At first glance the name James M. Cain may not mean much to most people, but when you take a look at his catalogue of written works the name suddenly becomes more recognizable. Cain, who authored such greats as Mildred Pierce, Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice, to name a few, is a classic hardboiled crime writer whose name is often spoken in the same breath as the greats in the noir genre.

With some 22 works to his name, we can now add one more as a lost novel has now been found and is soon to be released by our friends over at Hard Case Crime.

Details:

After more than 9 years of detective work and negotiation, we’ve tracked down a lost novel by James M. Cain, the author of the noir classics MILDRED PIERCE, DOUBLE INDEMNITY, and THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE, and secured the rights for Hard Case Crime to publish the book.  The book is titled THE COCKTAIL WAITRESS and it has never been published before in any form.  We’ll be bringing it out in Fall 2012.

THE COCKTAIL WAITRESS is the story of beautiful young widow Joan Medford, whose husband died under suspicious circumstances.  Desperate to make ends meet after his death, Joan takes a job as a waitress in a cocktail lounge, where two new men enter her life: a handsome young schemer she falls for and a rich but unwell older man she marries.

Cain is considered one of the “big three” in hardboiled crime fiction, along with Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler, and a lost Cain novel is a major find.

This is exciting news for fans of the genre, as we are. Here’s a bit more on the release:

The Cocktail Waitress will be released initially in hardcover and e-book editions, with a paperback edition to follow in 2013.  Like all of Hard Case Crime’s titles, the book will feature a new cover painting in the classic pulp style.

You may be more familiar around these parts with Hard Case Crime and their association with The Outdoor Co-Ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society. What a winning pair!

Join us after the jump for some more appreciation of both topless women and pulp fiction novels, because today just feels like one of those days!

For an uncensored look, click here!

For more on Cain’s latest novel and other great works of fiction, check out Hard Case Crime!

There are very few things that come across my inbox that I can say I fully, wholeheartedly endorse. This, however, is something I can definitely get behind.

F-Listed community, I would like to introduce you to the Outdoor Co-Ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society. Yes, this is a society of topless women reading pulp fiction novels in public. Let that one sink in for a second.

Launched by the folks at Hard Case Crime, the Outdoor Co-Ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society, a group of six beautiful and topless ladies, met in Central Park this past Friday to read the new Lawrence Block novel Getting Off, which is set to be released on September 20. For those of you who love hardboiled crime fiction, written in the style of old 1940s pulp fiction novels, Getting Off is said to be one of the “dirtiest” books to be published in America in the past 40 years. That’s right up our alley!

More Photos>>>

If the pulp fiction doesn’t do it for you, how about some topless girls! Here is an account as written by one of the beautiful girls in attendance this past Friday:

We were like a scene from the movies. Six young, thin, pretty girls sunbathing in Central Park, with some goofy mom and dad figures to make it just wholesome enough for family viewing. Dad was telling stories about his job and Mom was snapping pictures.

And oh my God, I was topless. We were all topless, except Mom and Dad, who were actually just two good friends who liked to keep their tops on and helped us shoo away unwanted attention.

This is one of those cases where I wish I could have been in 10 places all at once! With those 10 places all being at Central Park on Friday. Here are a few more photos from the event.

For more on Hard Case Crime, click here.

For NSFW photos of these lovely ladies, click here.

Now this is an idea. Making portraits of musicians and actors who have overdosed, or died tragically, really, out of pills. Well-played, sir. First up is Amy Winehouse.

Details:

A U.S.-based artist has courted controversy by creating a portrait of the late soul singer Amy Winehouse using painkiller pills.

Jason Mecier has captured the tragic star in a poignant pose depicted by colourful medications, as part of a series of mosaics inspired by celebrities who battled drug abuse.

Rehab-star Winehouse died at the end of last month, bringing to an end her well publicised battle with crack cocaine, heroin and alcohol.

It’s complete, 100%, a gimmick. We know that. But, it’s kinda cool, right? We’d never buy one for our office, but we’ll at least pretend to care about Winehouse and this art for the next two minutes. That says something, no?

There’s also Michael Jackson and Heath Ledger art, made of pills, which we have posted after the jump.

All people are talking about today is the Rupert Murdoch hacking scandal and the pie he got in his face during the preliminary hearings.

Well, meet Jonnie Marbles. He’s the guy who pied Murdoch, and he also happens to be a “stand-up comedian.” Judgement has already been handed down by the Internet and the conclusion seems to be that Marbles is not very funny at all. We happen to agree.

The best comment we read on the Internet about Marbles was this:

You would of thought he would of put some half decent material on here before doing his lil publicity stunt! - tommycrom

Believe it. Though, such is the life of a stand-up comedian. Not a one of them doesn’t think they are the funniest guy in the room.

Our major beef with Marbles was how he went about pie-ing Murdoch, making the world feel, if ever so slightly, bad for Murdoch for a split second. Murdoch doesn’t deserve an ounce of sympathy from the public, and even if it were fleeting, the feeling for many was still there. And for that, Marbles lost.

Check out his “bomb” performance>>>

Click here to view the embedded video.

via Buzzfeed

Really? Do we still need to ask where President Obama’s birth certificate is? Don’t we already have the long-form birth certificate? Of course we do. But it’s a wonder why “Dr.” Jerome Corsi’s book, “Where’s the Birth Certificate? The case That Barack Obama is not Eligible to be the President,” is 38th among Amazon.com’s bestsellers. Yes, where is that rascally birth certificate after all? I should probably go waste some $15 on finding out the answers.

The great thing about this country is that you can write a piece of fiction, deem it nonfiction, have it 100% debunked, and still see it sell like hot-cakes. Amazing.

