blown issue #2

7/28/2019 Blown Issue #2

1/12Cover Art by Ian Casey


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Intro- Jack WilliamsI would like to begin this issue of Blownby thanking all my friends and co-workersfor helping make our first ever issue of

blown a success. I am so proud of myteam (and it was definitely a team effort).This achievement was worth all the lostsleep and the frustration. We arecontinuing to expand and to achievemore goals. In this issue we areexpanding our existing sections. Soplease read, like us online, give usfeedback, and most of all enjoy!

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Heebeegeebeez Comics - JackWilliamsOne word. Nerdgasm, that is whatdescribes this mecca of everything thatmakes up the underground culture ofgeek. Heebeegeebeez is a haven ofcomic books, trading cards, andcollectors memorabilia. It has threelocations, but my favorite is the Ogden

location. Take one step in the door andyou will notice that they are friendly andopen to questions about everything youcould want to know about theirproducts. I especially appreciate thestore because I am a huge geek. Iknow the workers of the store on a firstname basis and I have periodicalconversations/ debates about my

favorite super heroes. So if you are lookingfor a place to let your geek flag fly, checkout Heebeegeebeez comics.

Heebeegeebeez is located at 2574Washington Blvd Ogden UT 84401


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!L o c a l

ucky Slice- Mekenna Malan

estled in the heart of Ogden, Lucky Slice sits

n Historic 25th Street, changing the way the

Ogden people think of pizza forever. Its true

hat after introducing Lucky Slice to my family,

hey have a hard time eating pizza from our

ormer favorite pizza chains. Its no doubt

hat Lucky Slice is the best pizza in town, and

ou dont have to take my word for it several

eople have told me so, which was the reason

tried it in the first place. Lucky Slice ofers a

wide variety of pizzas, from the spicy Firesland to the vegetarian-loving Herbivore.

With diferent specialty pizzas ofered daily as

well as the classic pepperoni and cheese, there

s definitely something for everyones taste

uds.

s also true that Kaden called me a bitch

ecause I wanted to write this column. Its

worth it. Im such a fan of Lucky Slice that I

asily fill up my punch card in two weeks max

hello, free slice of heaven). Whats not to

ke? New York style thin crust, huge slices,

razy toppings, and red cream soda. Lucky

lice also features a new artist every couple

months, whose masterpieces you can browse

while creating your own on the chalkboard in

he back of the restaurant. Id definitely

ecommend the Bleu Moon pizza, which is

asically a triangle shaped heart attack, but

worth a taste for sure. When youre finished

xploring all the pizza flavors Lucky Slice has

o ofer, order some of their zeppoles to go to

atisfy your sweet tooth. With specialty pizzas

t only $3.25 for a slice thats bigger than my

ead, I might as well head down right now.

heyre also open until 2 AM on Fridays and

aturdays, so maybe Ill stop by for a midnight

nack as well.

ucky Slice is located on 2000 Historic 25th

treet, Ogden UT 84401.

Photos By Amber Truett


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Artwork.

Eye

Mekenna Malan

untitled- Ian Casey

Connor, Tj, Jackson (Drugs)-

London Musgrave


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CoCo Pawn - Amber Truett Man- Amber Truett


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Jack Williams

Drowning, Burning

This story is without its final punctuationts ups and downs an endless fluctuation

The happy ending seems so far awaySupposedly it grows closer everydayTurn the pages, see if you can get closenstead grow further with every dose

The taste of cough syrup calms me downBy now Ive had enough to drown

feel so far away, tricks of liquid deceptionsolation matching my minds normal perception

This whiskey quiets my thoughtsClouded by lust, I forget what Ive been TaughtWith every drink I make another bad decisionAlcohol impairing more than just vision

Sleeping pills aid me wellPrevent me from being conscious in endlesshell

The more resilience, the more I taket does nothing to numb the endless ache

Faked friendships smother realitym using you, you cant seeneed these things to dull the sting

Of the world, essentially everything

Home seems to be a placeTo set hatred free with little graceThe war never ends, Although I lose everybattleAny hope of salvation has become a sacredcattle

People target me with petty remarksHoping to light my rage with mere sparksBut nothing is more sad than thisWords like fag, bastard, and idiot, I can dismiss

And a media making profit off of these uselessthings

So here I lay, drowning in my miseryFight the fires of hate with the waters of agonyIn the end I burn with hateNot wanting to seem melodramatic, I silentlycarry this weightNever showing an ounce of my pain

For even if I did, what would I have to gain?

