RIP Paul

Has it really been over three years since my Paul passed away?

Happy Fishmas!

Perverts! I miss you! I'm still watching movies and drinking and fucking shit up like I always do! I'm bartending my face off and still teaching school and hanging out as is my custom. I'm getting ready to have my Christmas horror movie marathon and I'm also headed out to Vail, Colorado for a week or so to see if I wanna move there. I don't know how the snow will fare with my six inch platform boots and my glitter and my furry leopard coat, but we'll see. It seems kinda crunchy for my punk rock taste, but whatever.

Life is okay and I'm up to eight cats now. Work continues to be work and movies continue to be movies. I'm looking forward to Cinema Wasteland in April as Bill from Radiation Scarred Reviews has booked a bunch of us a room. I'm stoked on meeting everyone in person and getting back in my blogging groove. Put on your tacky Christmas sweaters, pour some wine, and get those SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT VHS tapes poppin' Love you guys.

Jordan Krall's PENETRALIA

Hey perverts. Question. Or rather questions, plural. How much do you like mad science?How do we all feel about incest? Ever thought about a giraffe riding a bicycle? Plague doctors are pretty cool, no? Ever seen an Andy Milligan film?

If you think about this stuff like I do, and wanna have your mind BLOWN, you should DEFINITELY FUCKING READ JORDAN KRALL'S NEW BOOK, PENETRALIA. I did, and let's just say, I think it's my new favorite thing. APOCALYPSE DONKEY was one thing, and will always hold a special place in my heart forever and ever, but PENETRALIA rocked me like a hurricane.

It's the story of brother and sister Philip and Elizabeth, who have a very intimate relationship, in more ways than one, in that they are carrying on their father's 'work' and also have sex with one another, even though Philip is undoubtedly gay. And while I don't want to give way to too much plot, because I don't like doing that when I talk about Bizzaro, let's just say things get pretty messy, anachronistic, and trippy. All in a good way. All in a GREAT way.

Jordan has this way of just making me love his stuff. It's everything I love about the sleazy cinema, Lovecraft, horror in general, and, I might be wrong, and this is just my take, I got a little Alejandro Jodorowsky off this one. All good stuff.

Read this book. I'm always telling you guys to read more and you don't do it. Why? I'm going to give you all a spanking....

Tentacle Death Trip

I've sung bizarro author Jordan Krall's name in these hallowed halls of perversion before and yes, I'll sing them once again, for I have just finished his latest novel, TENTACLE DEATH TRIP. It might seem a little over the top, but yeah, I'm wearing the t-shirt of the cover art while I write this. Hey, when I like something, I REALLY like something. Hence the copious amounts of tattoos and cats. Anyway...

Do you like DEATH RACE 2000? What about LOVECRAFT? MAD MAX? ACCION MUTANTE? Fast cars, ultra-bitchy women with pink sledgehammers, biomechanical violence from beyond any sort of experience? How about the occult? Sex slaves? Cross-dressing sex slaves? No? Oh well. Your loss. Read on.

TDT is the story of five drivers hired by the mysterious Mr. Silver, the last millionaire in the post-apocolytic world of New Jersey. Samson, the loner hellbent on finding his son after losing him to bikers ten years previous, Gabby, the aforementioned cunt with the pink sledgehammer, Mama Hell, a Christian fat ass in a mini-van who wears a vest of tattooed human flesh, Junko, a former cross-dressing Asian sex slave in a beat-up Honda Civic, and Drac Dunwhich, a strange glass-skulled maniac who drives a sentient tentacled car.

It's a fight to the death as these five take on the apocalyptic landscape of 2025 New Jersey. Tooth tornados, poisonous crabs, cannibal zealots, the evil Lord Bing Bong, marauders, nuclear mutants, and all sorts of other atrocities, leading them all to the city of R'lyeh. Truly terrifying, but somehow captivatingly beautiful in its horror.

The weirdos and madmen that populate the Wasteland account for most of the entertainment here. The plot is very simple - a race to the death, winner gets all the food and gasoline he or she wants, plus a nice place to live without chaos. The novel, however, is very character driven, and it's in our specific getting to know each of the characters and what drives them is what makes this the most fun. I guess you could say that about most any character driven work, but here, it's very true. The characters are damaged, fucked up, insane, and have had to endure atrocities unlike any worst nightmare. Why not race to the death for one last chance at salvation (of sorts)?

I've probably said this before after reading each new Krall release, but it warrants repeating - I think Krall is at his absolute finest here. He's written a very tight and entertaining novel populating it with all the things I love about weird movies, Lovecraft, religious satire, and ultra-violence, amongst many other things too copious to mention. The homage is a the ultimate compliment and here it is has become the ultimate art form. Whether he's trying to gross you out or trying to get you to think, he's on point here. I've never come across an author with such similar sensibilities to my own. It's like, how do you get inside my head and make all this great writing come out in this way? I know I haven't really done it justice here, but I'm humbled by it nonetheless.

Read this novel.

