Entries Tagged 'me me me' ↓

So, Space Girls is my new thing. Check out the website. The entire affair is completely ridiculous. The second episode will be better than the first, I swear.

I mean the kind of comics nerds who are so nerdy that they order things out of Previews: yeah, you...the hardcore. A book I inked approximately 43 years ago (finished on the eve of my 21st birthday!), Vincent Price Presents: Dead Air, is finally solicited for a June release. Yay!

Now, I know that those of you who don't pre-order, those who simply buy books off the shelf will surely remember this come June, so I won't need to ever mention it again.


YOU: Stacie! Why isn't your name listed on the cover or in the solicitation or on the publisher's page? Are you lying about your involvement with this book?

ME: No, I'm not lying. It's just that inkers are scum, and they deserve no respect. I expect my name was listed grudgingly inside the book, if only to avoid the legal ramifications of leaving me out of it. And yes, I by 'legal ramifications' I mean 'an appearance on People's Court with Judge Marilyn Milian.'

YOU: Okay, if that's what you mean, then I hope your name is NOT listed inside.

ME: Me too.

YOU: Hey, how come that picture of the cover you posted up there says it's issue #18, but the publisher's website says it's issue #19? Is this an April Fools' "joke"?

ME: The only joke here is this one: a bishop and his curate are breakfasting together and the bishop says: 'I'm afraid you've got a bad egg, Mr Jones.' To which the curate replies, 'Oh, no, my Lord, I assure you that parts of it are excellent!'

YOU: That's not funny.

ME: It's from 1871!

YOU: Oh, well then. I stand corrected.

On things and the having of things, I am torn. I'm not materialistic and I try not to buy things I don't need or things that are not useful. I have a fuck ton of movies, but my excuse is that I write about movies. Still, I'm a trader-inner of video games, movies, and books as I'd rather have a few that I love rather than a bunch I never touch. But! I have some horror-related things around that I truly adore- things that may be replaceable, but I'd be a bit devastated if they disappeared from my life. I'm a little bit ashamed of feeling that way about stuff, but then again perhaps it's okay to enjoy things. Oh, how the battle rages within my soul! Anyway. Here are the horror-related things I love most in this workaday world, because I feel like making a list and being self-indulgent. Hooray!


This thing is so ridiculous, but his beefy lips and Chiclet teeth make my day every time I see them. Given to me by a friend who would not (or could not) divulge where he got it.


I saved up my pennies to nab a copy of this limited-edition hardcover (1000 copies)! The amazing Gene Colan took sketch requests for about 50 people, and I was one. The gorgeous Dracula above is inside the cover. Da-rool.


Met her at a signing for her autobiography There Are Worse Things I Could Do and she was so damn nice. It's a totally goofy picture and we had fun taking it- two people holding a giant Polaroid camera always makes for a lovely time. And yes, my face really is that yellow.


Aside from the pure delight at sitting in a hotel room talking with Marilyn fucking Burns, this interview was a personal milestone in a few ways: first, I'm fairly sure this was the first face-to-face interview I'd done with anyone (save the one with my gramma for my 7th grade Social Studies class). Second, though it originally appeared in a Q & A format on Pretty/Scary, a revamped, rewritten, and longer version of the interview was published in Sirens of Cinema magazine, marking my first foray into the magical world of "print". I tape over interviews after I've transcribed them, but this one I'll keep. And yes, I use cassettes. I love showing up at roundtables and plunking down my big-ass Radio Shack tape recorder amidst the micro-sized, fancy mp3 recorders the kids use today.


I talked about this puppy way back when I first started talking about the awesomeness of 1981. I've got a bunch of genre mags around, new and old, but Fango #10 kind of sums up my childhood relationship with horror. Gross pictures, cartoons, Hammer movies, slasher movies, Count Fango...I tells ya, it's magic with staples running down the spine.


...signed by Margot Kidder. At conventions (and, I suppose, elsewhere) autographs are fairly pricy. Because I am not rich, I tend to be both picky AND choosy about the ones I get. Way back before the remake was even a fart in the brain of whoever farted up that fart of a remake and Black Christmas was still kind of on the down-low, I handed her my DVD amidst all the Superman fans handing her pictures of Lois Lane to sign, and she was surprised anyone even remembered the movie. Say what? Black Christmas is the shit. I'd actually like to get it signed by the rest of the cast members, even Mrs. MacHenry, even though Marian Waldman is dead.


...signed by Linda Blair. Again, yes I'll pay- it's Linda GD Blair! But what I love most about it is...well, look what I made her write. She's aces in my book. Of course, she always was, so I guess she's...more aces now.


