I Came, I Saw, I Came
So I went to the DVD release party for the Saw Uncut Edition DVD last nite -- but that's not important right now.

What's important is the clip from Saw II that was shown at the party (which was really a party for the sequel more than the DVD anyway -- what else could explain the presence of Franky G and Donnie Wahlberg?). It's an updated version of the Amanda "jawtrap" scene from the first flick (which featured the luminous Shawnee Smith), only this time there's something quite different.

For one thing, the trap is really a headtrap this time -- it's kind of a neck-up spike-filled iron maiden device that will snap shut around the victim's head like a venus flytrap and render them utterly perforated if the victim doesn't find the key, which has been conveniently inserted behind their own eyeball. But more importantly, the victim in question is a hot little slice of go-go heaven wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a leather harness.

I'm sorry -- did I miss the memo that the sequel was being directed by Dave DeCoteau?

Holy Smurfing Smurf!
In one of the more disturbing anti-war campaigns in history, the fucking sadists at UNICEF has literally carpet-bombed the Smurfs to teach a lesson about what war does to children. Having gained the approval of the estate of Peyo (the creator of the little blue homos), the Belgian chapter of the United Children's Fund has created a 25-second film that depicts the periwinkle paradise getting totaled by bombs, leaving Baby Smurf terrified and alone amid the corpses.

You really have to read the story to get the whole drift -- it's too dismurfing for me to discuss further.

My Bloody Search String Report
It's been a long time since I put one of these together, so I thought I'd take a minute here to give you kids an idea of what sick, twisted, and downright inspired minds are trolling the Internets these days. All the below search strings are actual searches generated by readers like yourselves that for some reason led to this site.

Be afraid, people. Be very afraid.

hide and seek deniro hide and suck
Couldn't agree more. Unless you're talking about something entirely different, in which case I'm terminating this relationship NOW.

husband serves as neighborhood as tongue pussy cleaner stories
Oh thank God someone is FINALLY showing an interest in my seldom-visited Husband Serving as Tongue Pussy Cleaner Stories section. And here I though you people were just here for the Ryan Reynods pics...

why is a poop deck called a poop deck?
I could tell you... but then I'd have to poop on you.

homosexual jason voorhees
I actually did write an essay on my theory about Jason's seck-shoo-ality over at the delightful Pretty-Scary.net. Come out, come out, whatever you are!

hire tara reid
Who taught Tara how to use Google?!?!?

look at these chi-chis
Uh-uh -- look at THESE Chi-Chis.

deborah raffin hamburger
Now, I'm assuming that this person was looking for the made-for-TV gem Mind over Murder. But for all I know, Deborah Raffin is fllipping patties at a Jack-in-the Box right now.

Soundtrack with fuck the pain away
I actually know this one: My Little Eye. Go, Peaches!

get a life size r2d2
I think just "get a life" pretty much covers that one.

sam elliot shitbox
Either Sam has been litter-trained, or this person shares my obsession with Mr. Elliot's farter in The Legacy.

the smell of shit puts fags in frenzy
So that's what I've been doing wrong -- here I thought it was CK1!

how much is sir andrew lloyd webber worth?
I'll give him to you for fifty. But I get to keep the tiara.

A Tisket, a Tasket, a Network Prime-Time Basket
So you may be wondering, "how can it be that Invasion has been on for nearly a month now, and Buzz hasn't made but a single peep about the devastatingly hot presence of Network Alpha Hottie Eddie Cibrian?"

Well, I've actually just come up for air after 4 weeks of furious couch-frottage while watching reruns of Eddie's big prime-time adventure. Not only is the show itself quite fun, but he looks hot as ever. Kids, this man could make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window.

So I'm of course DELIGHTED that some soul even more deranged than myself took the time to screencap AND montage images from the episode where Eddie bounced into bed naked and later showered with She Who Must Not Be Named. And all I have to say is this:

Did the network censors not NOTICE the prominent presence of Mr. Cibrian's Cuban cigar in the bottom-left image? Or do we just have friends in high places?

I love how the montage at right makes it look like even Mr. Eddie is unable to help checking out his own basket...

The Knee Jerk
Well, I don't have much to offer this week, as I skipped Wallace and Gromit to see Serenity last week (um, I know -- I'm getting help), and an economy-sized tubful of Johnny Messner's duckbutter couldn't entice me to see serial bubba Matthew McImSoLame and past-due skirtsteak Al Pacino in Two For the Money.

Oh, all right -- I've been sitting at home watching my Amityville Horror DVD and beating my #&$ like it owes me money. But here's the 2 cents I could get out of it:

The Squid and the Whale
So, I'm totally not, like, a "child of divorce", so maybe I was a little unprepared for what formerly-snarky, newly-talented Noah Baumbach (Kicking and Screaming, Mr. Jealousy) had to offer here. Because instead of an affected, intellectual comedy of manners, Noah-baby's given us an emotionall brutal flick about what divorce can do to kids, particularly when joint custody is decided upon. Jeff Daniels (whom I will always confuse with Dave Coulier, regardless) is phenomenal as the shifty, selfish father; Laura Linney thankfully doesn't have to defend the honor of a dead possessed teenager as the mother; Princess Caraboo spawn Owen Kline is fantastic as the supremely disturbed younger son (this poor kid really doesn't deal well with the separation); and Cursed's Jesse Eisenberg... well, he does his standard "wink, squint, twitch, and finish the line" thing, which is growing incredibly annoying, at this point. Still, as his character is supposed to be a little annoying, it's okay -- and as the overall film is so damn well balanced that it's easy to get past. Funny, quietly beautiful, and thought-provoking, it's the film that The Royal Tenenbaums would have been were it not all about track-suits and sweatbands. One of my favorites of the year so far.

Ryan Reynolds: Now with More Gay
The admitted genii at Fametracker have applied their tried-and-true 2 Stars, 1 Slot test to the absentee president of Buzz's Future Husbands of America and Canada, Ryan Reynolds, and virtual nobody Zachary Levi, who is apparently on some show called Less than Perfect.

Now, first off -- if you're going to be on a show with a former cast member of Popular, it had damn well better be Leslie Grossman, and not formerly-husky Glamazon-wannabe Sarah Rue, especially after she was such a bitch on that celebrity episode of Trading Spaces where Gen made her grody study look like "a social services office".

And second, where the aitch-ee-double-hockey-sticks do they get off comparing the one shimmering star in our otherwise dreary genre universe to some rabbit-faced twink who probably took his stage name off his favorite pair of jeans? Less Than Perfect, indeed. Fametracker defends their outlandish claim thusly:

Not Ryan Reynolds, a.k.a. Zachary Levi, plays Kipp Stedman, the vaguely prissy, kinda charming, and totally smarmy co-worker who looks, talks, and acts exactly like Ryan Reynolds, but is Not Ryan Reynolds. He's more like Ryan Reynolds Lite. He's Ryan Reyntofutti. He's "I Can't Believe It's Not Ryan Reynolds."

There's only one way to clear this up for good, fellas. Zach, show us your tits.

(PS - I am in no way suggesting that Mr. Levi is gay. That picture beat me to it.)

It All Comes Back to Brawny
CampBlood "Special" Correspondent Chuckie pointed out that the wunderkinder behind the recent spate of hilarious fake movie trailers (the Shining Redux I mentioned the other day; the West Side Story as 28 Days Later; the Titanic Redux) are also behind one of the most insidious and devastating mind-control plots the world has seen since the heyday of the goose-stepper regime:

The new Brawny Man ads.

Yes, the folks at PS260 (their website is hilarious) are responsible for creating these hilarious spoof ads, as well as editing the brilliant Happy Birthday and Birthday Dream ads for Brawny (although the versions on their site also include a disturbing German-sounding voiceover that makes the ads even creepier).

Fear them.

Amityville Rent Whores
The Amityville Horror DVD is sadly short of fabulous extras (read: loving, lingering shots of Ryan Reynolds' ass-cleavage), but it does show its hand in terms of its target audience.

Yes, it features a preview for Rent.

Just try and convince me that the people who stuck the preview for the gayest movie musical ever created in the DVD extras for a horror film didn't know that the film's real ticket-sellers, Ryan Reynolds' fuzzy nipples, were going to be freeze-framed to the point of extreme chafing as the gay men of America and Canada cracked one out in unison.

Serenity Now!
I'm glad that Serenity is being received well -- while I had some issues with the agonizingly long middle third, I still thought it was a fun flick and certainly one of the freshest sci-fi films to come out in a while (I'm talking to your swollen, beefy head, Riddick).

The success of Serenity means that writer/director/wunderkind Joss Whedon (best known for creating one of the best television series in recent history, Buffy the Vampire Slayer) will get some big-screen props and likely have more control over his upcoming projects, the Wonder Woman movie and a psychological horror project called Goner -- which is good for all of us.

But even more importantly, it means that star Nathan Fillion (who once shared the small screen with fellow Canadian Ryan Reynolds in Two Guys, a Girl, and a Paternity Suit) may attract some bigger-name projects -- perhaps even projects that call for him to show off his round little pooper (as seen at right, from the Firefly series DVD).

Don't say I never did anything for you, kids.

Shining Happy People
This has been all over the Internets over the past few days, but I've had some folks clamoring for it, so I thought I'd post it here.

Some fucking genius cut a trailer for The Shining that makes it look like a heartwarming family comedy. Proof that a good preview can make a movie about a man trying to kill his wife and child look like the next Secondhand Lions.

You really need to check it out HERE.

When Salisbury Hill kicked in I seriously thought I was gonna piss myself.

Pussy Control
In honor of CampBlood "Special" Correspondent Chuckie's birthday, I put the helmet on the litte fucker and took him out to see what is easily one of the most bizarre pieces of staged entertainment I've ever stumbled across: The Moscow Cat Theatre.

As the title might suggest, the MCT consists of a group of Russian cats being wrangled by a few clowns into doing things like push baby carriages with dogs in them, do handstands, jump into cookware, and ride hobbyhorses. The most surreal moment of the show was when a cat sat upright on an enormous disco ball and allowed itself to be dressed in a Marie Antoinette-style frilly dress and hat. Both Chuckie and myself were taken onstage and forced to bend over ("oh - THAT again..."), at which point a tiny kitty bounded across our backs like we were turtles in a game of Frogger.

Anyway, it was good enough for super-cutie Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters, who was sitting a few rows behind us and looked every bit as horrified/delighted as we were at the events unfolding before us. Anytime the techno version of Cotton Eyed Joe is used in a live performance, you know you're in for something special.

Check out the official site for more info and plenty of disturbing imagery.

EXCLUSIVE: David DeCoteau Gets Beastly
I’m very excited to have a set of EXCLUSIVE pics (including a candid behind-the-behind-behind-the-scenes shot) from David DeCoteau’s just-wrapped boys-in-undies-in-peril masterpiece, Beastly Boyz. Sure, I may not have been too charitable to some of Dave’s films in the past (I love me some Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama; The Frightening… not so much), but I’m particularly excited about Boyz because it marks the launch of the all-new Rapid Heart Extreme label: an offshoot of the Rapid Heart brand that promises more blood, sex, and intensity than the more family-friendly gay-vague vibe of the previous films.

In other words -- where once we had boys in undies, now we have boys in WET undies.

Here's some details from the official press release:

Photographed in British Columbia, Canada the story is a shattering and lurid tale of revenge as a young man avenges the death of his twin sister by a group violent criminals. “This is the maiden release for the RAPID HEART EXTREME label that I announced two years ago. What makes BEASTLY BOYZ different from the other Rapid Heart features is that the tone is much stronger and vivid in terms of suspense and sensuality - much like the retro horror movies of the 70s and early 80s. With this label I want to satisfy a much broader horror audience who demand a much more intense and shocking horror movie experience with a slate of “shot on film” shockers that were inspired by the edgy and creepy look of the Grindhouse movies I grew up on.”

"BEASTLY BOYS is a much more subversive and twisted story – it’ll make your eyes burn! It really is the perfect project to launch Rapid Heart Extreme.” The film stars newcomers Sebastian Gacki (THE BROTHERHOOD 4), Emrey Wright (KILLER BASH) and international male model Charlie Marsh. Expect a Spring DVD release in both rated and unrated editions jammed packed with extras.

Click HERE for the pics! And check out Rapid Heart's official site for more details!

The Knee Jerk: September 30
... wherein I give my unsolicited opinion on this weekend's non-horror releases

A History of Violence
Folks, after 30 years of solid genre films, director (and Canadian) David Cronenberg has essentially slapped my face clear off my head and handed it back to me for safekeeping. His latest film – an action thriller almost entirely devoid of his standard avant-garde touches – is the smartest, most brutal, and least compromising studio film of the year, and possibly his best, most assured work. This movie had me breathless from the first shot (which lasts 3 minutes or something), and once it was over I nearly collapsed. Hilariously funny, insidiously brilliant, gory, shocking, and heart-wrenching. An absolute must-see.

Serenity
Joss Whedon takes his trademark combo of snark and melodrama (“snarkodrama”?) to the big screen, to mostly pleasant effect. After a promising first third, though, things slide into “padded scene from the new Battlestar Galactica series” territory for a good half-hour – not exactly thrilling. But the Joss-man is able to yank the flick out of made-for-Sci-Fi-Channel territory in the end, and on the whole it’s a fun, agile romp. Some very interesting camera effects (a hand-held camera in the vacuum of outer space? Interesting idea…) and legitimately good CGI make the battle scenes way better than anything the Star Wars Shitquels had to offer, and besides – how can you not love that Adam Baldwin from My Bodyguard is still on screens across the country? That’s a thing of beauty.

The Greatest Game Ever Played
Are you fucking kidding me? Wild shirtless Canadian firefighters on Cialis couldn’t drag me to that shit.

