
The Ringer

The website of the greatest pulp fiction writer who ever lived


When Hack first saw the ridiculous golden sneakers that Donald Trump was selling for $399 a pop, he became so violently ill that he awoke days later in a pool of his own vomit. As he trudged to the bathroom to hose himself off, he regarded the puke caked to his feet and concluded that it looked much better that Trump’s stupid, overpriced shoes.

Happy heavenly birthday to George Nissen, inventor of the trampoline!

Happy heavenly birthday to Paul Newman!

A joyous happy birthday to the great James Earl Jones! (He picks himself up and kicks Boris’ butt in the ring, and then they go out for pie together.)

Hack wrote this novel as a companion piece to a mystery board game that he hoped would pay off his back-breaking personal debts but it just resulted in a massive plagiarism lawsuit from Hasbro over their game Clue that put him so deeper in debt that he not only had to declare bankruptcy for the sixth time but spend his free hours as an anti-fluffer in porn films for stars whose Viagra-induced erections wouldn’t go down after four hours requiring Hack to spit on them and curse about how easy the younger generation had it until the stiffies withered.
Continue reading “Whodunnit?”
Happy Festivus!!!

Happy birthday to Johnny Bench!

When Hack’s cover artist Jonny M posted a picture of his “Dude” Xmas ornament on Instagram, it was so popular that Hack immediately crapped out this rip-off novel of a Big Lebowski-like story that Hack changed just enough of that he thinks he won’t get sued (even though he ALWAYS does). The pug abides.


Happy Play Monopoly Day!!!