BOILED CAT
WWW.BOILEDCAT.COM
Hours of Mind Blowing Entertainment!
A note from Thrash (lead singer of Boiled Cat)
Some people have been upset by the name of our band, Boiled Cat. It actually has nothing to do with cats or boiling water. It is a euphemism for a piece of female anatomy that we in the band hold dear to our hearts and ... erm ... other body parts.
Sixteen year old Thrash, the rowdy lead singer of the punk band, Boiled Cat, is seeing skulls in the faces of his band mates. Although he knows this isn’t a good sign, it’s the least of his worries. While Thrash struts for screaming crowds, he is being stalked. Thrash’s abusive uncle is determined to destroy the band and Thrash along with it. And that’s not all, Thrash’s best friend is experimenting with drugs, and Jenna-Lee, the high-spirited, triple pierced drummer for Tongue the Frog, is exposing strange new emotions Thrash would prefer to keep buried. Working through it all is no easy task for someone whose first instinct is to run. But to keep the only family he’s ever really wanted, he’ll have to stay and fight.
Reviews of Boiled Cat
"Firmston lays out her characters well. I cared about them. The story delivers the vibe of a band on the road, from Thrash’s point of view, in his vernacular. Though band life, I imagine, would be a complex tangle, the plot could use a stronger arc. The story could focus more on one or two themes it raises. On the whole, though, Boiled Cat was an engaging read."
- by Bill Bunn on FreeFall Magazine's Blog http://freefallmagazine.wordpress.com/2014/02/26/book-review-of-boiled-cat-by-kim-firmston/
- by Bill Bunn on FreeFall Magazine's Blog http://freefallmagazine.wordpress.com/2014/02/26/book-review-of-boiled-cat-by-kim-firmston/
"Kim Firmston has captured the gritty reality of what it's like to tour in a busy rock band, and the varied relationships, challenges and sometimes harrowing experiences of one young man's life. I urge every person who dreams of the glamour of the rock star life to read this enlightening novel!" - MJ Uszy
"In a world of insanely fantastic characters, settings that weave perfectly and a plot that will shock you (in a very good way) Kim Firmston has presented the punk rock band and the novel that share the name "Boiled Cat". As you follow the hilarious pranks and conversations of the band, Firmston knows exactly when and where to spark a deep issue, seemingly throwing off the balance of your reading universe.
The band members were believable, in a non-believable way, so much so that I'm not ashamed to admit I grew a bit of a crush on Paris.
Firmston shows exactly what I wouldn't expect from life in a band, and now it has given me a weird mental image of what boy bands do backstage. Scarring, but magical.
All in all, this is a must-read for anyone with good taste. You will love it, I promise.
That is all." - Olive DiCintio
The band members were believable, in a non-believable way, so much so that I'm not ashamed to admit I grew a bit of a crush on Paris.
Firmston shows exactly what I wouldn't expect from life in a band, and now it has given me a weird mental image of what boy bands do backstage. Scarring, but magical.
All in all, this is a must-read for anyone with good taste. You will love it, I promise.
That is all." - Olive DiCintio
An excerpt from Boiled Cat
Kelowna – British Columbia
October 29
Screeching feedback vibrates the stage and threatens to blow my already blasted ears completely out of my skull. I grab a drink and watch my band mates work the chaos, throwing the sold out crowd into a complete frenzy. Paris, teeth clenched, thumps the drums, his eyes squinting through the sweat running down his face. Will hunches over his bass, his head inches away from its thick strings, fingers plucking hard, up and away. Costumed as a pirate, Kevin adds to the musical mayhem, drawing his bow across the strings of his electric violin, twisting the sounds into a low howl of confusion. Jayson’s fingers are a blur on the neck of his blue Gibson SG, sending note after note into the thick air.
