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zine review:


Ink-a-licious is painful. It’s like a colouring book written by an angry 16-year-old still learning how to draw. Or, more accurately, it’s almost as if some random press decided to hire a group of teens and have each of them make an individual page about what irks them the most about the world. Granted, the observations, for the most part, are true. It’s just that they’re so poorly presented that it’s hard to muster up the urge to care. The content is so badly written that, when partnered with the sloppy artwork, most of the time it had me rolling my eyes and thinking “oh, who cares?”

The tone of the entire zine makes me think that the author is a bitter, cranky man who is just using his zine as an excuse to bitch and moan and vent about how life has done him wrong. Normally, if it was done creatively, it would make for a good read, but in this case, it’s done horrifically. Do yourself a favour and skip it. (Tara Blackmore)

Artzine, Kevin McBride,

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