Because my mom is the raddest, she buys me retarded horror stuff, like this horror village. You know, it's like one of those Christmas villages, but this time it's (you guessed it) horror. There's Nancy's Elm Street house, Stately Leatherface Manor, the Dawn of the Dead mall...all kinds of cool stuff with little mini Jasons and Michaels and Leatherfaces and Hari Krishna zombies. We have them all lined up next to each other on a shelf so it looks like Freddy and Jason are neighbors. It's awesome and I love it.


I've talked about this, too- a VHS copy of a mediocre (with a few fucking GREAT scenes) out-of-print slasher movie is one thing. A VHS copy of a mediocre (with a few fucking GREAT scenes) out-of-print slasher movie that you bought at Tori Spelling's yard sale is quite another. I'm still not sure that all really happened.


It took me a few years to assemble a complete run of Marvel's Tomb of Dracula, but dammit I did it in true comic nerd style, scrounging through boxes at shops and cons. A few issues are in stellar condition, a few are in crappy condition, but I don't care. It's the first complete run of anything I've ever collected (beyond, you know, a 10-issue run or whatevs), and it'll likely be the last. Meeting writer Marv Wolfman and artist Gene Colan and asking them to sign my copy of #69, the first comic I ever bought, was a thrill.

Well, there you go. I like some stuff I have...so sue me. Or tell me about things you have that you treasure so I don't feel so lame.

True (and possibly gross) story: A long time ago in a galaxy...well, in this galaxy, I lived with someone. One fine evening this so-called Co-Habi-Tron 2000 got a stomach bug and barfed. Barfed on the way to the bathroom. Now, I've not had a stomach bug since 1st grade and I've never had food poisoning. I'm not a vomiter, unless...yes, there have been some alcohol-related times but what can you do? I live on the edge, and I always fight for my right to party.

Ahem.

Anyway, this sudden display of not being in control of one's body completely freaked me out. It broke my brain. Really. I became paranoid about catching the stomach bug. I spent the next 2 weeks fixated on perceived feelings of nausea: "Am I gonna throw up? Am I gonna...yes, I think...ohh...I'm...eh, never mind." I never got that bit of flu (awesome) and I never barfed, but no matter: as I said...brain broken. I got paranoid about eating in restaurants for fear of food poisoning. As everyone else in the world has had it at one time or another, I grilled everybody: What's it like? How did you know you had it? How long did you have it? Where did you eat? Whenever someone at work said he had the "flu", I had to ask if it was a cold or a puke thing. I couldn't watch anyone barfing in movies or shows or what have you.

I don't know why it happened or why it continued so long. It was ridiculous. Then all of a sudden I was better. Brains are funny that way, I guess.

Another true (less gross, more juvenile) story: There is an office building along the highway near my hometown that has windows on one side laid out like this:


To me, this place has become known as The Tit Building. Generally people don't know what building I'm talking about when I mention it as a point of reference...but I cannot unsee the word "TIT" spelled out in its windows. It baffles me that it got past the blueprint stage.

I tell you these two anecdotes not simply because my life is so incredibly fascinating...no! I tell you because both anecdotes came to mind while I was watching Uzumaki (2000), the tale of a small Japanese town that falls under the curse of the vortex.

It all starts innocently enough. People "act a bit funny". A man spends several hours quietly videotaping the swirl of a snail's shell. Soon enough, however, many of the citizens of Kurouzu are completely obsessed with the vortex pattern- like, obsessed to the point that they begin to harm themselves in some incredibly grotesque ways. Everywhere they look, they see the spirals. Their brains are broken by the curse, and the only hope, it seems, is to remove all signs of the spiral from their environment. That sounds easy enough, but ask yourself this: is a life without Pecan Spins a life worth living?

Uzumaki starts out as a bit of a kooky fairy tale; the music is exceedingly incongruous with the action, and it almost plays as a horror-comedy. By the time the words "There is still a spiral in your ear..." are spoken, however, it crosses over into the land of dread and mindfuckery. In a word, it's creepy.

None of it is really explained, so you're going to be left with questions in the end, like: Why is the town cursed, exactly? And...how do people turn into giant snails...? But this is an imaginative, bizarre just take the ride kind of horror film, and as such it's both unsettling and entertaining. The idea that thoughts can become obsessive to the point where they lead you to break as many of your own bones as possible- and you think it's a capital plan- is truly terrifying. I'm glad I got over my weird puke obsession when I did.

Yes yes, I'm sure Junji Ito's manga that provides the basis for this film is better than the film itself. I've never read it, although I know I should. And I will, one of these days. You don't need to remind me, Bossy!

