her and he whines, “Not yet, baby.”
God, could Vivid have found two more irritating people to feature in a sex scene???
At 22min, Bitch Tits can’t take Sunny’s chatter any longer. He shakes his head and reprimands her with, “Don’t! Don’t say anything!”
He gives up and demands more oral.
We jump cut just as he’s saying, “Just be mindful.” I assume he’s telling Sunny to stop scratching his knob with her fucking long fingernails!
Learn to work, woman!
Jump cut to more fucking.
“I got you, baby!” snarls Bitch Tits. Oh, really? Well, where were you five minutes ago when Sunny fell of the couch, dickhead?
Sunny trots out some more tired bullshit like, “Fuck my pussy.” To which Bitch Tits hilariously replies, “Shhhhhh!”
I get the feeling they both hate each other now, which is why Sunny can’t even be bothered to fake climaxes.
25 minute mark and Bitch Tits is complaining again while Sunny fingers her clit as he fucks her: “Watch those nails. Watch those fucking nails!” He then forcibly grabs her hand and throws it away from him. His anger is palpable.
With less than 10 minutes to go, Bitch Tits finally decides to munch and finger some pussy.
He spits on it first, which is either really hot or really contemptuous.
Did you know that as Sunny sobers up she only has two catchphrases: “Fuck that pussy” and “My pussy’s all yours!”
I believe it’s now Orgasm No. 18 at 27min 30sec, which is arguably the best one yet, because Sunny FARTS mid-way through it. Although, to be fair, I think it’s a fanny fart.
He quits in disgust and we’re back to Sunny on our knees, sucking his tool for like the eighth time this scene. Yawn.
More energetic missionary-style fucking.
“Please make me come.” That’s a worry, Bitch Tits, if Sunny has to beg you.
No, wait, she’s climaxing. Orgasm No. 19 at the 30min mark!
He tells her to “Shhhhh!”, then goes back to rooting her flange.
More doggy. Sunny’s ready to explode again for Orgasm No. 20!!! This is unbelievable.
And we finally (Thank fuck! Finally!) get the pop shot...and it goes RIGHT IN HER EYE!
What a perfect ending to this clusterfuck.
CONCLUSION: Does anyone have some bleach I can drink?

FINAL WORD: This is literally the worst porno I’ve ever seen...and I once saw Ron Jeremy fuck an 87yo woman. Hearing that great grandma’s pelvis creaking beneath the pressure of Ron’s fat belly was far more sexually arousing than this movie. You watch Sunny Side Up at your peril.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Kayfabing it: reviews of books by Jimmy Hart, Bill Apter and Front Row Section D (PLUS two sheets, Rudo Can't Fail and Atomic Elbow)

OF ALL the wrestling books that have come out in recent months, two that I was dead-keen to read were Bill Apter's autobiography and John Hitchcock's reminiscences of attending NWA cards during its heyday in the mid-1980s. In the end, both were good reads but still left me with a slight sour taste in my mouth.

Bill was a driving force in the so-called "Apter mags" stable of Pro Wrestling Illustrated, The Wrestler, etc during the 1970s and 80s, not to mention a powerful, influential figure in the business. Without Bill (particularly his superb ringside photography and backstage portraits) and the favourable coverage provided in these mags, guys like Lex Luger, Mil Mascaras, Dusty Rhodes and the Roadies wouldn't have enjoyed the level of fame that they did. Oh sure, they were famous in the various territories they worked, but their monthly appearances (usually cover-lined) in the Apter mags made them national stars. Their shortcomings (both personal and in the ring) were glossed over and they were painted as talented superstars, getting them OVER to a huge number of people who probably never saw them grapple until TV wrestling went national in the late 80s. God knows, I fell in love with the Road Warriors through the mark mags, but the first time I actually saw them wrestle (against the Freebirds at AWA SuperClash 1985) I was brought back to reality with a thump. It was the first time I realised the power of Apter and the persuasiveness of his eloquent bullshit.
Is Wrestling Fixed? by Bill Apter should have been GREAT, but there are two things that hold it back. 
Apter has a million anecdotes, but I'm certain that retelling some of them would have offended the subjects. And he could have buried any number of guys who pissed him off over the decades. But apart from an unseemly chapter attacking Randy Savage's behaviour towards him in the mid-90s, Bill steers clear of controversy. Sure, there are drinking stories and tales about various ribs, but pretty much everyone comes out of his book smelling of roses.
Even the WWE (then WWF) and its ongoing feud with the newsstand mags, in particular Bill's long-time boss Stanley Weston, is given the "softly, softly" treatment. Bill's clearly angling for more work with Vince in the future and he doesn't want to queer his pitch. You can't blame him, but it makes his obsequious tone towards Vince - who tried to destroy the wrestling magazine industry in the 1980s - a bit hard to swallow.
Apter also doesn't have access to all the photos he took for PWI, etc. They belong to the company that still publishes the magazine and clearly there's either (a) bad blood, or (b) a money issue, because the absence of these photos is a glaring omission. Bill even apologises for this. Shame.
Bill's writing style was always personable in the mags and he does a nice job in his autobiography. However, some chapters read more like shout-outs to a bunch of people than actual stories. Also, he wrote the book so readers could dip in and read a random chapter. Personally, I prefer my autobiographies to go from A to Z, rather than jump all over the alphabet.
In the end, I found Bill's book a bit of a chore to finish and it should never have been that way. 

