David Mark Brown

Writer. Novelist. Redneck. Granola. Raised on a Texas cattle ranch and schooled at the U of Montana (Berkeley of the Rockies), I am the world’s most self-proclaimed redneck granola and author of optimistic-dystopian dieselpunk, sci-fi thrillers and young adult literature.

Steampunk has been Steamy McSteamed

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Linda Harisson and her furry bikini
Linda Harisson and her furry bikini
Linda Harisson and her furry bikini

I can’t handle any more erotica. (O.K. that didn’t sound right.)  But honestly, does there have to be so much porn in all genre fiction? (In all fiction?) I follow over 100 people’s reviews on Goodreads.com. That may sound like a lot, but I have to follow at least that many to sample two or three reviews everyday that aren’t stinking steamy McSteams.

Et tu, Brute? And now steampunk has followed suit. I’ll be honest, it is the first sign of the end. How many of you knew that the golden Animal House days of randy co-eds were over when Porky’s came out? By Porky’s II? Now all we have left is Girls Gone Wild (which at least drops the pretense of a storyline). Then there were vampires. Don’t even get me started on vampires.

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Reefer Ranger: Part 6

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McCutchen awoke to several sensations at once. Scattered drops of rain chilled his exposed skin and hissed among the burning embers of rubble. Numbness alternated with electricity throughout his extremities. An orange sun brushed the belly of the clouds on the horizon. Finally a snuffling beside his head jerked him totally awake. A goat, one … Read more Reefer Ranger: Part 6

Born in a One Rib Hut Town

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lego BBQ pit set
lego BBQ pit set
lego BBQ pit set

The hierarchy of backwater, podunkville is directly related to its eateries. It is a verifiable fact (I’m assuming). Today’s mission is to record this hierarchy for posterity via the magical aether of the internets. At the smallest level of civilization there exists the “One Rib Hut” town.

BBQ Rib Hut

This is the sort of drive-by, espresso house urbanistas are accustomed to, except that it sells pulled pork by the pound and sides of red beans cooked in Guatemalan insanity peppers, rather than the brewed beans of the coffee sort (with smiley faces of foam on top). The rib hut doesn’t even technically need an incorporated town. It might simply sprout from a pasture somewhere with enough nearby pigs and cattle to keep it going.

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