Film Club Coolies, y'all!
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Parry Game Preserve
firthofforth
In One Ear...
Sinema Obscura
The Horror Section
Va's The Cinema Experience
The United Provinces of Ivanlandia
Pussy Goes Grrr

...from the ME Files. I guess I got 3rd place or something in Bloody-Disgusting's Blog Award thing, so I wanted to say thanks to everyone who voted. That is all.

FINE! Jesus.

Friends, enemies, and people who are just sort of hanging around: guess what? Final Girl was nominated for a "Best Blog" Rondo Award! This link (will take you to the massive ballot where you can get your vote on...it's truly an honor to be nominated again this year. Congrats to all the nominees!

Wow. So very harsh. Always so very harsh. I mean, my mom might care! It's not as if I'm going to go on and on about it, I just thought I'd throw it out there and acknowledge the fact that I was nominated because the Rondos are pretty fucking cool. That's all!

In other Are You Sick of Me Yet, Because I Am news, there's an interview with moi running today over at Fatally Yours as part of Sarah Jahier's month-long series honoring women in horror for...umm...Women in Horror Month. I have a vagina and a horror blog, so I qualify. READ! my thoughts on gender in horror! MARVEL! at the ways I feel torn on the issues! SEE! Charles Nelson Reilly continue to keep it real! THANKS! to Sarah for including me!

If you are anywhere near Athens, Georgia this weekend, then perhaps you should consider checking out the Women in Horror Film Festival. Andrew Shearer of the mighty Gonzoriffic is hosting a night of horror shorts by womenfolk as his contribution to WiH Month, which is pretty damn cool of him. I've seen many of the movies that will be screening, and they're pretty fucking rad. Also included will be my very own Taste of Flesh, Taste of Fear...and Lip Stick, which I co-directed with Shannon Lark. I really wish I could be there for a night of horror movies and, like, communing and stuff. I haven't even seen Lip Stick yet, so if any of you go, let me know how it is, will ya?

Don't let that title scare you: I'm not going to talk about Bad Girls Club the reality show...although I could. I could because I watch it, which is something I'm perhaps a little bit ashamed of, but on the other hand I don't care. The show, which throws seven generally horrible women in a house together for...well, I guess no good reason, really, is pretty much a display of womanhood (or perhaps humanity) at its worst. It's also a prime example of the poor state of television today, how creative, thought-provoking shows are tossed by the wayside to make way for "real life" programs where people act like jerks.

Then again, Bad Girls Club is thought-provoking in a Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom sort of way. I watch and I wonder what I would do if I were suddenly thrust into their den of debauchery. They'd all put on their...things that can't possibly qualify as dresses and go out to get tanked for the 14th night in a row, while I'd decline to stay home and watch Cathy's Curse, followed up by a few hours of playing Dragon Age (hurr hurr I'm an elf mage!), followed up by an issue or two of old Uncanny X-Men. They'd yell at me and threaten to beat me up, and I'd remind them that I'm old and I'm a nerd, and then I'd cry. I can't relate to these women on any level whatsoever, and thus Bad Girls Club is one of the 4 or 5 shows I watch. Judge me if you will!

Holy crap, I said I wasn't going to talk about the reality show, and then I totally did. I lied! Gasssssp, maybe I am a Bad Girl after all!

What I really meant to talk about, though, is this week's column at AMC by moi truly, wherein I offer up a list of ten of my favorite She-Creatures and Bad Girls and Villainessesssess of Horror. I tried to think a little bit outside the box and throw some different names around, but not TOO outside the box because that's scary. Enjoy!

Dudes, dudettes, and others:

The Film Club post on Black Sabbath is coming, but not until later! I was totally out of commission yesterday because for some reason, technology has been doing nothing but pooping on my neck since I got back from vacation. In a space of ten days, my internet has gone out for days; my computer crashed hard enough to require actual, you know, fixing; my fucking Xbox fucking DIED DIED FUCKING DIED TWO DAYS BEFORE MASS EFFECT 2 WAS RELEASED (as you can see, I feel strongly about that); and AT & T has totally screwed up the big switch from DSL to Fiber Optic Whatever Whatever here at Casa de Final Girl and CoHabiTron 3000, leaving us without phone, internet, or TV for going on two days now. I'm writing this on World's First Laptop (now: featuring a battery that lasts 15 minutes!), which means the FGFC post will have to wait until my home internet issues are resolved- which should happen ANY MINUTE NOW or...well, I'd say "or else!" but I'm unsure what the repercussions would actually entail.

Why technology has suddenly turned on me, I have no idea. Word of warning, though: if it continues, I may become some sort of neo-Luddite. Don't worry, this doesn't mean I'll stop writing Final Girl! It just means I'll have to write it all out on paper and we'll have to mail entries to one another like a chain letter. Sure, the last person on the list may not read a post until 27 months after I've written it, but it's better than nothing (maybe). Don't blame me, blame...TECHNOLOGY. Or AT & T.