Hey, Ahnold!

Fuck you.

NYCHFF Announces Kickass Lineup
The ever-growing New York City Horror Film Festival is busting a nut this year with its most eclectic and exciting lineup to date. Besides giving its Lifetime Achievement Award to legendary producer Roger Corman (and screening his Masque of the Red Death), NYCFF has snagged the World Premiere of Tobe Hooper's Mortuary, which excites me greatly considering how much I enjoyed his Toolbox Murders. There's also a screening of the J-horror anthology Three Extremes (being put out stateside by Lion's Gate), a new 35mm print of Jaws (aka the film that kept this sissy out of water for 12 whole years), and a special midnight benefit screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show (featuring the Home of Happiness players stage show and full audience participation), the proceeds of which will go to the Red Cross Hurricane Katrina relief efforts. They're even screening A Nightmare Before Christmas for the kiddies (which far outshines little sister Corpse Bride, now in theatres), just in time for Halloween.

The fest runs from the Wednesday October 19th kickoff party through the awards on Sunday evening -- I'll be the one in the gorilla suit chasing Felissa Rose around with a hunk of soft Velveeta. Be there!

Check out the official site for more info and tickets!

Oh, Pioneer!
While I'm handjobbing my hometown, allow me a moment to apply a healthy amount of baby oil to the Two Boots Pioneer Theatre, who has announced just about the sickest October lineup imagninable -- particularly if you're a fan of the undead. Always on the cutting edge when it comes to cult, horror, and just plain weird shit, the Pioneer is outdoing itself with a multicultural zombie retrospective, a vampire horror all-nighter, and a Dario Argento Halloween double-bill of Bird with the Crystal Plumage and Deep Red.

The Pioneer will also be hosting a special screening of Dante Tomaselli's Satan's Playground (featuring Felissa Rose), followed by a 35mm screening of Evil Dead AND Demons (that's THIS Saturday, sponge); a week's run of the new romantic zombie flick Zombie Honeymoon; and tons of other hot flicks like Shaun of the Dead, Shadow: Dead Riot, Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things, Carnival of Souls, The Dark Hours, Castle of Blood, Family Portraits, Pulse, The Tingler, Re-Animator, Re-Penetrator, The XXXorcist, Ichi the Killer, and much, much, much more.

Totally check out the Pioneer's official site for everything. Pardon me while I go wash up now.

Renny Harlin: The New Nostradamus
I don't know how many hours I've spent desperately trying to convince people that Deep Blue Sea is one of the greatest cinematic achievements ever created. Wait, let me rephrase that -- desperately trying to convince people that even without the incredible edible Thomas Jane in swim trunks, Deep Blue Sea is one of the greatest cinematic achievements ever created. It's go sharks. It's got rappers. It's got foul-mouthed birds, bitter British women, and Janis Soprano getting blown through a wall. Hold on -- it's got Thomas Jane in swim trunks.

But despite my insistence, some people still don't get it, usually because of one thing: they seem to find the idea that creating super-talented marine life that could potentially run amok and destroy everyone is ludicrous. And maybe, in all fairness, they were right.

Until now.

Read it and weep, nonbelievers: Flipper's got a toxic dart with your name on it, and he's swimming soon to a beach near you. Yes, the US military has been training dolphins to shoot people underwater, and their coastal compound was breached during the recent hurricanes, sweeping the killer fish (I know, "dolphins aren't fish". But you come up with something to call them other than "dolphin" or "Flipper"...) out to open sea.

Watch your back if you go swimming this weekend off the gulf coast. Particularly if you're eating tuna that's not dolphin-safe -- these bitches have a score to settle.

Busting Balls
I've stumbled across one of the most bizarre fetish sites I've ever seen -- it's called Serial-Ballbusters and it specializes in videos and pictures of women kicking men in the nuts.

That's it.

Just kicking men in the nuts.

See, these women aren't just ballbusters -- they're serial ballbusters. The best parts, though, are the descriptions for the various video clips that are for sale. Here's my fave:

Where do you go with my bike ?
A man is trying to steal Maria's bike while she's harvesting some nuts... Suddenly, she sees him and run after him to get her bike back ! She beats his crotch with the bike, she brutally kicks his groin ! She menaces him to castrate him... She grabs his balls and squeezes them very hard ! The guy is in pain... He falls unconscious. She then beats him with a big branch !

I don't know which is more horrifying to listen to -- the sound of gonads being slowly squeezed into lumps of coal, or the poorly-translated English.

Freshness for Final Girls
This is a bit of a long story (involving a layover at Chicago O'Hare -- but what doesn't!? -- and months of obsessed websearching), but I'll spare you the details. All you need to know is that I have found probably the most indespensible personal hygiene product known to man:

The Final Wipe.

Final Wipe is "a moistened toilet paper supplement that cleans and refreshes". Final Wipes can be used after or in place of toilet paper, and are hypo-allergenic and specifically formulated "for localized areas". The list of uses includes home, office, car (?!!), workshop, job site, camping, hunting, fishing, hiking, golfing, gym bag, road trips, sporting events, theme park visits, picnics, public/private restrooms, and basically anywhere else messy, hedonistic gay sex could unexpectedly occur.

According to the FAQs, a month's supply is less than $4 (some of you more active bottoms might end up spending a bit more), so they're cheap enough to take with you just about anywhere. Just ask Kevin, whose testimonial claims, "I brought a couple of them with me each day I went hunting this season". Yes -- I bet you did, Kevin. Or listen how Don T's special time with his son was made extra-special, thanks to Final Wipe:

"I took my son fishing with me this weekend and it always happens, he had to go while we were out in the middle of he lake, so I got out the bucket, held a towel around him, and gave him a couple final wipes to clean up."

So whether you're a Final Girl, are running from The Final Terror, or studying for your Final Exam, Final Wipes are simply a must-have. You can even order your very own t-shirt with the logo: "You can still feel like #1... Even after going #2"!

History Lesson
Although it's not a horror film and I therefore can't pretend to have any fucking clue what it's all about, allow me to take a moment to drool all over myself as I try to convince you to go see A History of Violence. It's not because ViggoMyIggo shows his ass and those little oblique lower abdominal muscles that draw a V from your hip bones -- anyway, that's not it. And it's not because of the suggested gayness of the character of his son. It's not even because it features multiple graphic deaths, including exploding heads and death by neck-stomp.

It's just because it's brilliant. Easily the best film of the year (so far), Cronenberg's humane and flat-out incredible "thriller" dickslapped me until I was chapped and bleeding, and then made me vacuum his living room. The story is fascinating, the acting is daring, the characters are marvelously flawed and infuriatingly lovable. I wept like a three-month-old baby girl in the theatre, and for once it wasn't because I was out of Milk Duds.

Seriously -- it's phenomenal. Go see it.

Dark Water 2: The Military Years
So the troops occupying storm-ravaged New Orleans are getting a taste of its legendary spiritual goofery. My only question is: when did Crispin Glover join the military?

Click HERE for the magic (t/y Sploid, Gawker's less star-fucky baby brother... see below).

Gawker Jumps the Shark
In more non-horror news, I’m sad to have to editorialize on the recent events at once-golden uber-blog Gawker. If you live in New York or have even a passing interest in media, celebrity, publishing, or general Manhattanish gossip, Gawker was once a trashy news/rumor site essentially unparalleled in its scope, wit, and sheer balls. Not just any blog can use a heinously unflattering pic of known dominatrix and child-eater Anna Wintour as its promo image and live to tell the tale.

So I’m seriously bummed to announce that September 23, 2005 is the day that Gawker jumped the shark by becoming just the kind of navel-gazing, elitist assholes that it once purported to despise, loved to ridicule, and attempted to unseat. By adding an “invitation-only” Comments feature to the site (which allows only those deemed special enough to share their 40-word snark on everything from, um... Lloyd Grove to Richard Johnson?), the Gawkers have essentially introduced the blog equivalent of the “cool kids” table in the junior high cafeteria. Who would have any interest in lingering at the perimeter of this caustic cocktail party, listening to a bunch of friends congratulate each other on how good they are at ripping apart their bosses, celebrities, and other people that they clearly wish they could be? If I attend a circle jerk, I count on going home with a sprained thumb – not an earful of dollar-bin liberal wit.

Anyway, I can’t in good conscience visit the site anymore, as the true intentions of the whole Gawker phenomenon have been revealed as somewhat unsavory: create a power-clique of codependent frustrated tabloid journos that, by their own exclusivity, hope to elevate themselves to the level of middling celebrity that they so envy. Sorry, kids – your targets have earned their positions on their pillars the old-fashioned way: sleeping their way to the top. Sleeping your way onto the Sycophantic Prom Court is just plain pathetic.

Another Reason to Avoid New Jersey
Okay, so he traveled quite a bit outside of the Garden State, but the ex-nurse homo-murderer-perhaps-cannibal who has been in the news lately is still not exactly a ringing endorsement for New Jersey tourism.

Dare I suggest that he might have been a frequent patron of the Elizabeth, NJ Burger King?

And You Will Know Him by the Trail of Bad Films
Sorry to poop all over your Friday, but it seems that all my lobbying to get cinematic repeat-offender Joel Schumacher burned at the stake in West Hollywood (we tried the testicle cuffs, but he liked them too much) have been, ahem, fruitless.

Schumacher is apparently set to re-unite with fellow big-budget crapmaster Jim Carrey for a "quirky thiller" called The Number 23, which apparently has something to do with someone who keeps encountering the number 23. Given the relative complexity of Schumacher's other thriller works (8mm being about a man who encounters some 8mm film; Phone Booth being about a man in a phone booth), I'm not entirely surprised.

But really, Hollywood -- did we learn NOTHING from The Phantom of the Opera? How much charred, rose-strewn earth must we endure before someone finally slips some Skinny and Sweet into his Skinny Chai Soy Latte? While you're at it, slip some to whoever coined the term "quirky thriller".

George Jefferson vs. the Bitch from Witchboard
So just about everyone has something to say about the head-scratchingly strange lineup for the next season of VH1’s The Surreal Life, but no one seems to be putting things into proper perspective: yes, model, actress, and husband-basher Tawny Kitaen was in Bachelor Party and writhed on a car in that Whitesnake video. But her career high was certainly her star turn as the beleaguered yet magnificently-coiffed lead of the fabulously trashy Witchboard. How many other Surreal Life alums can boast about being beheaded with an axe? Tawny (not to be confused with the similarly overtalented Tane of Crawlspace) will share living space and likely pubic lice with fellow horror alum (and homo) Alexis Arquette (Bride of Chucky, the underrated Jack Be Nimble, and the overrated Frisk), Sherman Helmsley, and 3 other people who would likely appear at your Bar Mitzvah for cab fare and a good roast beef sandwich.

Not that that’s a bad thing. It is tough to get good cold cuts these days.

But, Buddy...
File Under: Coked-Up Marketing Meetings Gone Awry (along with the Newer Gayer Brawny Man and those creepy Burger King ads). My dear friend D-Ho (short for Davey Honey Chile) turned me onto this interesting little ad site for Lee Jeans, which features pass-around-party-bottom Buddy Lee playing guidance counselor to a bunch of exceedingly odd high school students.

Our favorite: Click on Darcy, and then watch the “Stunts” movie. Precious.

Huffed, Puffed, and Blown
So you may have noticed that the ol’ homestead has been on somewhat shaky ground lately – I’ve been plagued by technical problems mostly related to an upsurge in usage. Yes, kids – there are now over FIFTEEN of you out there who actually read this shit (no, Mom – I’m not counting you. And I’ll say the brown word whenever I fucking well want!).

I’m sorry if my Nazi hosting company has deprived you of precious hours reading up on your favorite Movies of the Weak or gazing stoned at Eddie Cibrian’s man-cleavage, but CampBlood is not, after all, a brick house – it’s a shanty made of popsicle sticks lashed together with used dental floss fished out of the trashcans of better-respected blogs. Please forgive me. Buy a shirt or coffee mug or something if it would make you feel better, but given recent events there are plenty of folks who need help more than I.

So just shake your head knowingly and get back to watching Stephen Geoffreys take it up the ass.

A Need to Get Hostel?
It may actually be time for me to eat my shorts in regards to my long-standing snark toward flash-in-the-can Crapin' Fever wonderboy Eli Roth, who wins the Oscar for Number of Handjobs Gotten from Making One Lousy, Over-Hyped Fratboy Movie. See, even notwithstanding the fact that I thought Cabin Fever was a stupid, wretchedly-directed waste of time, I was willing to give old Eli a shot. But my patience wore a bit thin after he spent over 3 years announcing never-to-materialize projects (some of which were falsely announced, I realize -- but not all), getting kicked out of of his own production company, and mugging to the camera of Best Week Ever (I mean, come on - Mo Rocca didn't even have to make a bad horror movie for his seat at the table).

But it seems as though Eli's butter-palmed jump into the genre circle-jerk may actually be paying dividends. Early word on Hostel (his mysterious backpackers-gone-wild story that famously features a cameo by Takeshi Miike) is extremeley positive, both online and from my few friends who made it to its screening at Toronto just days ago. And I'm the first one to eat my crow if my Cassandra-like forecasts of Eli's one-hit-wonderdom turn out to be the inane ramblings of a worn-out boozer whose only joys come from singing karaoke at Asian drag bars and collecting antique casserole dishes. Or maybe a little from Column A...

Ryan Reynolds: Up Close and Personal
A loving reader wrote in to let me know that my future husband/gardener/nipple donor Ryan Reynolds was on Mad TV on Saturday and had a few interesting things to say about his genre work: namely, that The Amityville Horror and Blade: Trinity are "great movies to masturbate to."