Hood Rat

Ok, so HOOD RAT (2002) only gets a star and a half on Netflix and it is terribly, excruciatingly difficult to get through. It's disjointed, cheap, makes no sense, and is terribly cliche and bordering on offensive, but that isn't to say it wasn't fun, fun, fun. While billed as a killer rat movie, HOOD RAT is a more character driven narrative about the residents of the Forest Tower projects in Atlanta. There's Max (Isaiah Washington), the homeless can collector turned pied piper (we'll get to that in second), Max's wheelchair-bound alcoholic brother, Courtney, building 'manager' and hustler pimp wannabe, Grady (played by a scenery chewing Ice T), Max's love interest, Nina, Nina's piece of shit boyfriend, an old couple ('we've lived in this building thirty-five years!'), a crazy one-eyed ex-solidier named Satan, and some various other assorted stereotypes and such populating this ghetto. In the opening scene, a crack smoking exterminator who carries his chemicals and whatnot in a Crown Royal bag tied to his waste, a charming little detail to be sure, is completely devoured by a million CGI rats. The whole thing takes place in a warehouse nee banquet hall and once said exterminator is eaten, the cops haven't the slightest clue as to what happened. And this being the ghetto and everyone smoking crack, the police aren't too inclined to believe any killer rat stories, anyway. Although the opening is hilariously over-the-top in trying to be as ghetto as possible ('who let the rats out?'is said at least twice), it doesn't set the tone for what's to come. What follows are some depressing scenes that take place every day in the projects - hustling for drugs, crack smoking, domestic violence, and the overall squalor of the conditions in which hundreds of people spend their daily lives. The movie is cheap, but these scenes are surprisingly effective. Max and Courtney elicit sympathy in their portrayal of the two brothers and the rest of the cast does a decent job, although I don't think many of the roles call for that much range. Still, it helps lend a decent bit of credibility. After the setup, we meet slumlord Bernard, a Haitian-born capitalist who is sentenced by a judge to spend a month in Forest Tower so he can see how he allows his tenants to live. Bernard is a complete piece of shit, walking around with his cane and assistant carrying an umbrella as to not soil his tidy dreadlocks and expensive suit. He's pretty pissed the judge sent him to live here, but he's going to make the best of it by inhabiting the best apartment and installing up to the minute security around the building. That's when the rats start showing up. You know. Those fuckers from the epic opening sequence. For real this time. Time to see everything through rat-o-vision. After a series of events (they are all literally that boring and none of them good), Max frees a rat from a trap in an alley. He names the rat Tara and they become bonded. And by bonded, I mean he can now completely understand Tara and have her do his bidding. And by bidding I mean he can command all the rats in all the projects to kill those that deserve it at his discretion and in semi-creative ways. There's a magic stick involved and some maybe voodoo turn of events, but I might have made up the voodoo part because there IS NO OTHER WAY TO EXPLAIN ANY OF THIS. As you can probably imagine, everyone that deserves comeuppance gets it (Grady, Bernard, Nina's BF, etc.) and we actually do sort of cheer Max on. He's clearly in his element, holding the rat, petting her fur, being all menacing and vindictive and shit. It's when the rats kill pretty Nina that Max goes completely off the fucking deep-end, a far cry from his calm and cool demeanor when he was in command of Tara and company. The whole thing ends in a big fiery mess, flames and shit and dead rats everywhere. There's even a hint at a sequel, although it's very very far-fetched. I think there might even be a HOOD RAT 2, but I don't care right now. Let's recap. There's Ice T, rats that can do a homeless man's bidding, a drunk in a wheelchair, a guy that gets killed on the toilet when the rats come up through the sewer (sorry, didn't mention that one before), plenty o'crack smoking, a Haitian slumlord, rat-o-vision, stock footage, a tweaking exterminator with a Crown bag, and Ice T. I know I mentioned that several times, but seriously, he's like a ramped up version of every character he's ever been typecast as. It's hilarious. It ain't no fucking Citizen Kane, but I don't really want Citizen Kane when I get off work at two in the morning, ya know?

Double Agent 73

There's much to love about Doris Wishman's sleazy parody of the spy film. So let's just get right to it, shall we?

1. The overly busty Chesty Morgan plays special agent Jane Renee. She's basically a ramped up fetishist's dream. Her tits are GI-normous, she has a relatively attractive face, although she does kinda look like a day-shift, about to be past her prime, stripper. Luckily, I love almost past their prime day shift strippers.

2. She can take pictures with her boobs via an implanted camera. She also uses them as weapons, in slow motion, no doubt.

3. Her shoes are fantastic! Platforms and towering heels. I also love the lingering shots of them. (This is sort of a Wishman signature - as I've seen the lingering feet shot in several of her films.)

4. The line 'you'll never get away with this!' Easily one of my favorite lines to hear in anything.

5. An anonymous heroin ring, fronted by a guy with a HUGE birthmark on his face and fake Russian accent! Anonymous!

6. Exploding lipstick.

7. Mad-cap car chases.

8. An overall blatant disrespect of the law.

9. Leopard wall paper and zebra sheets! Was this filmed in my house?

10. Death by earring, phone cord, and ice cube choking (three different deaths).

11. A pretty violent shower stabbing.

12. Plenty of mustachioed, Jess Franco-lookalike villains.

13. And her tits are also poisonous.

If you are uninitiated to Wishman yet, this might be a hilarious way to get you going. Literally.