Every once in a while, a wave of camaraderie washes over the blogging community. Someone creates an "award" to give to some peers; a stipulation of accepting the award is that the winner, in turn, must award more blogs, and so on. Essentially, these awards are memes- and yet, the intentions are great it's awfully nice to receive one. It's gratifying when a peer acknowledges your work, to get a "Hey, I read your stuff and I like it". There are several of these awards currently making the blog circuit, and some people have mentioned Final Girl whilst fulfilling their probation award requirements.

I am truly grateful for the shout-outs from Jon and Corey at Evil on Two Legs, Holger at Hammer and Beyond, Dennis at Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule, Jason at Invasion of the B Movies, and Evil Dead Junkie at Things That Don't Suck. You are all kings among bloggers!

Because you did not ask: the model on the "Fantastically Frightening" badge is my friend Melissa Bacelar, who (when she's not posing topless with fake monster hands on The Girls or appearing in B-grade horror movies) does so much good work for homeless dogs in the Los Angeles area by rescuing them, fostering them, and finding homes for them. She's a friend to animals and people who like boobs everywhere.

As I've sort of mentioned, being named as an awardee in internet memes comes at high cost; to accept, one must (among other things) list seven interesting things about oneself. I did the very same once upon a time, which means that I must now think of other interesting things about myself. While "interesting" is in the eye of the beholder...hurm. I doubt any of these qualify, but here goes. On an unrelated side note, this is not me, but I kind of wish it were:

1) Throughout my many years, I have studied French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, and Russian languages. Foreign languages come rather easily to me for whatever reason, and for a time waayyyyy back when I thought I'd somehow incorporate one or more than one of them into some kind of career. What, exactly, I have no clue. I haven't used any of them in any real capacity in forever. However, I was at a bar not-too-recently and somebody introduced me to somebody who happened to be Russian, and then promptly walked away. Flummoxed, I thought this was the perfect time to bust out a few key phrases that I remembered: "I love to speak Russian!" "Grandmother is walking in the park!" "I work in a factory!" "I love to play chess!" This broad was not amused! She glowered and gave me a "Is that what they teach you in American colleges?"...which leads me to "interesting" fact #2:

2) I am terrible at small talk. Really, really bad. No matter the circumstance, the location, the person to whom I'm speaking...I can't do it. Some people have a true gift for it, but I just don't know what to say. I loathe the Point A-to-B-to-C of meeting new people, and those boring questions that seem mandatory- the "Where are you from?"s and the "What do you do?"s. I'd rather jump to Point M and talk about something intriguing. Those boring questions will be answered in due course, so why start with them?

All that said, it's rare that I meet someone who is compatible with this way of thinking. Generally when I meet someone, I stand there thinking of other things, unsure what to say, wanting to bolt (and sometimes, I do just that). That, or I turn them off completely with my rudimentary language skills.

It's all better when I'm a bit drunk. I find myself to be a charming drunk, although I know this is not, in fact, true.


3) Whenever someone does ask what I "do", I am unsure what to say. What do I do? What is my vocation? When I moved to Los Angeles, I was a comic book inker. Now, I am...a writer, I suppose. While I love it, it was never my intention to become one- before Final Girl, I'd written VERY little, nothing for public consumption beyond a play or two. "Writer" doesn't really feel right and it feels weird to label myself such. Though I make movies, I don't fancy myself a filmmaker. I paint and draw and the such, but I wouldn't call myself an artist. So, when someone asks, I get a kind of blank look and say "I...don't...knooooow...." and then kind of relay that I make stuff and I tell them what I make. Meanwhile, they're most likely only being polite and they're looking for the short answer: "I'm an accountant" or something. Maybe I should figure my shit out and work on that. Or not.

4) I'm obsessed with programs and documentaries and books about prison. I don't know why this is, exactly, but at least partially I look at them as research. Should I ever find myself in jail, I'll need to know how to behave, right? I watch things like Lockdown and Lockup and Locksideways and I imagine myself suddenly tossed in the clink. What's the best course of action? Should I keep quiet? No, they'll think I'm bitchy! Should I act...err, "tough"? No one would ever buy that. Will the women's prison it be as sexy as Heats both Caged and Chained have led me to believe it will be? I'm at a loss as to what I should do, so I keep watching these shows to help me figure it out.


In related news, I love thinking about hypothetical situations. What would I do in a zombie attack? What would I-- wait, I'm running out of "interesting" facts....

5) I love thinking about hypothetical situations, like what would I do in a zombie attack? A friend once told me this was strange, but I disagree. I mean, who will be prepared in the case of a zombie attack? Me, because I've thought about it. I'd say this is like my own personal version of WWJD? - WWID? - but people might take that as me comparing myself to Jesus or something and maybe they'll get mad.