I don't think he realizes that this is the case even if you aren't Ryan Reynolds.

Ryan followed this comment by adding that he still cries at the end of Sleepless in Seattle, his favorite spice is marjoram, and that "boys have a penis and girls have a vagina." Thanks to Spanky for the tip!

Get Bent, Bitches!
I really don't need to get into the fact that instead of reading this crap right now, you should be sitting squarely in a theatre seat enjoying HellBent, the maiden theatrical voyage of our deligtfully marginalized little homo horror subgenre. After all the cheerleading I've done for this solid, fun, and inspiring little flick, let me rest by emphasizing how important opening weekend will be for this movie and the possibility of others like it -- if you're in one of the 6 cities where HellBent is showing, shake yourself out of your K-hole, get the maid to let you out of your sling, and haul your chapped business to the theatre post-haste!

For my review of HellBent, click HERE, and for my interview with its delightful director, Paul Etheredge-Ouzts, click HERE. And definitely check out the official site for showtimes and news.

Hide Not Thine Light Under a Bushel, Ryan Reynolds!
In one of the most horrifying cinematic happenings in history, Alpha Himbo (and president of Buzz's Future Husbands of America and Canada) Ryan Reynolds of Blade: Trinity and The Amityville Horror has done the unthinkable:

He has donned a fat-suit.

People, let's be frank here: there are two reasons to go see a Ryan Reynolds movie, and they stand at attention in a crisp breeze. For him to encase his ticket-sellers in latex in the name of "comedy" is tantamount to complete career suicide. Remember Garth Brooks and his Chris Gaines delusion? That's nothing compared to Ryan burying his fuzzy manbosom under pounds of suffocating rubber.

And while we're on the subject, what's the deal with both Ryan and two-time upcoming co-star Anna Faris (in both Just Friends and Waiting) abandoning the horror genre for lame comedies (Anna was the lead in the Scary Movies and played a fabulously predatory lesbian in May and a cheerleader in Lover's Lane)? Someone please tell them both that when their mainstream freshness dates expire, their real fans will be eagerly awaiting their returns.

Just as long as Ryan checks his shirt at the door.

(Yes, I do understand that Ryan plays two roles in the film, one sans blubber-butt. But that's not the point -- nobody puts baby in a fat-suit...)

Celebrate Pudding with Buzz!
My dear friend Joe has tipped me off that this coming Monday is the most important and oddly overlooked holiday of the entire year:

National Butterscotch Pudding Day.

No joke, folks -- this is the day when we die-hard fans of the most smoothly perfect of all milk-based desserts (quiet, tapiocaphiles!) come together to celebrate in rich, creamy, calorie-be-damned abandon. Meet me at noon in Central Park and we'll have a pudding-in, mmkay? Maybe we can even get our patron saint to join...

Google: Still Smarter than Arkansas
Go to Google, type "FAILURE" into the search box, and click the I'm Feeling Lucky button.

From the mouths of Googs, yo. (t/y David)

The Knee Jerk: September 16
So the studios are doing the distribution equivalent of emptying their lint-traps this weekend – there is a veritable shitstorm of movies opening with little fanfare and no screening opportunities for critics (neither of which is a good sign). Since I haven’t been able to see Cry_Wolf or Venom, I can only imagine what disasters they might be – and will do so in loving detail.

Cry_Wolf
A PG-13 campus thriller (yawn…), Cry_Wolf is like Gossip meets Urban Legend – which would be fine if either of these movies were actually watchable. Cute final boy Julian Morris is easy on the eyes, but even his apple-blushed cheeks and a decent twist aren’t able to save the film from the human torpedo that is Jon Bon Jovi. It’s one thing to dig up the bones of an early-90’s pop star to play a wizened love interest for a gaggle of past-prime ladies in Moonlight and Valentino, but it’s another thing entirely to cast him a full decade later as the head of the hero’s rival fraternity. We’re not buying it! I also found the subplot involving the Knights Templar to be far too topical for its own good.

Venom
No, this isn’t a remake of the Susan George kidnapping-gone-wrong-thanks-to-a-killer-snake-that-bites-her-on-the-face flick; it’s actually the final incarnation of Backwater aka The Reaper aka The Bunion that Dimension Shaved off Its Crusty Heel When No One Was Looking. I’ve actually heard some advance word on this one, and it’s not pretty: grating editing and a lame killer do nothing to improve on one of Kevin Williamson’s weaker projects. But then again, when Bijou Phillips is involved, I can’t imagine what good could come of things (Bijou, if you’re reading this, please don’t scratch my eyes out). Watch Agnes Bruckner (who could double-dip when and if The Woods actually gets released) navigate the patented Marley Shelton Final Girl Career Evacuation Plan as America sheds a silent tear for another short-lived genre starlet.

I did actually see a few of the wide-release films (Just Like Heaven and Corpse Bride), which are oddly similar in that they both openly endorse necrophilia – pretty progressive for a children’s musical and a romantic comedy.

Corpse Bride
Not bad, but not great either. I actually found it kind of dull, to be honest – the endlessly creative visual flair of A Nightmare Before Christmas has been all but yanked, and replaced with a Barbie Remains of the Day Dream Mansion Playset. The songs are forgettable, the time spent in the Land of the Dead is too short and feels a bit claustrophobic (and not in a good way), and Johnny Depp is sorely underused as the voice of the bland hero. The scene where Emily rises from her grave to accept Victor’s proposal is pure Gothic brilliance – but it just slides downhill from there. Not a disaster by any means, but not as magical as I had hoped.

Just Like Heaven
A movie I really wanted to hate, but that kind of caught me off-guard. As a mystery (Reese Witherspoon plays a spirit who can’t remember who she is but knows that the apartment now being rented by super-cute Mark Ruffalo is hers), it’s lame. As a romance, it’s kind of lame. But as a very light comedy, it does have some cute moments, mostly thanks to Ruffalo, who bears the burden of playing the rom-com dork exceedingly well, bringing some clever physical comedy and touching pathos to the part. The supporting characters are a bit dry (John Heder is alright as a SoCal medium and Ivana Milicevic of the criminally underrated Head Over Heels is great as a slutty neighbor) and Witherspoon’s character is kind of like one of those girls that gets really loud when she’s drunk and annoys everyone, but her heart’s in the right place, so it’s kind of forgivable. Plus, the film would be very queer-friendly even without its San Fran locale – lots of gay references and camp moments. It’s more Hello Again! than All of Me, but it’s certainly better than most other romantic shitheaps.

Lightning Crashes
Also, I would be remiss to go without mentioning the sad (and yet, at 91, not entirely unexpected) passing of Robert Wise, director of the unimaginably fabulous The Haunting (the original one, not the remake with the Honeycomb cereal creatures coming out of the walls), West Side Story, and others. In an unfortunate coincidence, another life-or-death celebrity event has unfortunately shoved this passing out of the headlines like so many milkshake-soaked paparazzi. I think the glorious bitches at Defamer put it best when they said:

"Robert Wise, Academy Award winning director of The Sound of Music and West Side Story died of heart failure yesterday at 91. Pray that his soul was not captured inside Britney’s baby after it shuffled off its mortal coil."

And as I’m contractually obligated to comment on the natural disaster that is the Spears spawn, I will say this and this only:

Gentlemen, our new Liza has arrived.

The Children are Coming!
This is really exciting, folks: the long-lost Children of Ravensback (aka The Children), the film that as a child led me to paint my fingernails black with magic marker and stalk my parents around the house, is coming to DVD. The good news is, this will expose an entire new universe of fans to this incredibly strange movie. The bad news is, it’s being put out by Troma, which means that it will likely look like shit (uh, full-screen? Wha-wha-whah?) and feature no extras other than Lloyd Kaufman acting all gay as an introduction.

Take the good, take the bad, take ‘em both and there you have… The Children.

Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie
This may be a strange tangent, but I think I’m on to something here: I’m almost certain that there’s a curse over the cast of the smash comedy American Pie. Let’s look at some recent events and how they’ve affected the various players:

Natasha Lyonne: hospitalized for drug addiction, Hepatitis C, and godknowswhatelse
Tara Ried: after a series of terrible film projects and public embarrassments, her show Taradise is cancelled. Shockingly, being a drunk who can't keep her tits in does NOT guarantee you a slot on Wild On!
Chris Klein: dumped by Katie Holmes for an alien dwarf
Eugene Levy: new “comedy” The Man both a critical and financial ass-rape
Mena Suvari: divorced from creepy-old-man husband, photographed with “handsome” lesbian
Jason Biggs: still has to be Jason Biggs

Sheesh. This is like the Poltergeist curse, people – I haven’t seen this much career bloodshed associated with one film since Myra Breckenridge. Do you think that the cast made a blood-pact with the devil to make their dirty little comedy a blockbuster hit in exchange for utter personal and professional devastation years later?

All I can say is, don’t be surprised if Seann William Scott is outed by Confidential Magazine as a lesbian and Jennifer Coolidge spontaneously combusts on the set of Legally Blond 3: Of Human Blondage.

Trailer Fabulous
I thought it would be a nice time to take a look at some of the online movie trailers that are currently hogging valuable bandwidth from our clueless employers.

Saw II
I gotta say, it looks better than the original at this point -- but that wouldn't be too tall an order. A bunch of generic thirtysomethings are locked in a house by the Jigsaw and have to find something to stop from dying and get out. Depending on how this is handled, it could either be fabulous (My Little Eye) or tragic (Halloween: Trick or Treat, Muthafucka). I m'self am a big fan of the whole "hot strangers are locked in a room or building and have to eliminate the batshit crazy ones before they drag the ship down with them" subgenre, and if handled well it can be very effective (check out submarine chiller Beneath or the original Cube for a few more positive examples). But it can also be a showcase for bad "watch me go loony!" acting and terribly convoluted plots -- this preview is just vague enough to make me hope for the best without showing much evidence of the worst.

Venom
Okay, kids -- here's how NOT to make a trailer. Take a few genre vets (Kevin Williamson and Jim Gillespie) and a handful of vaguely recognizable actors (Jonathan Jackson, Agnes Bruckner, Bijou Phillips, Method Man), and then cut a trailer that ignores all of them. Instead, include a lot of shots of people standing in the middle of the woods with a vaguely discernable figure standing behind them, tied together with a nebulous line of text that drags on so long between clips that you forget how the sentence started (it also doesn't have any punctuation -- not to get all Strunk and White and shit...). If the snake-skinned villain didn't strike an impressive silouette (those arms!), I'd have clicked on to the next before the halfway point. But maybe this is all they could come up with from their source material -- a little bird tells me that Venom is a complete dungheap anyway...

Doom
Hmm. Okay, liked the shot of The Rock shirtless talking on his Judy-from-Time-Life headset, that was cute... but if as much of this film is done in first-person as the trailer suggests, what's the fucking point?! Isn't that why we have the game? Why bother leaving the house? It reminded me of when you go over to a friend's house and they're all in the middle of a game and you can't jump in and you have to sit there watching them play, which is just about the most boring thing in the world. Unless you're in a K-hole.

Okay, now I get it.

Brokeback Mountain
Okay, it's not horror (unless you're married to a gay cowboy), but I've just got to mention this one here. I can already hear the sound of chaps squeaking together as the gay porn industry scrambles to come up with parodies (Bareback Mountain? Brokeback Mountin'?), and teen girls everywhere are drooling in anticipation of their two ohmygodhe'ssodreamy heroes (Jake Gyllenhall and Heath Ledger) sucking face on a hillside (come on -- the only thing hotter than one teen heartthrob is two teen heartthrobs -- who they're making out with is irrelevant). And though there have been oodles of rumors bandied about how the gay content has been tinkered with/toned down/removed, the trailer makes it pretty darned clear what the film is about. One part A River Runs Through It, one part Making Love, one part the South Park episode about how all indie films are about gay cowboys eating pudding. Kozy Shack, anyone?

HellBent Contest: WINNER! ...and other shit
After a weekend of furious tabulating, breakneck abacus-clicking, and heavy doses of inhaled Ritalin, our bean-counters have determined the winner of the HellBent Contest Gauntlet. To all of you who participated in this admittedly preposterous series of trials, my sincere congratulations. I wish that I had more conceptual art, production materials, and junk from under my couch cushions to share with everyone, but alas -- as in Highlander, "there can be only one". And that one is...

PatrickStillLives.

Congratulations to PatrickStillLives (whose name apparently isn't even Patrick -- the cheek!) for pulling over 30 film titles out of his well-traveled (and -visited) ass in the final round -- he managed to pull ahead of the dastardly Hambone (who even went so far as to send ANOTHER naked photo of himself -- this one NSFW) and sail across the finish line with a staggering 49 points (Hambone followed closely with 47, and Asylum Guard and DOGBALLS tied for 3rd with 37).

While we're on the subject: for those of you who weren't quick enough to nab passes to the HellBent screening on Wednesday in NYC (and if I didn't respond to you directly, I'm sorry, but you weren't a winner -- there were just waaay to many entries for me to get back to!), this week's issue of HX ("Hustler Xtravaganza") Magazine notes that you can swing by Universal Gear on 8th Avenue for passes (they could very well be out by now -- just sayin'). The ad also notes that yours truly will be providing CampBlood.org gift bags to a few lucky attendees. Yaay! Used cat toys for everyone!

New T-Shirt Design, Just in Time for Fall!
Due to the success of the My Boyfriend was Eaten by Zombies and All I Got was this Lousy T-Shirt design, I've whipped up a stripped-down, less verbose, and cheaper version of the shirt for those of you out there who can't bear to display more than 4 words on your chest at a time. It's the Zombies Ate My Boyfriend tee, it's cheap (only $10!), and it would look fabulous stretched across your perky man-bosom.