Poetry


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PHOTOGRAPHY.

Amber Truett.

Ian

Casey.


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Amber Truett.

Ian Casey.


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Amber Truett.

Amber Truett


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Short StoriesGolden State part 2 -Mekenna Malan once

every drop of syrup was removed from theplate, he took a long walk along the shoreline,picking up sea glass and stashing it in hispockets. When he had gathered as much as heould hold, he sat down on the sidewalk,

emptying the pieces out onto the cement. Heexpertly and patiently rubbed the rough edgesofof the glass by skimming it lightly over theasphalt. Some expert handiwork and a thinoil of junk wire later, he had crafted a small

bracelet. He planned on adding it to hisollection until he later walked past an elderly

woman sitting by herself on a benchunderneath the shade of some palm trees.Good afternoon, maam, he politely said as

he sat down on the other end of the bench.Good afternoon, she replied, obviouslyurprised, as she looked at him over the rim of

her glasses.He lifted his hand in an obligatory gesture,and her hand trembled severely as she lifted ito shake his. She smiled at him, the corners of

her mouth tight, obviously wondering why hedecided to start a conversation with her.

I couldnt help but notice that you looked attle lonely, he said. And I believe the lovelyolor of your blouse would match this

bracelet.He fished the handmade piece of jewelry outof a pocket on his backpack. I made thisearlier this morning, my father taught me how.Would you like to keep it?The elderly woman stared at the bracelet in hishand, and then up at him. She seemedtartled by his ofer, but a reminiscent beautyhone from her face as well. He handed herhe bracelet and stood up without a word.

Tears began forming in her eyes as he walkedaway.

After doing some begging of his ownand earning enough for his dinner, he cameacross a street musician. It was obvious thathe musician was worse of than he was,

because you can often tell the status of a manby the condition of his shoes. The musicianshoes were scratched and faded, and the soles

were worn down to almost nothing. Becausehe was carrying with him only a guitar case, itwas obvious that this was the only pair heowned. He was sitting cross-legged on thecorner, a shabby guitar in his lap.Whys everyone still singing about CaliforniaHavent we heard enough about The GoldenStateI guess if you like sandy beaches and blueocean waterTheres just something about it to which I

cannot relate.He stopped with several other

strangers, quietly listening to the musiciansballad. The irony of the song was so apparent,he could only think of all the reasons whyCalifornia was the only place he wanted to be.He dropped a couple dollars into thethreadbare hat before he went on his way,because the musician was obviously strugglingand was in need of some dinner.People still follow their dreams to sweetCalifornia

And from time to time Ill pass on byBut I will never stay.

By the time the sun skimmed theoceans horizon and the surface of the waterreflected bright oranges and pinks, he wasalready back in his bedroom underneath theboardwalk. He carefully arranged his blanketsover the sand, breathing in the sweet night air.He kneeled in prayer for a moment, thankinghis maker for another successful day. Thewoman who hed given the bracelet had beenrecently widowed; her children lived across thecountry. She was lonely and longed forcompany. The shabby musician had beenwalking from city to city for days, unable toearn enough money for a lunch or dinner,unfamiliar with the area in which he wasbegging. He didnt know this when he gavethe elderly woman the bracelet, or dipped intohis own funds to help pay for the musiciansdinner. Although he was abandoned and abeggar


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himself, he still had something to give them.Although he was in the same situation as they,

he thought himself much richer and satisfied.

n California, with the warmth and the starsand the breeze rustling his hair, he hadeverything he wanted, much less needed. Heexhaled a sigh of fulfillment as the sound ofhe waves gently rocked him to sleep.

The End

Short Stories

Congratulations, you completed anissue of Blown.

THANKYOU


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blown issue #2

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