What would I do if people thought I was comparing myself to Jesus and they got mad? See? There's always some hypothetical situation to think about.

6) This may tie into #3, but...I find that I have few, if any, practical skills whatsoever, which makes finding a "job" a daunting prospect. I am not mechanically inclined, I'm no typist, I have little by way of computer skills, etc etc. It makes me want to go get a degree in air conditioner repair or something equally so I'm qualified to do at least one thing. While I wouldn't actually trade this bizarre life of mine, I do, at times, wish I'd set myself on a narrower path early on. You know, "I want to be a lawyer!" so you go to college, intern at a firm, then law school, then you take the L SAT, then you work in a firm, then you retire, then you die. That seems to me much easier than "I don't know what I want to do, "grandmother is walking in the park", I work on a boat, now I'm a dogwalker, now I make comics, I like horror movies, then you die. Not that "easy" and "enjoyable" are necessarily on the same level, of course.

Unless you're talking about your date. Wakka, wakka.

7) Man, this is getting tough. What's interesting about me? I don't know. I get bored while making sandwiches and cutting my fingernails. I haaaaaaaaaaate getting my hair cut (I get bored sitting there and again, I hate small talk) so I do it all too infrequently. There's a part of me that wants to nerd out enough to play D&D, but I've never done it and it will never happen. If I won a zillion dollars, I would probably spend a good 6-8 months doing little but playing videogames. Lately I've been watching more classic movies than I have horror movies (Jean Harlow FTW). I still have a copy of Madonna's Sex book; this age of Girls Gone Wild has rendered it rather quaint (well, it's still trashy, but...). I've never broken a bone or had stitches. Good lord this is boring me now, so I can only imagine what you're going through. I need to get back to horror movies!

Now, I'm supposed to award seven blogs, thus continuing the cycle. So many rules and regulations! Well, "interesting" fact #8 about me is that I'm totally a rebel, and thus I will be breaking this branch of the award tree right here and now. Once again I thank the people who named me, and I apologize if my branch-breaking seems jerkish. "Interesting" fact #9: I'm a jerk!

FYI: The title of this post alludes to Pizza, Pipes, & Pandemonium, a sort of Chuck E. Cheese-type place that was local to my hometown when I was a youngling. Imagine, if you will: pizza, arcade games, and a PIPE ORGAN all under one roof! It was a child's dream come true- or mine, anyway. It lasted but a couple of years, then the building became a hardware store, then a gym, and finally, it was torn down and replaced with a shiny new CVS...but my memories of gulping down crappy pizza while listening to a pipe organ rendition of the Star Wars theme before running off to play some Galaga remain strong. For the other three people in the world who remember that bizarre place, this post title is for you.

In other FYI news, there have been rather torrential rains falling in southern California over the last week or so. Tornadoes were spotted! Mud is sliding! Burbank Blvd is closed west of the 405! It's...why, it's pandemonium, it is. These wet, grey days have left me feeling like a wet, grey lump, desiring little more than some quality couch-n-movies time. A few days ago, however, I did manage to leave my house- to partake in some quality couch-n-movies time at a friend's abode. I brought over some DVDs, while she went to the video store to see what was what. She came home with, amongst other titles, Rob Zombie's House of 1000 Corpses. I frowned. She said the dude at the store recommended it to her because she said she loves The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. I frowned some more. She asked what my problem was. I relayed that I'd gone to see House when it was playing in theaters, and I'd almost walked out because I hated it so much. My friend frowned. Then I asked if she'd seen The Devil's Rejects- while I didn't like that film either, I found it more tolerable than House. She said she fucking hated The Devil's Rejects and then she frowned a whole lot more.

No, we didn't watch Pandorum. We watched Michael Haneke's Cache, and in the end neither of us got what all the hype was around it. Oh, and the "e" in Cache totally needs an accent aigu, but I don't know how to make one.

I tell you all of this to make a point, and that point is...I do not like House of 1000 Corpses, but plenty of people do. This phenomenon (for which the Germans have a word: Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacherkleinfreude) (I made that up) (mostly) is called "varying opinions". Some people enjoy things that others do not! I know this is a hard concept for The Internet to grasp, but it's true. Sometimes it leaves one scratching one's head- "What kind of crack are these people smoking that they actually like that movie, and where can I get some?" At other times, one is left scratching one's head and pondering the inverse- "What kind of crack am I smoking that I actually like that movie, and where did I get it?" Such is the case with Pandorum.