Check out the CampBlood Merch Store today!

America Loves Them Some Dead Possessed Chicks
Alright -- despite not liking it, I expected The Exorcism of Emily Rose to do well at the box office, just like everyone else did. But $30 million worth? Christ, people -- the runner-up only pulled in $8 million (The 40-Year-Old Virgin) and last week's #1 (Transporter 2 -- yes, I just said Transporter 2) dropped to a measley $7 million. Now, I don't generally comment on box office grosses -- oddly, the last time I did was in the case of the assload that was Dominion: A Prequel to the Exorcist -- but these figures really scare me.

Sure, I should be thrilled by the fact that a horror flick made such a good showing after so many of the summer's genre flicks have tanked. And yes, I should be comforted that this will encourage the studios to keep making horror flicks rather than anything featuring Kevin Costner. But here's why I'm uneasy: there are $30 million worth of moviegoers out there who thought they bought a ticket to a horror movie and were subsequently subjected to a 2-hour episode of Law and Order as reimagined by the PAX television network.

Expect incidents of road rage and reports of domestic violence to be at an all-time high, people -- if I were you, I wouldn't leave the house today.

Zombiepop
A few other sites have already reported this, but it gave me a good chuckle, so definitely check it out: it's a Flash preview for the upcoming game called Stubbs the Zombie in Rebel without a Pulse.

The clip is gory, funny, and gave me wistful remembrances of one of my all-time favorite movies, Night of the Creeps. Enjoy.

HellBent Contest Round 3: Sweet Tapdancing Christ
Okay, when I said that you'd get a point for every movie you listed that takes place on Halloween (but doesn't have Halloween in the title), I didn't expect you freaks to unload dozens of titles on me at one. Criminy! For those of you who have yet to enter, be warned: the bar has been set rather high.

Remember, you've got until sundown tomorrow to enter, and then your chances at winning the swag are lost forever. Mwuahahahahahah!

HellBent Contest Gauntlet: The Final Battle
Okay, kids. We’ve come to the final round of the HellBent Contest Gauntlet, and it’s a doozy. Congrats to the brave combatants who have made it this far – it will take nerves of steel and panties of super-absorbent cotton to make it across the finish line in one bloodied piece. Remember, one lucky winner will walk home with a big basket of HellBent goodies, including exclusive one-of-a-kind production and concept materials; the losers go home with a screaming headache and a size seven poop-chute.

Alright, here it is: HellBent takes place on Halloween (coincidentally my favorite holiday), so we’ve got a multi-part Halloween trial with multi-point answers. So it’s really anyone’s game. And remember: as Hambone taught us, one snapshot of your farter can vault you into the lead in a New York minute. Check out his tie-breaker at the right, rehydrate, and then tackle the questions below. Submissions will be open until sundown on Friday – so get crackin’!

Final Round Questions

1. Name as many horror films as you can that take place on Halloween but do NOT have Halloween in their title (1 point per title).

2. What film are Laurie and the kids watching in Halloween, and why is that funny? (1 point)

3. What actor currently in theatres in The 40-Year-Old Virgin and The Baxter had an early role in a Halloween film? (1 point)

4. Send in a picture of the best Halloween costume ever (yours or otherwise). Our panel of esteemed judges (me and my cats) will grant 10 points to the best costume, 6 to the next, 4 to the third, and 2 to the rest. All submitted pics will be posted with the BigAss Winner Announcement next week.

Now enjoy Hambone’s hambones, and happy playin’!! Email all responses to contest@campblood.org with your leader board name.

Dead Serious Anything But
I got a sneak peak at the vampire-queer-action-comedy-satire-horror flick Dead Serious the other nite, and I have to say I was very pleasantly surprised. It’s hilarious, it’s gory, and it’s set entirely in a gay bar that gets overrun by Christian fundamentalists, terrorists, and the undead. What’s not to like?

The Brooklyn-lensed flick features appearances by genre vet Felissa Rose (Sleepaway Camp), enfant terrible Alan Rowe Kelly (I’ll Bury You Tomorrow), and painfully humpy newcomer Brian Gianci (his character is like the missing gay member of the A-Team). The funny, faggy fright flick starts playing at festivals next month – check back here for screening updates, as well as a full review. And congrats to the cast and crew for a job well done!

For my visit to the bloody Dead Serious set last year, click HERE.

HellBent Screening Passes: No Mas
Christ -- you kids are mad for free movies, huh?! I could post a Photoshop contest with my left nut as the prize and not get a single submission, but I give out a few screening passes and you'd think I was offering hourly slots in Johnny Messner's man-thatch.

Thanks to all of you who threw in for the passes to the screening -- they went very quickly and the giveaway is closed. My sympathies to the winners, who will have to put up with my uncontrollable Sno-Cap-scented flatulence during the movie.

Check back in tomorrow for the rules for Round 3 of the HellBent Contest Gauntlet! It's the home stretch!

Dismissed as Coincidence?
CampBlood "Special" Correspondent Chuckie pointed out the uncanny similarity between drag relic Lady Bunny and genre relic Betsy Palmer (Mrs. Voorhees, don'cha know).

So I ask you: has anyone ever seen these two ladies in the same room?

I thought not.

And You Thought Camel TOE Was Scary...
The pranksters over at Screenhead have linked to what is possibly the most horrifying piece of video available on the Internets (yes, even scarier than Goddess Bunny's tapdance from last week): footage of a camel spider eating a lizard. Enjoy, and then have yourself vacuum-sealed in a Space Bag and put into cold storage for the rest of your heebie-jeebie-fearing existence.

Click HERE for the magic. Arachnophobes, don't be sendin' me your therapy bills.

Dark Water, Indeed
There's really not much to be said about the devastation of the South that hasn't been said already, other than our thoughts and prayer-ishes are with all those affected.

But here are a few links that might help contextualize the disaster for those who are sitting on their dry, non-looted tuffets eating bon-bons and drinking strawberry Fanta:

God Drowns and Displaces Thousands to Prevent Gay Dance Party (thanks, WorldofWonder). Those fundamentalists really got their hearts in the right place, huh?

Production Halted on Vampire Bat Movie of the Week (from Variety). Lucy Lawless without plague of flying pests?

Win Passes to Special Preview Screening of HellBent in NYC!
For some reason, the lovely people behind HellBent have taken a bit of a shine to me. Maybe it's the preposterously complicated contests, gift baskets, and repeated coverage -- I don't know. But for whatever reason, they have been so kind as to provide me with an assload of passes to a special PREVIEW SCREENING of HellBent in New Yawk City, taking place on Wednesday, September 14th at 8:00PM. But it's not just a screening, people: the magically delicious Bryan Kirkwood (he plays the bedroom-eyed rough trade interest) will be in attendance (and perhaps writer/director/tummy-tempter Paul Etheredge-Ouzts will be there as well...), and the screening will of course be followed by lots of sassy cocktails at a local lounge. Anyone who's anyone in the gay horror fanclub will be there -- and yes, that means me and about 3 other very lonely, tired people.

Seriously -- the first 10 folks to send an email to contest@campblood.org will each receive 2 passes to the event. You may even get to sit with yours truly -- if so, I'll totally eat your Milk Duds if you so much as glance the other way.

Hope to see ya there!

Anchorwoman in Peril! No, Really!
It's safe to say that the crazy shit going on in Louisiana right now is waaay scarier than anything playing at our local multiplexes. But that's no excuse for a weatherman to queen out on his anchorwoman! Did we learn NOTHING from Eyes of a Stranger, people?!

Click here for the video...

HellBent Contest: Round 2 Results!
Alright, folks: Round 2 of the HellBent Contest Extravaganza is finished and the results are in, and you won't believe the utter INSANITY that gave the second challenge the white-knuckle intensity of a monkey knife-fight.

Yes, kids: someone actually sent me a naked photo.

So even though previous leader PatrickStillLives cleaned up with 5 correct answers AND got a bonus point for answering first, the insidious and downy-soft Hambone trumped his hand with a nice pic of his shitcan. I'm currently investigating whether or not I can share the scale-tipping pic with all you pervs, so keep in touch.

For those of you who care, here are the answers:

1. Joel Schumacher

2. Brinke Stevens

3. Cybill Shepherd

4. Paganini Horror

5. Anjanette Comer

I'll be announcing the rules of Round 3 later this week -- remember, it's never too late to join. That'll piss off DOGBALLS, won't it?!

Save Thomas Jane
Like many of you, I like to waste much of my productive time frequenting various bitchy, spiteful, and ultimately worthless blogs. Hey, wait a minute...

I was shocked, appalled, horrified, and unexpectedly aroused to find that one of the Inner Sanctum of Buzz's Future Husbands of America and Canada, mister Thomas Jane hisself, was called out on GoFugYourself for a staggeringly poor wardrobe choice. But then it occurred to me: there is something far more sinister at work here than simply a Chess King off-the-rack purchase. Even liquor-basted minds like mine can put two and two together, folks -- and are we really supposed to accept it as mere "coincidence" that Tommy Bahama himself, Bruce Campbell, and the Deep Blue Punisher, Mr. Jane, were both at San Diego ComicCon and now both HAPPEN to be wearing the exact same outfits? They share identical "Oh shit -- not the press!" expressions. I think Thomas has even borrowed one of Bruce's latent chins.

Read between the lines, people. Thomas and Bruce are totally fucking.

Note to the lawyers representing Thomas and Bruce: by saying "Thomas and Bruce are totally fucking", I of course clearly meant that Thomas and Bruce are totally NOT fucking. Now go back to eating puppies.

Hints of Things to Come
Summer's winding down to a close, which means two things: less men in shorts, and more Halloween costumes. You decide which tips the scale. As I enjoy the end of my vacation (just because it's ordered by the State doesn't mean I can't enjoy it, right?), I thought I'd give you a taste of things to come for the next few months...

GenCon Coverage: CampBlood "Special" Correspondent Bub attended this year's GenCon and has the scoops on the biggest things in the horror gaming world -- full report to come in the next few weeks.

HellBent Preview Screening Passes: I've gotten a hold of a number of passes to an exlusive screening in NYC -- check back for details on how you can win a chance to see the flick with yummalicious cast and crew!

Halloween Haunted House Coverage: Buzz hisself will be heading out to Frightland in Delaware for some good old-fasshun scares, and will be reporting on it and other regional haunted house attractions. And of course, the return of the Halloween Costumes from Hell feature -- Year 3!

Reviews, Interviews, and Other Shit: I've got more fancy stuff in the hopper, including an interview with a pillar of the genre that makes me tingle in my dingle whenever I think about it. Plus, ehnanced review coverage, film fests, and more -- in other words, stick around for joy.

Now shut off the damn computer and go get some sun. You look like Edward Fucking Scissorhands...

Reminder: HellBent Contest Round 2
You gots one more day to enter into the second round of the big, badass HellBent Contest -- so get those noodles working on the trivia bits outlined in the post below! I've gotten some feedback that these questions are pretty hard, and good -- there's no such thing as a free ride at CampBlood, people. Oh wait -- I take that back...

If you didn't play Round 1, you can play catch-up through tomorrow (weed through the old posts to learn what it was all about). It's an open field, kids -- anyone can win the exclusive HellBent swag. And remember -- one shirtless self-portrait could skew the results beyond recognition. Don't say I didn't give you a fighting chance.

Sometimes, There Simply Are No Words
Enjoy. Sort of. (thanks to Mr. Disgusting. Again, sort of.)

HellBent Contest Round 1: Winners!
Well, folks – the HellBent Contest Gauntlet is off to a rip-roaring start. We’ve got a few clever readers out there and a few not-so-clever readers – but we here at CampBlood.org have a simple motto: "Stupid babies need the most love".

The three winning entries are below, and the ultra high-tech HellBent Contest Gauntlet Leaderboard is at the right. Swoon in the presence of its statistical power!

First Place: “PUMPKIN 2: Mentally Challenged Bottom Boy in the Slimeball Bowl-a-Rama”*

Second Place: "Anyone else care to sit on my pass around party Pumpkin?"*

Third Place: “Cost of a Cowboyhat: $150; Cost of S&M gear: $325; Cost of seeing your friends open a jar of exploding strawberry jam: PRICELESS!”

Honorable Mention: “Calvary greetings in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I am Mrs Tutu Nwaoko, a widow to Late Edward Nwaoko, I am 64 years old, now a new Christian convert, suffering from long time cancer of the breast.”

* I will note that there were frequent references to Joey, the character played by Pumpkin’s Hank Harris, being a public-access bottom. Might the pot be calling the kettle "bitch"?

HellBent Contest Gauntlet: Round Two!
So round 2 is a Trivia round. Send your answers to contest@campblood.org (along with your leaderboard name) by next Friday, August 26th. Each correct response earns a point, with an extra point for the first person to send in the answers. I’ll also award an extra pity-point for the most disastrously wrong set of answers. Again, naked photos earn extra credit, and possibly cash.

The Questions

1. This filmmaker began his career as a costume designer before he graduated to directing horror. His pre-genre stars have included Mr. T and Martin Balsam.

2. This scream queen did body-double work for the lead nun in a famous cross-dressing killer sequel.

3. Speaking of cross-dressers, the daughter of this famous television actress was reputed to have the longest death scene in history at the hands of a killer tranny (before US censors hacked the scene to pieces) in a pic starring a pre-blonde uptown girl.

4. This near-unwatchable Italian horror flick boasts a lead character inexplicably named after the Beastmaster and features a girl rock band that plays note-for-note ripoffs of Bon Jovi songs.

5. This actress was abducted by an Italian who kept a herd of murderous cats in his castle (in a movie, of course) before playing a kindly social worker with a strange attachment to a developmentally-challenged man in a 1973 cult shocker.

