Flash Tabloid is a programmer at WGOT community radio in Gainesville who hosts a show that is, unsurprisingly, chiefly rants about marijuana, peppered with the occasional song. This CD-R, compiling shows 1-13, serves as an audiozine, or so I have been told. Flash Tabloid is the only non-corporate, non-business-oriented cannabis voice in Florida! Flash Tabloid wants you to get in tune with the earth and the soil! Flash Tabloid hates the oligarchy! Flash Tabloid wants you to trade and network with him! Flash Tabloid also did not provide a means of contact, but the back of the flyer says you can listen at 100.1 FM Sunday and Monday at 3:30 PM and Tuesday at 9 AM! Flash Tabloid is ready to take your call! Flash Tabloid is THERE for YOU! –Rev. Nørb (No address listed)


A true story of someone who drank like a fish and ended up murdering two people when he drove his car, while drunk, into the Dancing in the Streets AIDS fundraiser in 2012. The first half of this zine details his descent into alcoholism, and the bad choices that ensued, culminating with him looking at twenty years in prison. While he’s in prison he’s worked on getting his shit together, and came up with his own program for getting sober without resorting to religion. Punk rock nihilism has a steep price—it’s grim, dark, and ultimately sad. —Matt Average (Microcosm, 2752 N Williams Ave, Portland, OR 97227)

GETTING GET IN THE VAN, $2, 5½” x 8½”, copied, 24 pgs.

Hot on the heels of his previous literary smash, John Cage: Autobiographical Facts About the American Composer, this anonymous (unless I am really bad at paying attention) zinester created this slim opus in order to raise funds to pay for a new copy of the Henry Rollins memoir Get in the Van, which he had borrowed from his friend Jay and summarily lost. The book is now out of print and selling for like two hundred dollars, or so the story goes. And, while I rather enjoy this guy’s dry-to-the-point-of-absurd humor, it’s hard to imagine that there is a slavering, untapped market out there that is champing at the bit to toss this guy two bucks for a zine that takes about ten minutes to read, front-to-back (however, if you’d like a little taste of the merchandise, page four includes a review of Henry’s duet with Cyndi Lauper and a description of the Häagen-Dazs where Rollins was the manager circa 1981. Page five features an etymology of the word “van,” as well as a spurious email exchange between Henry and the author’s friend Jay. Order today!). However, as the stated purpose of this publication is to replace Jay’s copy of Get in the Van, we can cut out the middleman: Just send this guy two dollars, or a copy of the book if you have one you don’t want, or a hot lead on a reasonably priced copy, and his Herculean labors will not have been in vain. He closes by teasing a sequel to Getting Get in the Van, and I, for one, welcome our new insect overlords. –Rev. Nørb ([email protected])

HERE’S WHAT I’VE HIDDEN UNDER MY TONGUE #2, free, 4¼” x 5½”, copied, 30pgs.

In the second installment of Here’s What I’ve Hidden under My Tongue, the anonymous author talks more in-depth about the numerous psychiatric hospitalizations they alluded to having in the first issue. Having been hospitalized eight times between the ages of fourteen and seventeen, the author relates that these periods were not just small parts that shaped their youth. “This was my growing up,” they write. They briefly talk about the stigma of mental health, and how hospitalization specifically, and mental health struggles in general are a secret people are taught to be ashamed of. The time the author spent in mental health facilities “…helped shape every facet of who I am. And yet it’s something I rarely talk about,” noting the reason to not discuss it publicly is because “There is too much stigma.” What follows is a series of scenes from the author’s personal experiences, contrasted with the depictions of mental illness and psychiatric hospitals in American pop culture. The author talks about the fascination we have for these institutions, our desires to understand and experience what goes on inside, and attempts to shed light on it from their own personal experiences. “The answers are interesting. They’re just not sexy,” they write. They then describe at length their first hospitalization, the experience closest to “the Hollywood madhouse,” depicted in pop culture. In a ward of all teens, the narrator struggles to fit in as the new admission. Where Here’s What I’ve Hidden under My Tongue succeeds is in its blunt honesty, and this issue focusing on mental illness is no exception. –Paul J. Comeau (D.J.T., 103 N Bliss St, Apt B, Anchorage, AK 99508)

HERE’S WHAT I’VE HIDDEN UNDER MY TONGUE #3, free, 4¼” x 5½”, copied, 30pgs.