When trailers for the film popped up, its seeming Event Horizon had a baby with The Descent premise intrigued me; in a not-at-all surprising twist, I never made it to the theater to check it out. Reports from those who did were unenthusiastic at best. Pandorum has recently been released on DVD, and once again, unenthusiasm abounds. Why, then, did I enjoy it, and why do I seem to be the only person who did? Again, what kind of crack am I smoking?

Payton (Dennis Quaid) and Bower (Ben Foster) wake up on a space ship- in the middle of space, people- with no idea who they are, where they are, or how long they were in hypersleep (or cryosleep...you know, one of those super-long space sleeps). They split up; Payton stays in the CIC while Bower heads off into the darkness to make repairs. Their memories slowly return, which is good; there are hundreds of bloodythirsty (and totally mean) mutant creatures on board with them which is bad. Scant few other survivors are encountered! Secrets are revealed! Pandorum (which is, like, space mania) sweeps through the remaining crew! Thank goodness the one chick who is left is a hot scienceologist!

The entire affair is just about as derivative as the trailers led everyone to believe it would be. It really is Event Horizon meets The Descent, with a little Alien thrown in for good measure- familiar, perhaps, to the point of staleness. The science (for lack of a better term) spouted is confusing at best, the script is fairly weak, the camerawork is at times too frenetic, and the middle of the film is bloated like A Certain Someone (okay, me) after too much Diet Coke and salsa con queso, but...dammit, I had a good time. I'm not denying that maybe I have a soft spot for "gritty" sci fi/horror- there's not much of it around and I've never met one of these films that I didn't like. Chances are, this is why I liked Pandorum while everyone else finds it...well, familiar to the point of staleness. Simply put, I get where the criticisms are coming from, and I don't really care. Gimme some dark metal hallways, some dirty crew members, some monsters and some blood and I'm happy. Yes, it's shocking but true: sometimes I have low standards...and that's okay. Everyone has his or her cinematic Achilles heel. Why, I've even heard that some people like Rob Zombie movies!

That said, your mileage regarding Pandorum will most likely vary. If you want a pretty, bloody picture that's all spacetastic, you may feel as I do about it. Or, you may be a jerk. Who am I to judge? After all, I know of Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacherkleinfreude.

Hey, did you listen to part one of The Graveyard Show podcast that features moi and Shannon Lark? Well, if you haven't, it's not to late. If you have, you may (or, frankly, you may not) be pleased to know that part two of the show has been posted. If my memory serves me at all, I think we got into a lively discussion about the social responsibilities that actors have (or don't have), and horrordom's favorite vampire movie, Twilight. Give it a listen- all the cool kids are doing it, I swear.

PART ONE - PART TWO

If it helps, you can think of the two parts like this:

I know that doesn't make any sense whatsoever and the whole analogy or metaphor or what have you falls apart as soon as you think about it...but look, I'm desperate for excuses to post pictures of the Sagal twins around here, so I'll take what I can get.

And so will you! And you'll LIKE it!

Big thanks to The Graveyard Show for asking me back, although I find the pressure to not be a boring guest rather stressful. Hooray!

Okay, "entertainment" may be too strong of a word, but bear with me.

First, I bring you a little something for your EYES- my review of Bitch Slap, which opens today in Los Angeles and New York. My write-up is over at the fabulous Pretty/Scary, but I'll give you a hint about my opinion on the movie: I loved it. It warms my black l'il heart to know that there are other people out there who think Russ Meyer is (was) les knees du bees, and they're trying to carry his torch. Bravo, Bitch Slap...bravo.

For your EARS, well, if you feel like listening to me yammer, then you're in luck, friendos! The Graveyard Show actually asked me back for another interview, only this time I'm accompanied by my pal Shannon Lark. We talk about Ludlow and...I don't know. Other stuff, I think it's safe to assume. Truth be told, I go into some weird zone when I'm answering questions and I'm only vaguely aware of what's going on. Sometimes while I'm talking I have a sort of out of body experience where I can see myself blabbing on about something totally pointless. Other times, the interview turns out to be 3 hours long and I don't remember a thing I've said when it's over. But! You can listen to part one by making with the click click.

Hooray for things!

Wanna read part one of the making of Lip Stick? Then do it and quitcher whining!
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SHANNON LARK: If I was shooting with anyone else but Stacie, filming this movie would have been a bit uncomfortable. Not only is this woman obsessed with her vagina, but she's like...really, really depressed.

STACIE PONDER: As someone who's been depressed AND who owns a vagina, I was clearly made to be a part of this film! But really, the stuff Shannon did in this movie was, at times...interesting, so it's understandable that she wanted to be completely comfortable during the shoot. If she wasn't able to go completely balls out with it (metaphorical balls, I mean), then there's no way Lip Stick would have or could have been successful.