Unless, of course, this is a 3-page book and on the first page is the title, the second page is the actual birth certificate with a caption “oh, there it is!”, and the third page is the acknowledgements. If that’s the case, this book indeed does belong in the nonfiction bin. But, for those of you who are laughing off the Family Radio/Harold Camping end-of-the-world campaign, make sure you don’t currently own this book. “Dr.” Corsi’s pea and Camping’s pea seem to have dropped from the same pod.

On Tuesday, the “new ESPN book,” as it’s being dubbed, will be released and available for your consumption. Over the past week or so, we’ve been reading some leaked nuggets from Those Guys Have All The Fun. On the whole, there’s been nothing too damning, nothing we haven’t yet already heard.

Deadspin leaked a Michelle Beadle -Erin Andrews rift, but, again, nothing too wild. The stories about orgies and people “screwing in the hallway” are juicy, though nothing about some female intern and Mr. Met getting it on. There’s a lot of stuff in there about anchors not getting along, namely Chris Berman and Tony Kornheiser. We’ll read it, and we do look forward to doing so, but I think we were hoping to hear stories about Berman and Kornheiser high-fiving during a coke-fueled orgy. There doesn’t seem to be anything as damning in this book.

For more details on these rifts, check out the rundown by the team over at SportsGrid.

Q&A With Author James Andrew Miller (The Big Lead)

For The Sports Fan, This ESPN Book Has It All (Darren Rovell, CNBC)

Excerpt: Bill Simmons on Bristol, CT (Awful Announcing)

Hookers, Blow, ESPN and More! (Gothamist)

Yes, I know you’re still reeling from shock that someone would actually allow JWoww to contribute to the canons of American literature, but focus here people. The Jersey Shore star has some serious wisdom to impart on your dating and partying life. Check it out after the jump.

In her writing debut The Rules According to JWOWW, the reality star gives readers a treasure trove of useful (or at least entertaining) information about dating, sex, partying and everything in between. For instance:

Stop Drinking If You Vomit

If you puke it up, don’t put more in. Vomiting is a signal that your body can’t take the amount of alcohol that you have consumed. Call it quits for the evening and go clean yourself up at home.

and of course

You Don’t Need Some Fancy Guy’s Name On Your Ass

By this, I mean don’t be a slave to name brands. A lot of girls will only buy an outfit if it has a fancy designer label attached to it. That’s fucking ridiculous. Guidoa, as I mentioned, are famously brand-conscious, but that’s only for themselves. They generally don’t give a shit what designer a girl is wearing – they can’t tell the difference. You think a guy is checking out the name on your jeans back pocket … or how sexy your ass looks? I rest my case.

How I made it through college without JWoww, I’ll never know.

Via: Gawker

We all have that one friend. The one that you love for some strange reason, but aren’t oblivious to the fact that, dammit, they’re kind of creepy sometimes. If you know a creeper, we have the perfect gift to show your affection. Check out Creepiosity after the jump.

Creepiosity details the incredibly strange from hairless cats to used Band-Aids and everything in between. This 190-page book provides readers with any and everything in the world of creepy in a humorous and light-hearted way. Hey, for six bucks, I think it might be worth a trip to Barnes and Noble.

Via: Uncrate

Congratulations Rowan Somerville! Your book The Shape of Her has been recognized with the Bad Sex in Fiction prize by the Literary Review. You must be so very proud of yourself. Find out how Rowan was able to out bad sex the competition after the jump.

Wondering what goes into formulating the year’s worst literary sex scene. I think you can get a pretty good idea from these excerpts:

‘I want to suck you,’ she said, descending … She loosed his trousers, pulled away his underwear and gripped him with fingers tender enough to hold a tiny bird.

As he felt her mouth’s engulfment, he acquiesced, disappointment melting like ice in hot cream.

Naked from waist to toe, a faint wedge of paleness from a few hours of sun, streaked with shadows in the candlelight; the triangle of pubic hair, blond, a thin line bunched darkly, like desert vegetation following an underground stream. He placed his hand on the concave stretch that was her belly, letting two fingers rest in the yawn of her navel. He slipped downwards, grazing the tight skin of her waist with his fingertips. He reached her hair line and the muscles of her belly hardened as she raised herself up onto her elbows. She stayed his hand and drew him, yanked him, into a smothering kiss. She released his hair from her fingers and twisted onto her belly like a fish flipping itself, her movement so brusque his chin bounced off her head.

The wet friction of her, tight around him, the sight of her open, stretched around him, the cleft of her body, it tore a climax out of him with a final lunge. Like a lepidopterist mounting a tough-skinned insect with a too blunt pin he screwed himself into her.

And what was Rowan’s reaction to the award:

“There is nothing more English than bad sex, so on behalf of the entire nation I would like to thank you.”

I guess we know where never to go on vacation.

Via: Gawker

Via: Guardian

I knew there was a reason I decided to skip out on my application to NYU. Find out more about a professor who decided to shove a camera into the back of his head – by choice – after the jump.

This is the kind of artsy sh*t I will never understand, by do what you do academic elite. Arts professor Wafaa Bilal decided to earn his holiday bonus this year by having a small digital camera insert into the back of his head. At about 2-inches in diameter and 1-inch thick, the camera is part of an art project Wafaa is working on entitled The 3rd I, commissioned by the Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art. The camera will transmit moments from his daily life, 24 hours a day, to cameras in the museum as a way to address “important social, aesthetic, political, technological and artistic questions.”

While in theory it sounds like an interesting idea, I have a couple of questions:

So when he’s trying to get it in with the ladies, a camera is going to pick up all the moaning, groaning and bouncing?

When he takes a dump, we also going to privy to that?

OK, so maybe this thing isn’t such a great idea.

Via: Perez Hilton