The salty smell of adrenalin fills me. I take one last drink of lukewarm glacier water, tasting slightly of plastic, then leap high in the air and rush towards centre stage, my hair flying in a halo around me. My stage makeup, a modified lightning bolt that comes down around my left eye — red outlined with black, scars my face and twists my features. I scream like a banshee, loud and long. The crowd screams back, I laugh, and so do they. Then I sing:
There’s a kid with a helmet on
He skates on the walls, pisses on the lawn
His mother rags him constantly
He says, ‘Shut up! Let me be free!’
Eat a sandwich dipped in acetone
Fry your mind in the acid zone
Masturbate till you blow your bone
Kids don’t try these tricks at home
Suzy lifted from a stationary store
She had elastics, but needed more
Made a chain tied to a tree
Fastened her ankles and jumped – bungee!
Eat a sandwich dipped in acetone
Fry your mind in the acid zone
Masturbate till you blow your bone
Kids don’t try these tricks at home
Want a volcano in your living room
Mix bleach and Ajax till they go BOOM
Be a schizo, you’ll never be alone
Kids don’t try these tricks at home
Not at home!
Not at home!
GO TO GRANDMA’S HOUSE!!!
The song comes crashing to an end. I pull my old-fashioned, corded microphone off its stand and, using the cord to gain momentum, I whip it at Jayson’s head, then run leaping into Paris’ drum kit, landing in a sea of wounded percussion instruments. Paris stares unmoving for a moment, then with a shrug, fires his drumsticks into the audience and leaps into the drums as well.
October 29
Screeching feedback vibrates the stage and threatens to blow my already blasted ears completely out of my skull. I grab a drink and watch my band mates work the chaos, throwing the sold out crowd into a complete frenzy. Paris, teeth clenched, thumps the drums, his eyes squinting through the sweat running down his face. Will hunches over his bass, his head inches away from its thick strings, fingers plucking hard, up and away. Costumed as a pirate, Kevin adds to the musical mayhem, drawing his bow across the strings of his electric violin, twisting the sounds into a low howl of confusion. Jayson’s fingers are a blur on the neck of his blue Gibson SG, sending note after note into the thick air.
The salty smell of adrenalin fills me. I take one last drink of lukewarm glacier water, tasting slightly of plastic, then leap high in the air and rush towards centre stage, my hair flying in a halo around me. My stage makeup, a modified lightning bolt that comes down around my left eye — red outlined with black, scars my face and twists my features. I scream like a banshee, loud and long. The crowd screams back, I laugh, and so do they. Then I sing:
There’s a kid with a helmet on
He skates on the walls, pisses on the lawn
His mother rags him constantly
He says, ‘Shut up! Let me be free!’
Eat a sandwich dipped in acetone
Fry your mind in the acid zone
Masturbate till you blow your bone
Kids don’t try these tricks at home
Suzy lifted from a stationary store
She had elastics, but needed more
Made a chain tied to a tree
Fastened her ankles and jumped – bungee!
Eat a sandwich dipped in acetone
Fry your mind in the acid zone
Masturbate till you blow your bone
Kids don’t try these tricks at home
Want a volcano in your living room
Mix bleach and Ajax till they go BOOM
Be a schizo, you’ll never be alone
Kids don’t try these tricks at home
Not at home!
Not at home!
GO TO GRANDMA’S HOUSE!!!
The song comes crashing to an end. I pull my old-fashioned, corded microphone off its stand and, using the cord to gain momentum, I whip it at Jayson’s head, then run leaping into Paris’ drum kit, landing in a sea of wounded percussion instruments. Paris stares unmoving for a moment, then with a shrug, fires his drumsticks into the audience and leaps into the drums as well.
A gilmpse from the Boiled Cat website
The Boiled Cat website has so much interactive stuff it will blow your mind. Seriously. There are over 300 individual band links, vegan recipes, short movies, diary entries, and so much more. But there is also really random stuff. Like this video that Kevin made when he was twelve with a bunch of friends of his, ATTACK OF THE MUSHROOM HEADED ZOMBIES FROM MARS! It's super good (Well, we keep telling Kevin that so he doesn't get upset).