SHANNON LARK: There isn't a lot of dialogue in the film, except for a voice over, so the emotions had to be shown in the body. Stacie would have to direct me on moving my shoulders or doing small things, afterward we would crack up laughing and say something to the effect of "wow, that's really fucked up." I slowly began to realize what sort of position I had put Stacie in, and I silently hoped that it wasn't an uncomfortable one.

STACIE PONDER: Yeah, it was...hmm. Trying to figure out different ways for Shannon to cram crap up her cram hole while not actually showing anything at all was...interesting. And really, really hilarious. Oddly enough, none of it ever felt odd. I think we were each concerned with how the other person was handling all the...fake cramming. The outtakes must be quite a larf.

SHANNON LARK: This time around, we actually had like...time. This was a 3 page script, and we shot for 12 hours straight. After a while I thought the neighbors were going to think we were shooting a porno, but they were all European, so they probably understood.:)

STACIE PONDER: I can only imagine what they were thinking. I remember once I stayed at a motel somewhere and a couple in the room next door had the most comically ridiculously loud sex almost immediately after they arrived. The novelty for me wore off after about 30 seconds, so I do feel for our tourist neighbors who had to listen to fake sexytime noises AND yelling and screaming horror movie noises well into the night. At least they were all too polite to complain.

SHANNON LARK: Not having a crew to utilize, we did everything ourselves: the cleaning, and organizing, making coffee, and peeling avocados. The blood scene took some preparation. We had to purchase sheets and put down plastic, hook up a blood pump and somehow secure a giant latex application quickly. Stacie proved once again that she was a bad ass, and helped me immensely with making sure we did an efficient job, very very quickly.

There was an immense amount of blood we used, which created a cesspool on the bed. After we shot the fx, Stacie went outside to see a meteor shower crossing over us (and Death Valley). I cleaned up and got ready for the next shot. I was determined. Although I do wish I had broken away to see they sky.

STACIE PONDER: When we finally took a break and went outside of the room for some fresh air and chips and salsa, I was immediately blown away by our surroundings. I'd been to Death Valley before, but never at night, and MY GOD it was beautiful. Pitch pitch pitch black- so dark you can't see your hand in front of your face- and the biggest sky full of stars I've ever seen. There was a meteor shower and a heat lightning storm towards the horizon, and you can see the fucking Milky Way out there. The Milky Way! You can see it! The Milky Way! In your eyeballs! I tried to get Shannon out there with some "Dude, just take a break for a few minutes and COME SEE THE FUCKING UNIVERSE" but to no avail. Her brain was buried in the script too much to look up for a bit. There's probably a lesson in there somewhere. Or maybe not, since we had a movie to shoot and it was really late. I don't know.

SHANNON LARK: It was about 11:30 when we were done with the fx, and we had to get the last few important aspects of the film. By the time it was 3am, we were both exhausted. The film is depressing and weird and moody, and it certainly affected me, especially since I had already been on the road for almost a month. I had experienced a maze of weird and uncomfortable situations since I left home, so shooting Lip Stick was just the icing on the cake.

STACIE PONDER: This shoot kind of took more out of me than any other we've done for some reason. Maybe my blood sugar got too low, or the heat of the day caught up to me, or...who knows. Whatever the cause, I know things got a little weird because I was exhausted- Shannon must have been doubly quadruply so. We had some different ideas on how to approach some things in the script, I think, so it took a while longer to figure out which paths to take and how to get there, which sucks when you're that tired. We'd gotten the FX out of the way, which was great, but saved the most difficult stuff for last.

SHANNON LARK: We decided immediately to have a drink and celebrate, since we never have with any other shoot before. We got fucking trashed and passed out at 5am. All the while I'm trying to get Stacie to eat these nasty complimentary donuts I found in the lobby. I just couldn't understand why she wouldn't eat them if she didn't have a gluten intolerance like I do. How odd!

The next morning, Stacie found a black vinegaroon in her hair, which had actually made an appearance in the film! I tried not to laugh, but it was really funny!! SHE WAS SO FREAKED OUT! It reminded me of this time a few months ago where I found one of those suckers in my pants, after I put them on. It was near my crotch, and it was terrifying. I've never taken off my pants so quickly.

After an omelet, we headed towards Death Valley, which you'll be able to read all about in the Ludlow series...
STACIE PONDER: Shannon disappeared right after we cleaned up without telling me what was going on, so I figured she needed to go decompress from the damn movie. Then she came back with some orange juice (to go with our gin: nice-n-classy, we are) and it was just perfect. We got energized enough to get drunk- finally managing to toast ourselves for once after all the work. The next morning, I felt like there was something in my hair, but chalked it up to...I don't know, scabies or something. Then it felt weird again, so I really started fucking with my hair and a GD vinegaroon came plopping out onto the floor and I FLIPPED. Who knows how long it was up there? Did it build a nest and have babies? Did it invite friends over? What the fuck else was going to come crawling out of my hair later on? It was SO NOT COOL. It was just like that urban legend about the girl who gets a cactus and there are spiders in the cactus but she doesn't know it, and they crawl up her vagina and lay eggs. It was JUST like that, except there was no cactus and nothing crawled up my vagina and laid eggs (to the best of my knowledge) and it wasn't a spider. But otherwise? Totally the same.

