Unholy: A Lovable Mess

This has got to be one of the crappiest movies I’ve ever enjoyed. It looks like it was shot on discount videotape. The production values are nonexistent. Some of the supporting cast seem as if they’ve not only never acted before, but may not even know what acting is. A lot of the dialogue is downright stupid and I’m guessing that this bunch had roughly three days of rehearsal time before the film was shot.

Unholy looks so shitty, in fact, that it appears to be more of a proposal for a movie than a final product. Yet, it’s good. Somehow. It has Nazis and witches and time travel and invisibility and mind control and sunflowers and tomatoes and it’s really pretty fucking creepy. Speaking of creepy, I’d still like to do Adrienne Barbeau.

I’m guessing this flick went directly to video and I doubt it’ll be seen much outside of cyberspace and then some big studio will by the rights to it, do a proper remake and this version will all but disappear. See it while you can especially if you’re a fan of extremely low-budget, off-the-wall movies like I am.

Published in: on October 22, 2007 at 2:30 pm Leave a Comment

Fuck you and the fauxhawk you rode in on.

Fauxhawks? FAUXHAWKS?

Listen, I’ve never been a punk. I’m a boring, forty-year-old fat* man, but by GOD, if I want a Mohawk, I’ll cut myself one.

KIDS: Either get some balls or COMB YOUR FUCKING HAIR!

You look like idiots and I don’t think that’s what you’re going for.

*I’m gonna start running tomorrow morning though. I promise.

Published in: on October 17, 2007 at 11:26 pm Comments (2)

One damned good fucking reason to love Gordon Ramsay:

He cusses like a cunt-plucking mother-fucker.

Editaddendumps: As I’ve said before, I’m no chef. I’m just a cook and that came about sort of by default because it was the life I was reared in and the life I returned to after failing miserably to live any other way. However, I do love food. (Which reminds me, I need to start jogging.) I love making good food and thereby making someone else’s day a little bit better by way of a good meal. A good meal is a big part of a good day and if you rack up enough good days, you’re on your way to a pretty good life. Ramsay and other chefs do things I’m simply not capable of and I love watching them do it. I love watching people who love food doing what they love to do and I love watching people being delighted by what those other people have done. This is all to say that since watching the American version of Kitchen Nightmares and then going back to watch the original BBC version as well, I am now forced to add Gordon Ramsay to my roster of male crushes.

I’m straight as any other straight man (which means I have my ambiguities as we all do though most men aren’t willing to amit it), but I do have a few male heart-throbs and here’s a partial list:

Gordon Ramsay (see above)
Gene Kelly
Johnny Depp
James Remar
George Clooney
Pope Benedict XVI
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
K.D. Lang

Now, I’m not saying I’d actually have sex with any of these guys (with the very possible exception of Johnny Depp and maybe Gene Kelly if he were still alive), but I like watching them. I admire them. I respect their talents and, most importantly I’ve now forgotten the point I was hoping to make.

One more episode of Kitchen Nightmares, I promise, just one more and then I’m off to clean my goddamned deep-fryers and make a ton of ravioli and gnocchii.

Amen.

And by the way, I’ve already fucked the Pope. Right in his old, wrinkled, unholy ass.

Published in: on at 11:54 am Leave a Comment

Windows Auto-Fuckdate

Something just ain’t right when Windows security updates totally fuck up your damned machine. My computer has been buggy as hell for the last five days and after trying everything else I could think of, I checked my Add/Remove Programs thingamabob for recent updates and sure enough five days ago I got two and sure enough once I removed them — which was like pulling teeth — everything started running fine. So I’ve been forced to choose between a secure computer and a computer that actually works.

Thanks, Bill.

I’ll be looking into Macs and Linux or whatever the hell else is out there for my next computer.

Published in: on October 16, 2007 at 10:08 am Leave a Comment

Josh Olson on Internet Romance and Internet Madness

I can’t say I agree with some of the conclusions Josh Olson draws regarding online relationships in this excellent memoir/essay, but I can’t say I disagree with them either. I can say it’s a great, gripping read so go clicky-clicky below:

The Life and Death of Jesse James

Published in: on October 15, 2007 at 7:14 pm Leave a Comment

Sarah Silverman is a Television Pioneer

If you haven’t seen the latest episode of The Sarah Silverman Program: YOU MUST WATCH IT NOW! I won’t tell you what it’s about because I hate to spoil such things for you. I’ll just say that I’m pretty sure it’s the first episode of any television series I’m aware of to deal with this subject.

God, I want to fuck Sarah Silverman. I want to fuck her brains out then pick her brains up and lick them, maybe even nibble on them a bit, then put her brains back in her skull and fuck them out all over again. Repeatedly.

 

I love smart, funny women.

 

Unfortunately they all seem to be on to me.