IF YOU hate heel fans then you'd hate John Hitchcock, the author of Front Row Section D. The loudmouth and his posse of obnoxious ne'er-do-wells (aka "Front Row Section D") were regulars at Greensboro Coliseum in Greensboro, North Carolina when Mid-Atlantic and the NWA were in their prime.
John - who I first learned about from his columns and cartoon strips in  Pro Wrestling Torch in the late 80s - would write smart-arse signs, insult the babyfaces (Dusty Rhodes and Magnum TA hated him with a passion) and worship the heels. 
This book starts strongly with tons of great tales about his experiences attending Mid-Atlantic in the 60s and 70s, then sticking with the NWA in the 80s and even into the 90s.
John's a blowhard who claims a bunch of things like popularising the term "Four Horsemen" and influencing the change in finishes of certain matches due to crowd pressure (created by him and his cronies). I suspect much of this posturing is bullshit, but the other anecdotes are a lot of fun.
Although to be honest - and I can be an obnoxious heel fan at times as well - if I had to sit next to Hitchcock and his crew during their prime I would've fucking hated them. They were annoying on a whole different level at times.
The book loses its way when John talks about his entry into the world of indy wrestling as a "bodyguard" to ex-WCW commentator turned heel manager Chris Cruise. John makes it sound like every show was a sell-out while he and Cruise created NWO levels of heat with their in-ring interviews and beatdowns of fan favourites.
Thankfully, Hitchcock allows other fans to contribute dissenting views to some of his stories and well-known Torch contributor Bruce Mitchell happily dismisses John's wrestling "career" as the garbage it most likely was. It's refreshing, but doesn't stop the guy still raving on about it for several chapters.
The other problem with this book is that most of the chapters are actually columns culled from the Torch (I remember reading one or two of them back in the day). They haven't been updated (or spell-checked, which is very annoying), but Hitchcock tries to pass this all off as a new book. It's not - it's just a collection of his old war stories. In fact, while the book was published last year, the most recent story looks like it was written in 2007 (just after the Chris Benoit murder/suicide). Not sure why John didn't bother to add new chapters or update his older ones.
In the end, Front Row Section D is good, but nowhere near as good as it should've been. Or as good as Hitchcock imagines it is, I suspect.

I grabbed The Mouth of the South: The Jimmy Hart Story cheap in an Adelaide second-hand bookshop and it's one of the worst wrestling autobiographies I've read. The first half of this disconcertingly short book is fine, detailing Hart's pop music career with The Gentrys in the 1960s followed by his run as a heel manager in Memphis (feuding with Jerry Lawler and working with Andy Kaufman) in the early 80s. How much is true is hard to tell as Hart's been working people for 50+ years.
But the book falls apart after that. His WWF and WCW careers are barely touched upon and have no depth or interesting info at all. Apart from detailing his relationship with Hulk Hogan, the book is as close to kayfabe as you can get without saying, "Wrestling's real, folks!"
Weirdly, the book was published in 2004, but Jimmy clearly wrote it in 2000. Hell, he writes about WCW as if it still exists and there's zero perspective or discussion on its decline and ultimate demise. Hart couldn't even be bothered to go through his manuscript and update the relevant chapters. If Jimmy doesn't care about his book, why should we?

If this review hasn't put you off, all three books are available from either Amazon or Book Depository.


NEW wrestling sheets are always welcome in this household, which is why I quickly bought a six-issue subscription to Rudo Can't Fail. All hard-copy sheets should be encouraged, I say.
This publication is backed by Masked Republic, so hopefully there should be enough cash around to keep the zine alive for a while.
It's basically a round-up of anything lucha libre related going on in America, particularly the west coast. It's not particularly timely, nor should it aim to be. It was a fun read with features on various local shows, the artwork of Pale Horse Lucha, an interview with Konnan from 1994 (and his reaction to that interview in 2014) and a brief chat with the creators of Lucha VaVOOM. There's even a few toons by NZ's own Mister J.
Production quality is high and I would normally give Rudo Can't Fail my highest recommendation...except......I still haven't received issues two and three (which I know have been published). I emailed the editor and he was very apologetic about the glitch and tells me they're in the mail. Let's hope so or my next review won't be so kind.
You can buy the sheet (and other cool lucha merch) HERE.
WHILE I prefer hard-copy zines and sheets, I won't knock back the great deal from The Atomic Elbow, which is offering the first four issues as a PDF download for whatever you feel like paying. I think I paid US$3 (cheapskate that I am). Anyways, these sheets are a real throwback to the cut'n'paste still zines I adored from the early 90s (even if it has a modern sensibility to the articles). The cover on the first issue is perfect. The reviews of old WWF and WCW PPVs are scathing and sarcastic. The "interview" with former WCW writer Bob Mould is suitably shambolic, there's an excerpt from Box Brown's graphic novel about Andre The Giant. Hell, the whole thing just reeks of awesomeness. The Atomic Elbow is still being published, so pick up hard copies of more recent issues and don't forget the four-issue PDF deal. It's all available HERE.