Hustleblood by Casey Michael Henry Jimmy was a hustler unsure of what the new element would entail. The site was already such a labyrinthine construction; it was almost impossible to tell even at this point who was client, patron, provider, etc. It all got lost in some mass-orgy approximation of pixels. Complaints would inevitably arise that one wasn’t absolutely sure of what ‘the goods’ even looked like: slices of pig’s flesh, melted crayons, images that looked more like sand sculptures […]