Remember – even if you missed Round 1 (see below for details), it’s not too late to play both rounds and see your name in lights (er, pixels) on the big board. I’m off on a little vaca for a few days, but I’ll be back next week to laugh at your responses. Best of luck to all!

Knee Jerk: August 19th
So this weekend we’ve got 40-year-old virgins and Wes Craven (who’s more like 60, really), and a few minor releases that I just haven’t gotten around to. Actually, I didn’t make it to the 40 Year Old Virgin screening, either – so all I can do is strongly encourage you to go see Red Eye, because it’s fucking awesome. Rachel McAdams is a S-T-A-R and Cillian Murphy is just about as sleazy as they come. Tense, thrilling, wildly funny (on purpose – Wes has quite the sense of humor) and completely ludicrous, it’s a frothy, streamlined bit of hotness. I have heard quite a bit of positive word about the Virgin movie, though – I’ll likely be checking it out myself. If you find yourself in Iowa over the weekend, pop into the movie theatre and we’ll chat.

Comedians Holding Undergrad Degrees
I'll admit that I never read free newspapers. First, you never know who might behind the reportage, and therefore can't be certain what angle they might be taking on the events of the world (I also don't trust the media companies, so I don't read regular newspapers, either -- but that's another column entirely). Second, you never know where that tattered, dirty, occasionally moist stack of Village Voices or Strangers might have been even minutes before you stumbled across it on the street corner. Do you really want to be getting your hands soiled with a homeless person's discarded bedding or a drunk fratboy's urine? Don't answer that last part.

Lastly, I just don't find them that interesting. In my experience, free newspapers are the product of a buch of frustrated j-school grads who couldn't get jobs at regular papers and now spend their every waking moment trying to prove just how much more clever and erudite they are than their well-published (and well-paid) counterparts. You know what? That's what blogs are for, and they don't get ink on your fingers.

But today, for the first time, I picked up a free weekly, the much-maligned New York Press (aka "the other free weekly" in NYC -- or now that the Onion is here, maybe "the other other free weekly"), and it was for one reason and one reason only:

They had the poster art for C.H.U.D. on the front page.

If my scanner weren't on the fritz (i.e., in a plastic bag under my bed), I'd post the front page here, but it's easy enough to describe: it's the classic humanoid-peeking-from-under-a-manhole shot with the tagline "You've Been Warned" underneath. This was far too tempting for my crack-addled little mind to resist, so I picked it up -- and guess what? I was so bored with the story by the halfway point that I didn't finish it. Apparently it's a satire about subway security that argues the existence of C.H.U.D.s, or something -- if you can get through the whole thing, let me know (for those of you not in NYC, you can check out the story HERE).

HellBent Contest Reminder: Round One!
Just a reminder that a diaperload of EXCLUSIVE HellBent goodies is up for grabs for the lucky winner of our HellBent Contest Gauntlet. Sure, a few other sites are offering some standard swag, but I've pulled some serious strings (and pulled...and pulled -- your wrist really tires after a while, don't it?) and gotten a hold of some fantastic production goodies that are just begging to be plucked out of my heavily-muscled yet surprisingly tender arms. Scroll down below to see the first painfully easy contest (posted on 8/15), and remember -- nothing will make you more popular in the lunchroom than your well-earned spot on the contest leaderboard!

The guy currently in the lead is going by the name Dogballs. We just can't let that happen, people.

Red Eye No Brown Eye
Now folks, you know it's not like me to get unduly worked up over anything that doesn't involve Ryan Reynolds is a set of assless chaps. So you can trust that Buzz is speaking from the heart when he shrieks out in pure popcorn-movie glee over the beauty of Wes Craven's Red Eye. People, we have this summer's "shark movie".

Allow me to elaborate. Pull up a chair -- this could take a while. See, back in the midsummer of 1999 (late July, if my crack-addled brain is not mistaken), the cinema gods visited upon us lowly thrill-seekers one of the most unexpected pleasures in summer movie history: a little number called Deep Blue Sea. Now, I don't know if any of you can remember back that far, but the advance word on little old Sea was not exactly stellar. It was helmed by a repeat offender in the Monumentally Bad Idea department (Renny Harlin of Cutthroat Island and I Married a Woman Twice My Height with an Oscar fame); it starred a rapper (back before it was de rigueur); and its premise revolved around genetically altered sharks who could think. Not exactly promising. So when folks like me plopped down a few bucks to get out of the stifling heat, we were expecting a laugh or two, a funny CGI effect, maybe a good nap -- and what we got was a surprisingly lucid and well-made action thriller that far outstretched the sum of its parts. In coming years, my friends and I would eagerly hunt out that year's "shark movie" (thanks, Matthew): that stealth success that had somehow either escaped our radars or had seemed so monumentally ill-conceived from the get-go that we never thought it would make it to the ball with its dress on frontwards.

Kinda like Red Eye. Sure, the premise is catchy and the leads are good, but let's be honest -- a movie that takes place almost entirely on a plane? I'm having Panic Room acid flashbacks already. And let's just say that after the shitstain that was Cursed, Mr. Craven hasn't exactly been on my shortlist of directors to watch.

All I can say for now is that Wes and his kids have pulled it off. Red Eye is fantastically entertaining -- I haven't seen him do such good work since Invitation to Hell. Rachel McAdams is simply the most watchable young actress I have seen in years (Cillian Murphy is good too), and the story is lean, fast, and never confuses what it's there to do: get you across the finish line winded and happy. Sure, there are plot holes big enough to fly a 767 through. Yes, some of it's melodramatic or needlessly blithe, and yes, some of the special effects are atrocious. But Craven works it where it counts, and the result is pure summer movie heaven.

I'll conclude this unscheduled broadcast by jumping up and down and clapping while squealing "omigodomigodomigodomigod!!" Check this one out.

HellBent Contest Kickoff!
I'm thrilled to announce that in addition to the aforementioned HellBent swag that will be bestowed upon one lucky reader (soundtrack, signed poster, etc.), CampBlood.org will be showering the winner with a set of EXCLUSIVE prizes, including a shooting script, conceptual materials, and more. This is fantastic stuff, folks -- and in order to give it its proper due, I'm gonna make you work for it.

So the HellBent contest will be a three-part orgy of breakneck feats, grueling physical challenges, and mind-numbing head-crackers. Okay, it's trivia and stuff. But it's hard!

Here's how it'll work: there will be three challenges over the next 3 weeks. Only the last is time-based, so you can join in at the end, if you'd like. But for those who play from the beginning, I'll be posting a leader board throughout. Whoever ends up with the most points at the finish line gets all the shit. Could it be any easier? Actually, it could -- the judges are easily swayed by nude photos of contestants. Just sayin'...

First HellBent Challenge: Caption Contest

Take a look at the promo still at the right. Isn't it begging for a sassy caption? Come up with something fabulous and email it, along with the name you'd like to be known by on the leader board, to contest@campblood.org. Every entry will receive one point, with extra points going to the 3 best, and a bonus point to the first person to email. You've got until this Friday, when the second game will be announced.

Have fun, kids!

The Knee Jerk: Quick Reactions to the Weekend in Filmland
So this weekend's theatrical rollout is again nothing to crow about, although it does feature one genre pic, Skeleton Key. No, the film is NOT a guide to obtaining Kate Hudson's waifish figure.

Opening
Skeleton Key: I thought this one was going to knock it out of the park (note the butch use of a sports metaphor: spicy!); after all, it's got Ehren Kruger (Arlington Road), Iain Softley (Wings of the Dove), Gena Rowlands (Hysterical Blindness, anything directed by her late hubby John Cassavettes), Peter Sarsgaard (fresh from his full-frontal in Kinsey) and Kate Hudson (...er....). Plus, it's a "spooky old house" movie with voodoo overtones set in the Louisiana bayou, not a location oft used in the genre (er, until The Reaper, which opens in a few months).

Unfortunately, the result is a bit hodgepodgy, and not entirely satisfying. While the first third has some deliciously paranoid -- and creepy -- "what's behind the door in the attic"-type intrigue and pooploads of atmosphere, the mechanics required to make the now-requisite "twist ending" work start clouding up the characters' motivations, the tone, and eventually everything involved. While the twist itself is kind of neat if you take the time to think about it (which most people probably won't), the filmmakers tie themselves in logic pretzels to get to it, at the expense of what started out as a really promising creeper.

Verdict: Worth seeing on a hot day, but no Others.

Chaos: This shameless ripoff of Last House on the Left stretches the idea of "homage" so thin that you could use it to strain a custard. Crass, mean, and utterly without craft, it's just sexual violence for the sake of sexual violence, and manages to make the film it so blithely robs look like a masterpiece of social criticism by comparison (which, um, it's not).

Verdict: Avoid at all costs.

Continuing:
March of the Penguins: Okay, maybe its just because it's as hot and steamy as David Beckham's jockstrap in NYC right now, but this Antartcic love story about the truly mind-boggling mating rituals of the Emperor Penguin melted this bitch's brittle little ice cube of a heart. Only the French could turn the mating of two oily birds into a rapturous love scene -- you have to see it to believe it. And once the chicks appear, looking like giant gumdrops dipped in dryer lint, you'll be a believer.

Verdict: Counter-programming from the Gods.

In Memoriam: Barbara Bel Geddes
Another sad Hollywood passing (of another Hitchcock leading lady): Barbara Bel Geddes died at 82 of lung cancer. Most people likely remember the spunky Geddes for her work as Miss Ellie on Dallas (for which she became the only actress in history to win an Emmy for a nighttime soap), I remember her for her work in two pieces of film that changed my life: Vertigo and the "Lamb to the Slaughter" episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

As Midge, Jimmy Stewart's manipulative, nagging, but lovable "friend plus" in Vertigo, Bel Geddes was mercurial, scheming, and delightful -- and a breath of comic fresh air in what I still find to be one of the most disturbing meditations on romantic obsession ever made. As the heat-of-passion murderer of the Roald Dahl-penned "Slaughter", Geddes slides from desperate housewife to cunning manipulator, all under the watchful eye of the police detective to whom she is serving the missing murder weapon, a leg of lamb. She was a class-act, a plucky, unconventional beauty, and a great credit to the craft.

We at CampBlood.org send our sincere condolences to Ms. Bel Geddes' friends and family.

Scientists Discover Why I Always Seem Stoned
Yes, folks -- scientists at Vanderbilt University (never heard of it -- although it does sound tony, doesn't it?) have discovered that when people see erotic or violent images, they fail to process whatever they see next. The scientists are calling the phenomenon "attentional rubbernecking", or as I like to call it, "consciousness".

Yes, folks -- I may finally be able to attribute my longstanding lack of motivation, attention, and general engagement with the human race to the fact that I look at blood and porn 24/7. Okay, maybe that's exaggerating -- but it does at least explain why when I watch Overboard right after I Spit on Your Grave, I don't even cry when they open the miniature golf course.

For the complete story, click HERE.

Brotherhood of the Woof: Exclusive Pics from The Complex!
Legendary Horror Homo (and friend of CampBlood) Dave DeCoteau dropped a note to let me know that his new Boys-in-Undies (and Peril) masterwork The Brotherhood IV: The Complex is now playing on HERE! TV in the US and on Movie Central in Canada (no, I have no idea what Movie Central is. Actually, I'm not too clear on Canada, either...). And after some gentle prodding, Dave was even so kind as to send me over some EXCLUSIVE pics of the tidy-whitey action that the new film in the witchcraft-themed series has to offer. Suffice to say that the next Harry Potter flick won't feature moments like you see at the right. Click on the image for 3 other hot shots!

For you bastards too cheap for digital cable, The Complex will be out on DVD later this year, no doubt with lots of goodies and one of Dave's entertaining commentaries. Check out RapidHeart's official site for news.

And don't forget to check out my interview with Dave from a few months back -- it's not like you have anything to do at work today anyway...

HellBent Contest!
It's time to start gearing up for the theatrical release of what's being billed as the first gay slasher movie, HellBent -- and what better way to kick things off than with a contest through CampBlood? None, I tell ya!

Details of the contest are still in the works, but I can tell you that the winner will receive bunches of stuff from the fey fright flick, including swag signed by the cast, soundtrack stuff, and more (I'm angling on getting a hold of some of writer/director Paul Etheredge-Ouzts's intimates, but he's being positively Mormon about the whole thing...)! I know those of you who have entered CampBlood contests in the past will be thrilled that the prizes this time around aren't just bits of junk that I picked up under the BQE. But I'm gonna make you work for it, kids -- check back every five minutes until I post the rules, mmmokay?

In the meantime, be sure to stroll over to the movie's official site to check out the trailer (which is totally awesome) and read more about the film, which opens in select cities on September 16th.

I'll be following this one closely, kids, because it's a great flick and a big moment for this tattered little subgenre that we all know and love. Was that a tear? God, must be all the pollen...

The Knee Jerk: Quick Reactions to the Weekend in Filmland
So this weekend's theatrical rollout is pretty paltry, boasting only one major release. This is even more disappointing when you consider that this film is the positively abysmal Dukes of Hazzard.

Opening
The Dukes of Hazzard: Now, don't get me wrong: I love Seann William Scott like a public health inspector loves a well-installed sneeze guard on a salad bar. Even Johnny Knoxville can be kinda sexy every now and again (especially now that he's gotten rid of his "dugout eyes"). But this movie just sucks ass. Incredibly unfunny, crass, and as dissimilar to the original series as you could have gotten without reimagining the Dukes as Hassidim living on a space station, this is the summer's biggest dog thus far.

Now, those of you who actually suffered through Club Dread will not find this news surprising in the least. But the rest of you, run the other way.

In a word: "Dukey".

