‘Chestnuts roasting on an open pyre

Jack Frost nipping at your toe tag...’

Chilly greetings from Corpsy

Death and winter are cuddly bedfellows. Death is cold... as is winter. When you die, your eternal heater is extinguished and your body becomes cold to the touch and your skin goes ashen, like winter. So, in a lot of ways winter is death. The leaves have fallen from the trees, the breath of air grows icy, and it becomes quiet and still. Winter is a gloomy, depressing, bleak experience... as is death.

“Don’t catch a chill!” your parents warn you,“... or else you’ll catch the death of you!” And in the olden days, a cold could actually mean death.

But what if you actually succumb to the cold? That is an extra icy way to go. Brrrrrrr. You could fall through the ice, or ski off a cliff and die alone in the snow, or be one of the hundred or so mountain climbers frozen on Mount Everest, rigid reminders of the frigid fist of Mother Winter.

When you die, they make you even colder; put you on ice so to speak at the morgue, lest you start to rot, stinking up Christmas.... God forbid. The only thing left to warm your toes is the glow of a crematorium fire.

Have you ever felt a dead person? I have. I kissed my father’s cold cheek. Death is as hard as ice and cold as the frozen tundra. Yes, dying is a bitter experience... one which we’ll get to share and experience. A chilling thought.

We want a young hot girl, not an old cold one (at least most of us), and that’s what we provide at Girls and Corpses Magazine, the dichotomy of the warm hug of life posed against the cold embrace of death.

But we need winter...and we need death. It’s from the icy winter of death that spring grows eternal... and so we bring you this special Winter Edition of Girls and Corpses Magazine, aptly christened: The Snow Angel of Death. 

We are thrilled to have The Comedy Iceman Gilbert Gottfried, who nearly iced his own career when he joked about a tsunami. But at least everyone knows what they get with Gilbert; he is raw, crude, cold and extremely funny. Gilbert will surely rise again like a quacking duck from the ashes. We need Gilbert Gottfried folks. Laughter makes us feel alive and bad comedians “die on stage.” 

Embracing Gilbert in this issue are two hot snow bunnies: Allie Haze and Sensi Pearl who are sure to warm your gonads.  Also, our winner of the Miss Dead Pageant, Bonnie Rotten, reveals herself in a tale of good and evil, (the black) Angel of Death V.S. (The white) Snow Angel of Death.

Making this an extra special issue, we have an exclusive interview with the Godfather of Gore himself, H.G. Lewis, and an original piece of artwork we commissioned on our back cover by Nenad Gucunja. There are so many other special surprises lurking in this issue for you to dig through, it’s like being buried in a horrific avalanche of comedy.

So, throw another corpse on the fire and cuddle up with your dead ones. We hope this issue makes you feel all warm and tingly inside... because the alternative is an icy drawer at your local morgue.

Rot on, my frigid corpses!