Entries from November 2013 ↓

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.


Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

Blood Countess 1 of 2

Nighfall-Blood Countess 1of2  oldtimeradiodvd.com

Blood Countess 1 of 2

Nighfall-Blood Countess 1of2  oldtimeradiodvd.com

Blood Countess 1 of 2

Nighfall-Blood Countess 1of2  oldtimeradiodvd.com

Blood Countess 1 of 2

Nighfall-Blood Countess 1of2  oldtimeradiodvd.com

Blood Countess 1 of 2

Nighfall-Blood Countess 1of2  oldtimeradiodvd.com

Blood Countess 1 of 2

Nighfall-Blood Countess 1of2  oldtimeradiodvd.com