Continuing:
The Aristocrats: A nice fluffy amusement about incest, butt-sex, and mountains of shit -- all in the name of comedy. While some of the discussion is lively and fun (George Carlin and Whoopi Goldberg are a pleasure), this "documentary" about the worlds dirtiest joke is mostly an exercise in repetetion, redundancy, and saying the same thing over and over. By the time it gets around to the climax (and this is the first time in history that anything involving Gilbert Gottfried has ever been referred to as a "climax"), we've been so steeped in infant-rape and the urine of the elderly that it's just not that funny anymore.

Sure, it has its moments, but I really don't need to see that much Paul Reiser without the aid of barbituates ever again.

Hairy, Potter
One of my secret blog crushes, Goldenfiddle, posted a pic from the set of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Now, I know that these kittens are only supposed to be, like, twelve or something -- but can you deny that the fella playing Victor Krum fills out that wife-beater like a Hungarian soldier? Any boy with that much hair on his legs must have enough grass on the field to play ball... but I'm just sayin'... (click HERE for the full pic)

Ryan Reynolds: Pass Around Party Buddy?
Horror himbo (and President of Buzz's Future Husbands of America and Canada) Ryan Reynolds has abandoned his newfound Final Boy glory and signed up to play a San Francisco cop opposite The Rock in the upcoming buddy movie Blowback. And no, none of that innuendo was added -- it really is Ryan Reynolds and a guy called The Rock, they really are in San Fran in policeman's uniforms, and the title really is Blowback. Expect the headline on Gay.com's entertainment page to read something like, "Ryan Reynolds to Partner with Rock as Frisco Blow Buddy".

Read the full story HERE (thanks, Hollywood Reporter!)

Ready Your Cave for Eddie Cibrian
Besides boasting the second-most anal-innuendo-friendly title of the year (that clearly goes to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), the upcoiming horror flick The Cave has one very strong asset in its favor: studmuffin Eddie Cibrian. You may recognize Eddie from Sunset Beach (unless you have a job) or Third Watch (um, never saw it)... but it's more likely you noticed his chiseled form in But I'm a Cheerleader (he played the hunky gay gardener) or the Holly Hunter flick Living Out Loud (he played the hunky masseuse who kickstarts her kitty).

I could get into the details of what The Cave is all about, but to be honest, I don't really care: suffice to say that whatever it is, it involves Eddie getting wet. A lot. But if you want more info, check out the offical site (with a decent trailer) HERE.

It Takes a Village, People
This is like one of those fake Saturday Night Live commercials come to life, people. Apparently, some genius over at Hawthorne Village -- a company that makes those lovingly hand-crafted, overpriced Christmas village houses and figures that your grandmother likes to collect and display with lots of spun glass "snow" around the holidays -- decided that their key demographic (old women squandering their family's inheritance on chintzy bric-a-brac, and.... well, probably all of you queens) would just LOVE to add Leatherface, Freddy, and Jason to their keepsake collections.

Yes, folks -- bloody mayhem has come to Hawthorne Village (thanks to New Line Cinema), and it's never looked so miniscule and quaint. The image posted on their site is actually very difficult to decipher, but it looks like they've designed a light-up Crystal Lake cabin (complete with a signpost identifying it as such), the Elm Street house (in advanced disrepair) and the Chainsaw family homestead, and two poses each for our murderous fellas (does that Freddy come with his own furnace?!).

Seriously -- this is just about as surreal as horror marketing tie-ins go. What's next -- an Ann Geddes calendar where the babies are dressed up as the killer rats from Deadly Eyes? How about a Precious Moments collection celebrating the characters from Last House on the Left? We're through the looking glass here, people...

Oh, and did I mention that the freakish little dioramas are only $60 a pop? Start hooking now!

Props to the watchdogs at DreadCentral for the eagle-eyed discovery.

I Take It All Back!
Yes, I know that I recommended checking out the long-awaited DVD release of Just Before Dawn that hit shelves this week. And why not? It's a great little flick, it's been really hard to get a hold of, and overall it should be a cause to celebrate.

Then again, I hadn't actually seen the disc. Luckily, CampBlood Operative and all-around swell guy Tintorera Joe picked up the new DVD and was appalled to find that it is an EDITED VERSION of the once-fabulous teens-in-the-woods thriller. Yes, kids, the shitheads at Media Blasters -- or as I like to call them, Meaty Ass Blasters -- have hoodwinked us with an edited version of what was once a very nasty slasher.

DO NOT -- I repeat, DO NOT run out and squander you precious Tina money on this piece of shit! In fact, write a strongly worded letter to Meaty Ass Blasters about how you're mad as hell and you're not going to take any more butchered genre films!

In my defense, I did recommend that you go out and rent the movie, not buy it. So you should only be out a couple of bucks if you listened to me in the first place. And remember: only tourists pay full retail.

(for a real treat, check out this missive from a REALLY angry fan on Amazon. Honey, don't pop a nut!)

More Like "Amityvile"
The fun kids over at DreadCentral posted a whiny little bit about the offical DVD artwork for the Amityville remake, and God love 'em for it -- who the hell does MGM think he is, just slicing off our beloved Alpha Himbo at the neck and giving precious box space to his completely disposable beard (and no, I'm not talking about his facial hair)? Sure, maybe if you turn the cover upside-down and squint at it from across the room you might be able to mistake the trademark evil-house windows for Ryan Reynolds' perfect, radiant nipples -- but it's way too abstract a thrill considering the film itself showcases him bathing and traipsing around Long Island in his pajama bottoms for 80 minutes.

I stand by the far more brilliant artwork of our Poster Contest Winners -- don't hide your light under a bushel, MGM!

Tears on My Pillowman
So I finally got around to seeing the Broadway show The Pillowman -- I say "finally" because it's a damn miracle it took me this long to get to a show featuring scary fairy tales that detail children being dismembered, the evil Governor from Oz, and Billy Crudup being humiliated, tortured, and driven to tears for 120 minutes. Considering the poop that $100 will get you on the Great White Way these days (yes, All Shook Up, I'm talking about you), it was refreshing to see such a dark, funny, and... well, darkly funny show on the big stage: with its graphic and horrifying campfire tales, twisted characters, and decidedly downbeat mood, it's about as far from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang as you can get. If you are a fan of Closetland, Edward Gorey, Shockheaded Peter, Quills, or Jeff Goldblum, definitely check it out.

And why didn't anyone ever tell me that Crudup is about as big as a bug?!

Pretty-Scary Stuff
The lovely ladies of Pretty-Scary are rounding out their month devoted to women horror directors, and yours truly wrote a special column titled Girls Who Like Boys Who Do Boys Like They're Girls to celebrate the odd homoerotic subtext found in many lady directors' work. Bill Moseley of The Devil's Rejects is their Man of the Month, and I'm surprised to say that he's actually quite striking when not saddled with the acoutrement of a hillbilly retard. Anyway, they've always got lossa fun stuffs up over there -- give it a looksie, will ya?

The Search String Report that Dripped Blood
Yes, kids – those zany internet searchers are at it again, typing all sorts of insaniac shit into their Dogpile and Google search windows and seeing where in God’s green acres it leads them. In the cases of the actual, totally satisfactual search strings below, it led them here. Enjoy the insanity – which, for once, can’t be blamed on me directly.

“war of the worlds climax”
Well, I don’t know about you, but when Tom Cruise got sucked into the big anus, I totally spotted.

“hide and seek explanation”
If you want an explanation of the twist, you can find it HERE. But if you want an explanation of why the movie sucked such raw ass, I can’t help you.

“ryan reynolds hairstyle"
I think “just banged in a Montreal alley” is the formal name.

“don’t go to sleep with Valerie harper”
Sage advice. And you should avoid her TVM as well.

“andres garcia fucking”
OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. I think I actually searched for that one myself… in the meantime, read my Tintorera review or head on over to Pretty-Scary.net for my bit on Guys I’d Like to Pork, which has a hot photo of this spicy little chimichanga.

“naked jumprope”
That sounds painful, and it’s certainly nothing that I’d endorse here.

“wet shiny lip gloss”
You’re in luck!

“hot California girls in wet t-shirt contest”
Um, yeah… you must have taken the wrong turn at Albequerque…

“dancing hamburger”
This deranged individual was looking for info on Mind Over Murder, a truly unforgettable Made for TV Movie starring Deborah Raffin and… um… well, I forget. But she enters as a dancing hamburger, and that’s really the important thing.

“keeping gay mans anus fresh”
SEE?! There IS something going on!! I’d recommend Tupperware – tried and true.

“harry and the hendersons movie lines”
Whoever you are, you’re a fucking loser.

“is lance bass gay?”
Does a frog have a watertight ass? Well, I’d bet that’s more than we can say for Lance.

“rob estes sex”
I’m gonna guess male? But don’t quote me.

“tara reid no makeup”
This may be a horror site, but there are limits.

“pictures of hot cross buns”
This aspiring bakesmith likely went innocently searching for photos of perfectly-shaped, well-raised breads and landed here because of my obsession with Gene Davis’s shitcan in my review of Ten to Midnight. You can thank me later, Martha.

“i desire david naughton”
As do I. And you can read about his Made for TV vampire disaster HERE.

“how do you say self injury in French”
I think it’s “Je suis Canadian”

“gayest man alive”
Easy: Karl Lagerfeld. Oh, wait – you said “alive”…

“Aunt Nellie I’ll take care of your hardon”
Thanks, sweetie – but I asked you never to call me that in mixed company.

“dakota fanning heroine rehab”
I don’t know what’s funnier: the idea of little Dakota uncontrollably spouting out her lines from Uptown Girls as three burly orderlies pin her spasming, detox-suffering body to a hospital table, or the fact that this moron can’t spell “heroin”.

“betty rubble molested”
“…by Dino”.

“i would like yo know about the tongue slapping method of playing the harmonica”
Sorry, pal – when I mentioned “harmonica method”, I was talking about an entirely different instrument.

“jennifer aniston’s bed wetting”
Hey – you would too if you caught Leprechaun on cable and realized your eyebrows looked like sleeping ferrets.

“why are british men so fucking hot”
Or even better, “Oy, guvna – why’s me bottom on fire?”

“espadrilles with close toe and low heels”
Oh thank GOD – and here I thought I was the biggest queen in the room…

“reviews on wee wee pads”
Hey – if you don’t like ‘em, don’t read ‘em. But letting your dog piss on my prose is just… too appropriate… (I think they wound up here because of this review of Ginger Snaps: Unleashed)

“american psycho is set in the 80s when drugs in clubs shoulder pads and murder were the new fad”
Um… thanks.

“death by zit”
Yaay!

“beyonce’s fillings”
Oh, that’s easy: raspberry crème, vanilla custard, and rum-raisin.

“storage for little girls”
I keep mine in a cool, dark cabinet – you can also toss in a sliced half-apple to keep them fresh.

Scared Shirtless
These are the guys that the k-holed, incredibly lonely people of the Interweb are hoping to see shirtless this month:

Cillian Murphy
Evan Farmer
Matthew Marsden
Andrew Stevens
Jay Mohr
Matt Keeslar
Andrew Levitas
Joey McIntyre
Bradley Cooper
Johnny Messner
Patrick Fugit
Nick Stabile
Dylan Fergus
Sean Faris
Myles O’Brien
Ryan Phillipe
Mike Rowe
Dominic Purcell
Ryan Reynolds
Christopher Knight
Shawn Reeves

The Knee Jerk: Quick Reactions on the Weekend in Filmland
Introducing a new featurette here, kids (it’s like a feature, only in pearls and gloves): since I can’t get around to reviewing everything I see (what with my brother and the whole mail-fraud thing…) and a lot of what I see isn’t horror-related, I’m starting a new bit called the Knee Jerk, in which I share my unsolicited thoughts on the weekend’s films in quick, easy-to-swallow-even-with-acid-reflux pieces. This weekend’s shizz:

Opening
The Island: Starts off well enough, hits its stride with a really kickass action sequence, and then veers off the tracks entirely for about 40 tedious minutes. Despite recent press reports to the contrary, Scarlett Johansson does NOT let her “girls” out for air, which dismayed me enormously; otherwise I can’t tell if I find it refreshing or incredibly creepy that she’s taken to being a walking blow-up doll like a fish to water. In all, not bad, but no Batman Begins.

The Devil’s Rejects: Yesterday's stale ass. Read my review for more.

The Bad News Bears: Didn’t go. Billy Bob Cars-on-Blocks and a bastardized sports-comedy classic? I’d rather eat glass.

Continuing:
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Fun, gorgeous, and slyly subversive. Go just to see the squirrels and Veruca Salt’s drunk mom.

Batman Begins: See it again, for the first time -- the script and direction are as stunning as ever. And how can you not want to see wee Cillian Murphy bugging out again?

War of the Worlds: Get over the Cruise-aziness of the headliner and go -- Dakota Fanning and the extreme bitchslap that Steven Spielberg serves the entire human race are totally not going to play as well on video.

Amityville, the Beat-off Edition
So I’m proud to announce the winner of the first CampBlood.org Poster Contest, but I’m sad to say that the poor response to this particular physical challenge has essentially sealed its fate as the ONLY CampBlood.org Poster Contest (you kids seemed to much prefer the Trivia contest last fall, perhaps because you can click through trivia without having to put down your cocktail).

But regardless, I’m delighted to announce the winners, whose works are certainly an improvement over the theatrical posters for the Amityville Horror remake due to their paying proper attention to the assets of the film’s star (and the absentee president of Buzz’s Future Husbands of America and Canada), Ryan Reynolds. Big CampBlood.org congrats to Jorge G., who will receive a Devil’s Rejects swag-pack (t-shirt, patches, stickers, soundtrack, and more), a Skully T-shirt, and an Amityville Whore coffee mug. Runner-up Charles O. will receive a Skully T-shirt and an Amityville Whore coffee mug.