The third issue of Here’s What I’ve Hidden under My Tongue comes after nearly a nine-year hiatus since the first two issues. The author addresses their long silence in the opening to this issue by recalling what they’d written in the intro to the first issue. “When I started this zine, I said it was about the things which I might have simply swallowed, allowing them to eat at me from the inside… I said the moment had come to spit them out. And I meant it. And then the moment passed,” they write. They then commenced “looking for the voice that I’d forgotten was mine to use.” The author has indeed found their voice, and this issue is possibly the most intense yet. It’s about grief, and particularly, the grief at the loss of the author’s best friend. “Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything,” they write, quoting C.S. Lewis. This issue was the most poignant and relatable to me personally because grief is a universal condition that all of us experience at points in our lives, to which I feel any reader could relate. This has been my favorite issue yet, and I’m looking forward to more. –Paul J. Comeau (D.J.T., 103 N Bliss St, Apt B, Anchorage, AK 99508)

HERE’S WHAT I’VE HIDDEN UNDER MY TONGUE #4, free, 4¼” x 5½”, copied, 30pgs.

The fourth issue of Here’s What I’ve Hidden under My Tongue addresses belief, primarily belief in one’s self, but also believing in others. It’s also a bit about having faith. In it, the author, who works in the medical field, relates having to attend a work conference at the children’s hospital they were institutionalized at as an adolescent. “I never wanted to set foot in Children’s again. I never thought I’d have to,” they write. What happens next is the author building mental tools with the help of their therapist to take on the challenge of not only having to mentally revisit a troubling time in their life but having to physically return to the place where those painful memories originated. The author draws strength not only from the belief and support of their therapist, but also from their own internal strength. Describing their life’s accomplishments thus far, the author writes: “each serves as an act of resistance, an unspoken fuck you to everyone who told me I couldn’t.” There’s something quintessentially punk rock about that attitude, and I think many readers will relate to the sentiment. As we follow the author facing down their demons, a stark realization occurs—that on its face seems obvious—but really hits home. “People are still in there,” they write. “And when I reassure myself of my own present safety, I feel an acute sense of guilt for betraying all of those people who are still unsafe. Those are my people.” It is here that this issue transitions into a call to arms and a rallying cry that kids trapped in the system need help, need advocacy. “…mental healthcare itself is not necessarily abusive… the problem is that it can also be deeply destructive,” the author writes. “How can we see the difference before it’s too late? How do we stop more kids from being hurt?” They ask. While this writer doesn’t have that answer—and the author admits they, too, don’t have solutions—this zine is certainly a good starting point to spark discussion. –Paul J. Comeau (D.J.T., 103 N Bliss St, Apt B, Anchorage, AK 99508)

HIES #1, 8½” x 11”, copied, 14 pgs.

Seven pages of collage art made by a prisoner in Kentucky. It’s unstapled so you can just slap the art on the wall after giving it a perusal. Worth a look and we should be supporting prisoners, so write Erin a letter. Send her some well-hidden cash and pick this zine up. –Craven Rock (Kristopher Story, 26731-018 FMC, PO Box 14500, Lexington, KY 40512)

LADYHUMP #10, $20, 5½” x 8½”, perfect bound, 60 pgs.

An annual photo zine documenting some of the shows and goings-on of the San Pedro band that gives this zine its name. Pix of motorcycles, vans, and, of course, bands: Fartbarf, Lawndale, and Mike Watt all make appearances. –Michael T. Fournier (

LIGHT IN THE DARK #3, 8½” x 11”, copied, 24 pgs.

To-the-point straightedge zine featuring interviews with Abuse Of Power, True Form, and One Step Closer, a collection of flyers and album covers designed by the zinester, and the most intriguing thing: a guide to a New Age-y youth crew offshoot called ospo-core. I wish there was a little more info on this hardcore subgenre, but I also appreciate the zine’s quick, timeless, bullshit-free style. –Chris Terry (

MINOR LEAGUES #10, £5, 8½” x 11”, copied, 70 pgs.

Always a great day when this one shows up. Having completed his four-issue cycle “Where?”, Simon does a nice job transitioning back to “regular” programming, whatever that means these days: reflections on an American road trip, an archivist’s (amazing) rumination of some old correspondence found in a dumpster, thoughts on the virus, and comics. Always affable in tone, and consistently interesting, Minor Leagues remains crucial. –Michael T. Fournier (