Published in: on October 11, 2007 at 10:22 am Leave a Comment

just a smidgen of Icke

From David Icke’s The Biggest Secret:

“The more I weave together incredible amounts of information, the more it seems to
me that we are talking of two distinct situations running side by side. There were other extraterrestrial races at large on the Earth, and still are, as well as the extraterrestrial race which the Sumerians called the Anunnaki and other ancient texts called the Serpent Race.”

And the more I weave together information about David Icke, the more convinced I become that he wants to be the next L. Ron Hubbard. Icke initially claimed, many years ago, that he was the returned Jesus Christ, but I suppose he must have thought about how Jesus ended up: Scourged, crucified and penniless; and so chose a new role model.

The whole reptilian aspect of Icke’s delusion/scam might lead one to think that it’s all too absurd for too many people to get taken in, but a quick glance at the history of the world’s religions will tell you that this may not be the case. The bigger the lie, the harder they fall.

I’m afraid we have the beginnings here of a political/religious cult. One more reason to fight theocracy wherever it rears its serpentine head.

Published in: on at 8:28 am Leave a Comment

Just a link to the Wog Blog

Published in: on October 10, 2007 at 11:33 pm Leave a Comment

The Boy Who Proclaimed the Presence of Angels

(I originally posted this  over here a few years ago. It’s one of several stories I’ve written that started out as fairy tales, in which the fairies never quite made it to the party.)

There never was a boy who proclaimed the presence of angels. This boy that never was and never possibly could ever be again lived in a woodland village with his mother who too often fell in love and a stepfather who had a wicked habit of marrying women who too often fell in love so that he could not love them every day and any child they might have as well did he take wicked pleasure in not loving.

One day, the stepfather sent the boy to the woods to fetch wood for fire and rabbits to roast. The stepfather was clever with snares and traps. His traps and snares were everywhere throughout and all over the woods. When the boy came upon the first of the snares, he saw a nice, fat rabbit struggling to free itself. He pulled out his cudgel to brain the rabbit, but the rabbit spoke, “Free me and you will be rewarded.” So surprised was the boy to hear a rabbit speak, that he released it immediately. The rabbit ran swiftly into the brush. The boy was sad as the rabbit had not rewarded him, but he knew there would be many more to fetch home. And indeed, in each trap and every snare  was a nice, fat rabbit struggling for freedom. The wonder of having encountered a talking rabbit, however, had so impressed the boy that he could not bring himself to brain them, so he  set them all free instead, though none of these rabbits spoke and the one who had spoken had lied to him. The boy gathered wood and wild onions and headed home wondering how he would avoid being beaten from head to toe.

When the boy arrived home, his stepfather said, “I see you have fetched wood as I ordered, but where are the rabbits from my traps and snares?”

The boy knew that his stepfather would not believe the truth of a talking rabbit, so he lied: “An angel appeared at each trap and every snare and forced me at the point of a flaming sword to free each and every rabbit.” His stepfather immediately beat him from head to toe and threw him into the coldest corner of the house. That night, the boy was not allowed near the fire nor was he allowed to eat any of the wild onions he had brought back instead of rabbits. He spent the long, cold night crying softly and calling for his mother, but his mother was too frightened to help him, though she believed his lie of the angel as the boy knew well by the look in her eye.

The next day, the boy went into the center of the village and proclaimed to all the people there that his stepfather was a witch and drank ale with the Devil every night.  He told them that when his stepfather attempted to force him to drink ale with the Devil as well that seven angels descended from Heaven to protect him, but told him that unless he publicly proclaimed their presence and the wicked sins of his stepfather, that he would go to Hell. Further, they told him that if the village folk did not punish the witch, that the entire village would go to Hell and the Devil would stuff them full of flaming wild onions and demon rabbits would gnaw at their ankles for eternity.

The village folk immediately went to the boy’s home and dragged his stepfather into the street where they burned him alive after cutting off all his hair so that he would not die too quickly. The boy’s mother stood by weeping and wailing and clutching her son to her breast. The boy remembered how desperately he had wanted her to hold him on the long, cold night before and loudly shouted, “My mother is also a witch! The Devil sticks carrots up her arse and she smiles and kisses his knees!” So the mother received the same punishment as the stepfather, except that a thorny thistle branch was stuck up her arse before she was set aflame.

Several other villagers were burned that day. The boy was never sure why. He was, thereafter, never very happy, but he was glad his stepfather had died terribly. He drank a great deal of ale when he thought of his mother.  He never saw another talking rabbit. He never saw any angels at all, though on occasion  he would lie and say that he had. He never married, but became quite clever with traps and snares and took great pleasure in the agony of the rabbits he captured.

Published in: on at 12:03 pm Comments (2)

one more p.s. just one more i promise

Published in: on at 11:52 am Leave a Comment