From the desk of: DON'T SHOOT YOUR MOUTH OFF:

As you may or may not recall, just the other day I was bragging how I never get sick and how my white blood cells kick ass, right? Well, guess who felt like this all weekend?

I don't know what happened. Friday I went to a press day (the results of which will be revealed later on this week!) and I was feeling both hunky and dory. Then Friday night I was feeling neither, then late Friday night I was feeling really bad, then I spent two days mostly sleeping- waking up only to catch 5 minutes of Lockdown (it is vital that I know what prison entails and how I should behave if I should ever fins myself...locked down) or to turn on my Xbox before passing out again before I could pick up the controller. It was essentially shuffle to the couch, sleep, shuffle to the bed, sleep, take my temperature (I became obsessed with taking my temperature almost instantly), sleep, etc etc. Very, very weird. I don't know what happened, although I have my suspicions:

- One of you is a mean Drag Me to Hell-type gypsy who, after reading my post full of boasting, gave a shout of "I'll show her!" and promptly put a pox on me

- The recent anonymous commenter on my pregnancy scares post, who suggested that anyone who thinks babies are weird parasites should probably terminate themselves, somehow influenced my body to rebel on me

- I shouldn't have eaten the proffered piece of cake my roommate made for her boyfriend's birthday, as the eggs she used expired over a month ago...although they both seem to be fine

- It's probably because of something else you did

I don't know if there's any point to my talking about all of this except to say that I have nothing to post today because I'm only just starting to feel human again, or at least as close to human as I ever feel.

My near-death experience of being sick this weekend (okay, maybe that's exaggerating) not only got me obsessed with taking my own temperature, but it also reminded me that yes, we're all going to die someday. Hopefully, that day will be far far FARRRRRRR off, and hopefully death will not come via being boiled alive amongst the hot dogs, as is the case with that poor fellow in My Bloody Valentine. Still, everyone has an expiration date. Thinking about this filled my head with thoughts of "Oh dear lord, who has to throw away my dirty underwear once I'm dead?", and it made me glad that I don't have a journal full of bad poetry tucked away somewhere, just waiting to be discovered after I'm gone. Hooray!

Dear y'all,

So this is it, my big 1000th post. Though I really have nothing profound to say (shock), I couldn't let the moment pass by without acknowledging it somehow. I marked the occasion of my 500th post with a rather lengthy entry describing Final Girl's humble roots and highlighting a few of my favorite posts. Wow, I just noticed that my 500th hit on November 20, 2007- almost two years ago to the day. That's surely significant of something...? Probably not. Anyway, what's happened in the two years since my last major milestone?


...I think we can all agree that one of the best things that's happened around here has been the introduction of Briefcase Woman, who came along one fine day in May, 2008 to demonstrate the joys that can be had when one votes. Since then, she's spread her enthusiasm all over this blog like...like...well, let's honor her origins and vote for an apt simile, shall we?



Hooray!

...the Final Girl Film Club keeps chugging along, powered by the awesomeness of The Internet. We've covered a whopping 18 films since post 500, and there's no sign of stopping yet. Next up: The Wicker Man on December 14. What movies would you like to nominate for FGFC coverage? Before you answer, take a quick peek at my reviews archive to make sure I haven't already reviewed it.

...I made a movie- a few, really. Ludlow will be ready for mass consumption soon, a thought that's as terrifying as it is metaphorical boner-inducing.

...I've written 85 columns for AMC (holy crapping crap) and I've started contributing to Rue Morgue magazine. Both make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

...this little site just keeps on keepin' on, mostly business as usual. Reviews, stupid pictures, blah blah blah. As you know, I love Final Girl more than Donkey Kong loves throwing barrels at plumbers. While I could write exclusively for myself and be somewhat satisfied (being an only child grants me a +15 to both mana regeneration and my ability to entertain myself) (sorry, I've been playing Dragon Age: Origins) (it's so fucking awesome)...well, it wouldn't be the same without you guys reading it. Again, I say hooray!

Okay, now tell me what's been your favorite post or feature or whatevs here on Final Girl so I feel pretty.

What? I'm allowed to fish for ego-stroking compliments every 500 posts, that's the rule I made up.

Here's to 10,000 more posts! HUZZAH!