RIP Divine

Today marks the passing of the greatest entertainer in the history of the world (and I'm really not being dramatic either), Glenn Harris Milstead, the mighty Divine! It's been 24 years since Divy suffered a heart attack before he was supposed to make his mainstream television debut on MARRIED WITH CHILDREN. The story goes that after he died (in his hotel room where he was waiting to go show), the producers sent a bouquet to his funeral with a card that read, 'If you didn't want to be on the show, you could have just told us.' I think he would have liked that. Long live DIVINE!!!!!!

Now go watch FEMALE TROUBLE. It's my favorite.

RIP Lina Romay

The sexploitation film world will never be the same. May you go on to make countless more women-in-prison and lesbian vampire movies in heaven.

Hello, perverts! How the fuck are you? Me, I'm wonderful. Just got back from Chicago after seeing Motorhead and Megadeth and my wonderful girlfriends from grad school. It was epic and cold and drunken and amazing and I wish I never had to come back. Except that the snow is not for me. Can't stand it. I like it cold, but not that cold. I just don't look as cute under twenty million layers of clothes.

I've been watching and reading all kinds of crap and non-crap. It has all been making me pretty happy. I read Adam Blomquist's novel, TRIBESMEN, and loved that shit exponentially. If you love Umberto Lenzi's cannibal movies, you will love the hell out of this. Murder and mayhem and cannibalism and hot chicks (use your imagination, as it is a novel), and blood and all sorts of horror in-stuff, you'll fucking love it.

Bizzaro fiction is the shit and I've recently read Andersen Prunty's HI, I'M A SOCIAL DISEASE, which aside from having an amazing cover, is a great fucking collection. I'm also mid-way through D. Harlan Wilson's THEY HAD GOAT HEADS, which is freaking me out because it's so on point and in tune with everything that I deem awesome, so word.

Movie-wise, just as good, non-good. TUCKER AND DALE VS. EVIL was charming, my second viewing of FRANKENFISH was everything I hoped for, and I'm patiently awaiting the arrival of HUMAN CENTIPEDE 2.

I changed all the cats' names to Todd and I need more wine. I love you all, you perverted fuckers. Look for my reviews of some Jean Rollin and some stupid SyFy stuff coming up in the next couple of days.

Contest!

I will give you two amazing shirts from T-Shirt Bordello if you can tell me at least TEN books you read in 2011. I want you fuckers to read more and if you don't believe me, I have suggestions! I will send you books! Don't have kindle? Download that shit on your phone. I read over 212 books last year and this is by no where near a record or anything and I'm not bragging. I read two books today. So tell me what you've been reading. Win horror t-shirts. At my complete discretion. Go here....http://eraserheadpress.com/ you like weird shit. Or hit me up. I have copies. Yee!

Bat Boy Lives!

In tattoo form. On my foot. My foot is now one hundred percent more badass that it was this morning. Although this was really, really hard to get done and I'm not feeling so hot right now. It's worth it.

Let The Fake Friend In

I have joined the facebook universe. Be my friend. I talk about movies and books sometimes. Be my friend. Oh god, please be friends with me for the love of god oh god im going to put some red lipstick on and then put a pantyhose over my head if you don't be my fucking friend on book face. AHHHHHHHH

T-Shirt Bordello

The very gracious Don (of the dead) over at T-Shirt Bordello sent me some shirts! What a sweetie! I think you guys will dig his stuff, lots of snarky plays on our favorite horror movies, Lovecraft, zombies, and other nerd-ery. And the shirts look fucking awesome - nice screen prints, cool color, and very professional-looking. Check me out in the HOMICIDER, their take on my favorite masked psycho.




I love how they blend slasher with drinking. Could that get any more perfect?

Secondly, here I am in their Cthulhu shirt. I love how this one could almost be the shirt for a metal band. But it's still awesome sans band logo. And this is my very first Lovecraft shirt. Excellent (rubbing hands together ala Mr. Burns)!



These will definitely make it into my regular t-shirt rotation as soon as I cut the necks out. (I do that with all my shirts. I prefer that off-the-shoulder look.)

So go check out T-Shirt Bordello right now! Tell them I sent ya! And I haven't done a contest in awhile. Hmmm....

Happy New Year, Assholes!

So I went to work tonight and it was slow as HELL because we didn't do any kind of New Year's thing, which was fine by me, but also very boring. I got off early-ish and proceeded to drink up all the champagne in the bar, as well as most of the Absolut Ruby Red. We toasted that stupid shit (New Year's Eve = Amateur Night) and then scootered home to drink some wine (also pilfered from my bar) and post this crap. Happy 2012, perverts! May your whole fucking year be filled with lots of horror movies, both good and bad and bad in a good way, plenty of cats, and tattoos. Oh, I'm going to get so many tattoos in 2012. Just y'all wait. Just y'all wait. And take a cab. No DUI's, okay?