Jealous? Don’t be – you can buy your own mug (and many other homo horror delicacies) by heading over to the Swag Shop.

To view both entries in all their fuzzy-nippled Canadian glory, click HERE.

Do Your Part: Become a CampBlood Deputy!
Be the coolest queer in your shitty little one-horse town (I know I am) by becoming a CampBlood Deputy! In case you hadn’t guessed, our twisted little niche isn’t exactly US Weekly material, and most folks hear about the site through word-of-mouth (or by typing “sluts smothered in gravy” into Google). So help CampBlood flourish by spreading the word in your community (read: sanitarium): send me your name and address and I’ll send you a Deputy Pack filled with postcards (the new Slumber Party art) to drop at local bars and film-places, a fancy button for you, and whatever my cat has killed and brought in from the garden this week. I’ll obviously not share any addresses or names anywhere – I wanna keep you all to m’self! (Equal opportunity – heteros blithely encouraged to apply).

Interested? Send me an email and we’ll talk turkey. If you’ve been a Deputy in the past and are interested in doing it again, drop me another note – I was really drunk and totally lost your number. Seriously – I’ll call you!

ComicCon 2005: The Final Chapter
CampBlood.org "Special" Correspondent Chuckie wraps things up with some Doom, Narnia, Sleestacks, and Pussy. I realize that this final installment is a day late, but Chuckie was detained overnight by JFK airport security for trying to smuggle the entire cast of The Fog in his anal cavity. Silly Chuckie, that's what carry-ons are for!

Click HERE for the rapture.

Chuckie Stalks Brinke Stevens, Eats Corn Dog
CampBlood.org "Special" Correspondent Chuckie continutes to slather hickory-smoked barbecue sauce on San Diego and dig in like an inmate at a prison cookoff: this update features yet more wallpapered Bruce Campbell, the new Night Stalker, the Fog remake, Superman Returns, and tons more! Slide on over HERE for the naughty bits...

Chuckie Still Alive at ComiCon, Completely Unmedicated!
Chuckie checked in with more goodies from Day 2 at ComicCon, and you won't believe what he's seen -- Bruce Campbell uses the toilet! Rachel Weisz likes bad music! And... well, click HERE for the report...

Get Chucked Up : An Exclusive ComicCon Report!
Somehow, CampBlood "Special" Correspondent Chuckie made it through airport security and landed in San Diego before they had time to seal all arrival gates (let's just hope they gave him a good de-lousing on the plane, shall we?). And lo and behold, the little bugger has sent the first of his interim reports, giving us exlusive dish on what's going on in the world of horror, comics, movies, and people who still watch Star Trek and play role-playing games (read: "Your Waiter this Evening").

Chuckie will be providing dish throughout the event, so check back every 5 minutes -- but first click HERE to see some exclusive glimpses of Clive Barker's new children's series (?!?!), find out how to get into Bruce Campbell's pants, and more...

Brewster's Tens of Thousands
So big news this week: apparently, Jordana Brewster has been hand-plucked from ongoing near-obscurity to play the Final Girl in the upcoming Texas Chain Saw Massacre prequel, Leatherface: The Oxy Years. While I poke fun at her (hey -- that's my job), I actually don't really mind Brewster a bit -- she was fine as the bitchy brunette in The Faculty, she looked fine on Derek Jeter's arm, and she did a great job as the oddly orange and strangely Demi-Moore-like evil lesbian in D.E.B.S. (whose lesbian director, Angela Robinson, went on to bring us the tour-de-force Herbie: Fully Loaded).

I was actually a big fan of the original remake (does that even make sense?), and director Johnathan Liebesman's first feature, Darkness Falls, didn't totally suck, as most people would have you believe (give it another shot -- it's actually got some good stuff in there), and the addition of Brewster is, to me, even further encouragement. Color me intrigued.

Chocolate Star
You may be entertaining the idea of going to see Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory this weekend -- and I'd say, "go for it". Johnny Depp is completely off-the-wall as the enigmatic Willy Wonka (although he's less enigmatic than ever, considering that they gave him a backstory this time around), the production design is impeccable, and the sense of humor is so dry it could catch fire if you brushed against it wearing a pair of cords. I can't say I necessarily loved it, but then again, it's a kid's movie and I'm a pickled old bitch -- I'm lucky I found it amusing at all. High points: anal-retentive squirrels, Missi Pyle, Grandpa Joe's dance, Veruca's drunk mom.

Slumber Parties are for Sissies... Yaaaaay!
I'm as excited as a frog in a pressure-cooker to unveil to you the first ever CampBlood.org Poster, which depicts several buff hotties in the throes of what looks to be a beautifully bloody pillow-party. Can you spot the pass-around-party-bottom? How about the world's gayest boardgame? This tribute to all that is unholy in the homo horror universe (heavy on the queer classic Slumber Party Massacre) should by all rights grace the bedroom walls of every horny 16-year-old (oops -- I mean 18-year-old) homo horror fan in the known world, as well as we dirty old men who frequent Varsity swim meets despite knowing no one on the team.

To buy a poster (in one of three form-fitting sizes), head on over to the Swag Shop.

Well-intentioned but limp-wristed high-fives to Andy Swist, the master illustrator behind this brilliance and the hotter-than-hell Valentines we featured earlier this year.

Last Exit to Amityville: Poster Contest Last Call!
So don't forget to enter the latest CampBlood.org contest, which asks you to transform the promo materials for Amityville into an effigy to Ryan Reynolds' man-cleavage. Simply whip up cover artwork for the upcoming DVD release of the remake (which hits streets in September) paying due attention to the attributes of its main attraction and email the shit to contest@campblood.org. The winners will be selected based on my patented Ryan Reynolds Hotness Wand and announced next week -- and t-shirts, vintage horror posters, and swag from recent horror releases will be showered upon the best artists (c-mon -- you know you want a Devil's Rejects t-shirt...). You've got until midnight tomorrow, sponges -- don't let me down! And I mean that literally!

Ryan's Nipples Still Frightfully Underused
A reminder that the CampBlood.org Poster Contest -- in which you, the viewer, whip up a design for the Amityville remake DVD that pays due attention to the admirable assets of its star and my future husband, Ryan Reynolds -- is still open for submissions. The deadline is Thursday, punks -- so get Photoshoppin'!

See the post below (for 7/6) for full rules and details.

ComicCon to Ride You Hard, Put You Away Wet
The lineup for this year's ComicCon is simply stunning, folks: multiple appearances by Patron Chin Bruce Campbell; uber-hottie Rachel Weisz; previews of Tim Burton's Corpse Bride; alpha-homo Bryan Singer and his new Superbottom; Buffy creator Joss Whedon; the voluptuous horror of Tenacious D; previews of the new Night Stalker series; small-screen drool-fodder Ben Browder; Blade: Trinity-babymomma David Goyer; little Peter Dinklage; and much more. Plus, in terms of actual film screenings, the programmers have assembled a sort of Colt Model hoedown with Hellboy, Blade: Trinity, and The Punisher screening back-to-back on Friday nite -- what more could a boy want? There are also a bunch of shorts screening, including the excellent Silvergleam Whistle (which I rhapsodized about here) and the amusing zombie comedy Snow Day, Bloody Snow Day, which is the only zombie movie I've seen that features kung-fu news interns. Plus, CampBlood Final Boy Chuckie will be wandering around making googly-eyes at anything in a tight pair of jeans and handing out some merch -- if you spot him, grab his ass and demand your due.

Dark Water: You're Soaking in It!
I'm sure this is no surprise to you, but Dark Water is a bit of a mess. A dank, wet, stale, kind of stanky mess, to be precise -- besides the obvious similarities to the American remake of The Ring Two (which was directed by Hideo Nakata, the director of the original Japanese Dark Water -- who also directed the original Ring 2, and who apparently had no issues with stealing every scene from the original for his American debut -- I know, it's like those Russian doll things...), it's just a flat-out depressing heap of a film. I don't know who the hell had the bright idea to release this relentless, joyless meditation on the brutality of single motherhood in the middle of the summer -- calling this movie "counter-programming" is like calling a K-hole a cat-nap. But regardless, there it is, and I felt it was my duty to give you a heads-up that if you're looking for something fun or thrilling, you should probably steer clear of the puddles.

Starring the very watchable Jennifer Connelly (and co-starring her eyebrows, as usual), the flick is such a re-tread that you'll feel you've seen it before -- although the Kramer vs. Kramer drama around the custody battle is very disturbing and well-done, the ghost story feels like badly-applied canned frosting on a big, wet cake.

Yes, But What About Brunch?
Folks who are going to this year's ComicCon (CampBlood "Special" Correspondent Chuckie will be providing his inspired coverage yet again) will have the added treat of being able to check out one of the better horror-comedies I've seen in a while, the zombie slapstick musical comedy Dead and Breakfast. Filled with gore, legitimately funny physical comedy, and cute people (Jeremy Sisto, Gina Phillips, not to mention a cameo by Portia de Rossi), the flick is a surprisingly good time and definitely worth checking out. Check out Dread Central's blurb for info on how to get tickets (the show's next Friday the 15th at 10pm).

Dazed and Confused
A friend over at ScreamKings Productions dropped me a line to tell me that their new movie, a retro-80's slasher called Camp Daze, is finished and screening in several cities over the next few months. I've seen clips of the flick, and it's a straight-up homage to the short-short and headband-wearing summer camp bloodbaths of old -- I'm excited to see the finished product. In case you're not familiar with ScreamKings, they make EXTREMELY homoerotic slashers packed with yummy boys and gobs of red stuff -- this stuff makes Dave DeCoteau's films look like Seventh Heaven (not that that's a bad thing -- love ya, Dave!).

Anyway, the clever plot of Camp Daze involves a set of thoroughtly modern teens who get lost on a road trip and stumble upon Camp Hiawatha, which is stuck in 1981, where it was closed after a set of horrific murders. Apparently the kids of Hiawatha are forced to relive the last night of their lives over and over for eternity, unless the kids from the present can help break the curse -- without getting skewered themselves in the process. Great idea -- can they pull it off? Check it out yourself to see...

The first screening is next Wednesday, July 13th in Cambridge, MA at the Kendall Square Cinema, at 9pm (you can call the theatre at 617-499-1996 for more details). Screenings in LA, NYC, and other cities to follow. For more on Camp Daze (including a fun trailer) and the other ScreamKing movies, check out their official site.

Methinks the Lutz Doth Protest Too Much
So you have likely heard by now that the honest-to-god George Lutz (whose struggles with demon possession were so aptly depicted in both versions of The Amityville Horror) is actually suing the producers of the 2005 remake, charging them with defamation of charater. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think George may have had a clue that the filmmakers were going to paint him as a bit of a "loose cannon" from the get-go, considering as there have been books and another movie already made documenting his descent into madness -- in fact, George has all but made his name and livelihood thanks to it, if I'm not mistaken.

But my good friend Tintorera Joe has his own ideas as to why George was so miffed about the remake: Ryan Reynolds made him look gay. Yes, apparently not all working-class men like to be immortalized in the form of a buff, fuzzy-titted himbo with a perfect set of abs and an ass you could crack walnuts in. Perhaps Lutz would have been more comfortable had a more suitably realistic actor been cast in the role -- my money says that he'd have been over the moon with Ray Romano.

Contest: Ryan Reynolds Needs Your Lovin'!
Speaking of our favorite Final Bottom, I've decided to give you pervs an excuse to play with your lovingly-Photoshopped likenesses of our patron saint Ryan Reynolds and run the first ever CampBlood.org Poster Contest. Now, this isn't a poster FOR CampBlood, mind you (although there is a delicious new one on the way, mwuhahahaha!) -- it's your chance to act as the voice of the Screaming Queen community in the lead-up to the release of Amityville on DVD. The poster for the film, while atmospheric and classy, completely lacked any sort of specific appeal to the Homo Horror community. Give Ryan's nipples their fair due!

Feel free to use any images you like from Amityville, your personal Ryan Reynolds collection, other horror movies, or even porn -- just make sure it's a poster that could fit into a DVD sleeve. Email to contest@campblood.org by the deadline of Thursday, July 14th. That's a full week, kids -- get 'shoppin'!

The top 3 winners (based on my personal, entirely scientific and completely NSFW Ryan Reynolds Meter) will win CampBlood.org t-shirts and other goodies, some of it actually not complete shit from the bottom of my closet. I mean, collectibles! Collectibles!!

Celebrate Independence Day By Buying My Shit
It's been a while since I plugged my little Swag Outlet, so step back -- I wouldn't want to injure anyone.

CampBlood.org is made possible by Viewers Like You.

No, that's not it...

Do you want to make more money? Of course, we all do!

Shit -- not... quite... right...

Help me feed my rapidly hardening liver and crippling Herpacin addiction by buying something from my Merchandise Shop. CampBlood merch will advertise your horrificness to other hot fags in your neighborhood, and make you look 10 pounds lighter (most of it due to blood loss). With tanks, tees, muscle-shirts and more, you can't lose! Use the code LOLSAV when you check out and save $3 on all apparel items -- including intimates! tee-hee!

Don't Cry for Me, Lower Jones Beach
I know I've been a bad Buzz the past few days, not pouring any horror Zima down your thirsty, depraved gullets -- but I have good reason: I was in the Bahamas. Now, in case I haven't mentioned it before, Buzz ain't exactly a beach girl. Not because I don't look smashing in a swimming costume, mind you -- more because I bore very easily and am horrified of marine life of all sorts. So when I headed down to Nassau, I was expecting that there would be plenty of other thrilling cultural activities to keep me busy.

Was. I. Fucking. Wrong.

In case you've ever considered going to the Bahamas, don't. It's essentially a trashy Jersey Shore town plopped into the middle of a sparkling ocean and populated by gnarly German tourists and incredibly annoying American college students. Yes, they are admittedly delicious to behold from afar, especially when they play sand volleyball in their wet board shorts. But still, any island that proudly boasts a Senior Frog's and such things as Dress to Impress Moonlight Cruises is certainly not the kind of place that discerning pansies like ourselves would choose to frequent, right? Right. The island's main trade is tourism; as a result, the town is choked with Domino's Pizzas, Sbarro's, and other crappy American castoffs imported to keep the pasty invaders happy. And local cuisine and products are curiously hard to come by -- if I wanted to spend my time in a different country drinking Gatorade, I'd do it in my living room, where it didn't cost $4.50 a bottle.

And did I mention that I was down there to interview Johnny Depp? That boy look goooooood...

Anyway, I'll be better, I promise. Please love me.

Cruise the Sith Lord
I almost hate to feed into the already considerable leviathan of loathing that is lumbering toward our beloved Joey Potter and her new jackhammer, Jerry Maguire, but this is just too fucking funny to ignore: click here.

It's hypnotic, people -- be sure to schedule time away from your screen at least every 25 minutes.

Grant Me This, Willy
By now you might have noticed that I have a total hard-on for Lee Grant. Whether it be airplane crashes (Airport '77), "killah bees" (The Swarm), Michael Ironside stealing her jewelry (Visiting Hours), a fat daughter into the Dark Arts (The Spell) or the son of Satan himself (Damien: Omen II), there was absolutely nothing that Grant's muffin-top hairdo couldn't conquer. But I caught the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory the other day, and something nagged at me the whole time: sure, I'd read that Johnny Depp was channeling Marilyn Manson and looked like Michael Jackson with his alarmingly psychotic update of Willy Wonka (which I found delightful, btw), but there was something else... when Wonka emerged from the factory in his velvet finery, sensible chin-length bob and glamorous bug-eye shades, didn't he resemble a certain thin-lipped starlet of days gone by?

I'm just sayin'...

Murder on the Dancefloor
If you're anything like me (and I hope for the sake of your therapist that you're not), you're at this very moment in a state of absolute, blood-chilling shock over tonite's voting off of Rachel Hunter from ABC's trainwreck-in-glittered-heels, Dancing with the Stars. I'll admit that I really had no opinion whatsoever of Stacy's Mom going into this ridiculous competition, but her determination and poise on the dancefloor won me over instantly and she consistenly delivered the most polished and technically assured performances. The fact that obvious loser-to-be Joey McIntyre wasn't even in the bottom 2 this week (in fact, the bottom 2 were the top-voted couples according to the judges) should be yet another indicator to me that I should just move my ass to Canada now while Ryan Reynolds is still in good enough shape to carry me over the threshhold. Honestly, people -- what were you thinking?!

Yes, I really need to get out more.

No Cumming for Brett Ratner
From IMDB (um, yesterday... I've been busy!):

Scottish actor Alan Cumming has stunned his fans by announcing his retirement from the X-Men franchise. Cumming, who appeared in the series' second installment, will not be reprising his role as popular mutant Nightcrawler in X-Men. A posting on the actor's site reads, "Alan will not be appearing in X-Men 3. Fox has not picked up his option to play Nightcrawler for a second movie." A publicist for Cumming has confirmed the announcement. MTV News reports Cumming had earlier insisted he would be in the third movie, and director Brett Ratner declared "everybody" would be returning earlier this month. The movie begins filming this summer in Canada, with Hugh Jackman, Halle Berry and Patrick Stewart reprising their leading roles.

I don't know what's less surprising about this: the fact that Alan Cumming wouldn't jump at the chance to work with Napoleonic fratboy-from-hell Brett Ratner, or that Alan Cumming has fans. No, I kid... seriously -- this is good news, as it frees Cumming up to make The Anniversary Party 2: More of My Pretentous Friends Playing Themselves.

(wait -- did that sound bitchy?)

Let Sleater-Kinney Entertain You
I seldom comment on music here, but every now and again an album comes along that is so dick-slapping good that it just begs to be discussed -- such a record is the new Sleater-Kinney outing, The Woods. Now, I've loved this queer-friendly (they're 1/3 gay, at last checkin), politically outspoken trio of rocker-chicks for years, but The Woods is simply fucking awesome. Branching out from their standard stripped-down singalong jams into decidedly ass-shaking psychedelic rock territory (and wait -- was that a harmonica I just heard?), the lovely ladies of S-K have created a modern masterpiece of fuzzed-out, mind-blowing brilliance. When I heard the ladies play their new songs on New Years Eve, I was curious and confused (I'm still not sure that Madison Square Garden with The Flaming Lips and Wilco on New Years Eve is the best place to play all new, unheard material), but now I'm fucking sold, yo. Totally check out their website for more on the band and the record.

I challenge anyone to make it through the last 30 seconds of "Entertain" at full volume without their testicles exploding.

Haunted by the Fruit of Another
So I just finished the latest Chuck Palahniuk gorefest, Haunted, and I still honestly haven't decided whether I liked it or not. As a collection of some of the most disturbing short stories I've ever come across, it's a success: most of the tales are at least strange enough to hold your interest, and a few of them are downright genius, particularly the jaw-dropping sex-doll nightmare Exodus and the scathing gender-aggression lesson Speaking Bitterness. But as a "reinvention of the horror novel", it's more of a head-scratcher than a flat-out success, although there are a few delicious moments throughout. Sure, we've all read about how the first story, Guts, has been making people pass out or vomit across the country, but it's honestly so tongue-in-cheek that it doesn't register as all that disturbing. That was my problem the whole way through, actually -- the characters are so detached from reality (they even call each other by Canterbury-Tales-ish titles like Baroness Frostbite and Saint Gut-Free) that when they start lopping their own digits off, it's like watching Tom and Jerry bash each other with mallots. Remember how American Psycho walked the line between satire and horror before shoving you off into the abyss for the last 100 pages? Haunted walks the line the entire book, never getting to the truly dark place that its characters (and you) long for. Without any catharsis (either for them or for us), it's an assemblage of clever, misanthropic, and highly unpleasant stories strung together by a so-mean-it-wears-thin wrapper that can't hold together under the weight of its own apathy.

Anyway, I mention this because, as you may or may not remember, Chucky P was famously "outed" by Entertainment Weekly (sort of) a few years back, so I thought I'd bring him into the circle. Haunted is chock-full of cross-dressers, lesbians, and men who stick things up their butts, so it's really no surprise that it's the work of some sort of deviant (and really -- isn't his Fight Club just the gayest thing EVER? Try telling that to the 18-year-old straight boys who are obsessed with it. And then try again after a few beers.). Haunted is the third book in Chuck's "horror trilogy", after Lullaby (which is odd but creepy) and Diary (which I didn't read).

Get a Load of Mancini
I know most of you slags wouldn't wander over to the Features page unless I was promising video of Johnny Messner doing nude pilates drenched in chocolate syrup, but let me encourage you to hop on over to see what is one of the most exiciting interviews to grace these fine pages to this day -- yes, despite the fact that I trashed his latest film, Child's Play creator and all-around good guy Don Mancini was gracious enough to share with me his thoughts on the industry, the genre, and other nifty stuff.

I am seriously thrilled to offer this delicious bit of insight to you folks -- head on over to bask in the wit, the wisdom, and the wonder. Oh, and one more thing -- he's super-cute. Heyyyy -- watch the shoes!! Animals...

Okay, So Now it Rhymes with 'Wurst"...
As in "sausage", yes. So if you read my review of Wes Craven's 24-frame-per-second trainwreck Cursed, you know that I didn't have much love for the watered-down, messy, and monumentally un-scary film that made it to screens after years of studio fiddling. Well, like an idiot, I went out and rented the Unrated Version (oh, the bullets I take for you, my chilluns...), and while the added gore and swearing make it marginally more interesting, it's still a shaky piece of work.

The added half-Shannon at the close of the car crash scene is pretty awesome, to be honest -- that alone would have made the movie worth seeing in the first place. But where's the gore in the Mya attack? It's exactly the same as the PG-13 version. The final confrontation is also much more satisfying, especially for those who never forgave Pacey for whisking Joey off on that boat when he knew that Dawson wasn't over her yet.

In all, it's a definite improvement, but still nothing to -- wait for it -- howl about. Ain't I a stinker?!

Jason, Bare
Thanks to the little minx over at Goldenfiddle for posting a link to one of the most delicious photoshoots known to man -- in these pics, Grudge hottie Jason Behr basically invites us predatory homos to slide our credit cards through his asscrack and take him for a drive to Happy Ending Land. Click HERE for the naughty bits, and then go clean your dirty self. You're shameful. Really.

Batman Began
So I caught the new shameless publicity stunt to further Katie Holmes’s romance with Tom Cruise -- Batman Begins -- and I gotta say I liked it quite a bit. The origin-story approach is well-rendered and inventive, the action is very exciting, and Scarecrow is SCARY. In fact, wee Cillian Murphy nearly struts away with the film right under the earnest Christian Bale’s nose (DOA Liam Neeson doesn’t even make a bid for it - he’s apparently not interested in walking away with anything but a paycheck), even though Bale's numerous shirtless scenes more than make up for his otherwise lackluster performance (that boy is FIT, yo...). Joey Potter actually does pretty well - she’s certainly all grows up here, and I liked her more than I expected. Yes, the first 30 minutes are intolerably dull (Bruce Wayne in Tibet… yawn…)... but once the spoiled little shit makes it back to Gotham with a chip on his shoulder and a newfound love for theatrical fighting, things get real fun, real fast - and the movie ends on such a high note that it’ll leave you
excited for what’s next.

The only thing missing? A newly-minted Batman stepping off his slab, looking to the heavens, and screaming, “Nooooooooooooo!”. Oh, and Tom Cruise. Always Tom Cruise.

The Minor Fall, The Major Lift
I haven't gotten too excited about the news in horror-land so far this week, so I decided I'd let you all in on another one of my dirty fetishes:

People falling.

Yes, folks -- people falling are funny ("is funny"? Fuck it...). Second only to people getting hit in the head (the apex of comedy), people falling down going "boom" is just about as hilarious as it gets. Seeing as how there has been a bumper crop of funny falls lately (lately meaning "in the past 3 years" in Buzz language), I thought I'd take this opportunity to give you something to laugh at as you suffer through your day.

Enjoy, and don't say I never did anything for you. Bitches.

Kelsey Grammar Falls at Disney World

Grape-Stomping Newslady Takes a Swanner (this one is actually really disturbing, particularly when they replay her moaning in slow-mo at the end)

Destiny's Child's Michelle Wipes Out (too bad it wasn't Kelly, riiiiiight?)

Biker Falls Onto Building (well, he kind of jumps, but gravity doesn't discern, right kids?)

Woman Falling Through Trapdoor (um, ouch...)

Unsafe Sex (NSFW)

Falling Nun

Okay, he doesn't fall, but this fag is my new fucking hero.

Travis

East Coast/West Coast, Beeotch!
In my eternal quest to bring the Least Coast and the Worst Coast together in a big, wet, dirty-touchin' bear-hug (effectively smashing the flyover states between groins, chests, and bellies), I thought I'd pass on a few upcoming happenings in both ends of our great country.

Los Angeles
This weekend, the beautiful Burbank Hilton is playing host to the Fangoria Weekend of Horrors, which boasts such guests as Rob and Sheri Moon Zombie, Robert Englund, Wes Craven, Tobe Hooper, Jennifer Tilly, and many more. I know all you kids are already planning on going just to try to score a stray hair off Bruce Campbell's collar so that you can clone him in your basement and use him as your sex slave. But while you're there, you simply must check out The Silvergleam Whistle, a spooky, clever short film about a ghost train that swept away my vote for Best Short at last year's New York City Horror Film Fest (check out my coverage and write-up HERE). Kids, ghost trains, and Patty McCormack (yes, the Bad Seed herself, in a delicious role as the aged proprietor of a creepy hotel) -- what more could you want? Oh, right... pills.

The Silvergleam Whistle plays on Sunday June 5th at 2:30pm in the Director's Room of the Hilton, and does NOT require admission to the convention itself. Check it out, slugs!

New York
Over on the less friendly but decidedly edgier side of the country, Newfest (The New York City Gay Cook, Lesbian Thief, Bisexual Wife, and Her Transgendered Lover Film Festival) kicks off tonite with the promise of lots of poorly-made romantic comedies and plenty of documentaries about porn. I of course mean this as a compliment. The shiniest star in this particular Gaylaxy is certainly the gay slasher pic Hellbent, which screens on June 10th at 10:15 at the Loews State Theatre. Coming in at an admirable second is Kiki and Herb: On the Rocks, which plays a few times in the program. A moment of silence for them both...

Hi, Tension! Bye, Tension!
So the French flick High Tension (renamed -- and dubbed -- in American for it stateside release, lest we retards not "get" the whole "French" thing) opens next week, and I wanted to both direct your attention to my review of it (which has been on the site for a year) and issue 2 warnings:

1) In my review, I do give away the "twist" ending of the film

2) Yes, the "twist" is also retarded.

Seriously, the whole lame surprise at the end ruined the whole thing for me. BUT, if you want to go to the movie fresh and not be tainted by my insidious opionions, don't read the review. And take a 40 of Mad Dog with you -- you'll need it. As a side note, my review is of the uncut French release (Haute Tension, don'cha know), but honestly, the cuts made for the US version were minimal, and if you can sit through any Italian Voiceoverfests from the 70s, you won't mind the dubbing.

Still curious? You can check out the review HERE.