Children Shouldn't Play Doctor with Dead Things!

Zoe Daelman Chlanda in I'll Bury You Tomorrow

Here's a little Horror Movies 101 for the chilluns in the room: How does a horror filmmaker know when he or she has officially "arrived"? When a nutbag necrophile name-drops you in a trial as inspiration for his attempts to rape a corpse!

Of course, non-consensual sex with a dead body is no laughing matter. Just ask Catherine Zeta-Jones. But when a 23-year-old graverobber from Wisconsin used my dear friend Alan Rowe Kelly's film I'll Bury You Tomorrow in his trial defense as the inspiration for his nocturnal skullduggery (skullfuckery?), I have to admit I nearly laughed myself into an Activa-sponsored shit-fit.

Yes, Nicholas Grunke credits Kelly's funeral home-set grindhouse potboiler as the reason that he dug up the corpse of a recent motorcycle accident victim and set up a romantic evening with her, complete with a tarp, duct tape, a crowbar, and a box of condoms. Well at least he practices safe corpse-fucking! Although next time some scented candles might be in order (for obvious reasons).

Alan Rowe Kelly

At least the guy didn't get away with it, and apparently the real stir about the case was caused when lawmakers realized that there are no laws against pulseless booty-calls in the great state of Wisconsin. Although notice that Iowa news outlet KCRG makes a point of noting, apropos of nothing, that screwing dead people is a class D felony in the Hawkeye State. Them's my uppity bitches!

Anyway, huge ups to Alan Rowe for making it into the headlines in Cheddarville in such an unsavory and fabulous manner. You've arrived, hooker!

See Alan Rowe Kelly's "A Far Cry from Home" at Fango Con NYC this friday!

Skittles, it's not often that my dueling personalities get to share airtime, but today Buzz ran an item over at Brian's dayjob getting the word out about the queerness at the Fangoria's Weekend of Horrors that starts Friday in NYC. (Margo was not happy.)

Honorary CampBlood Counselor Alan Rowe Kelly (specialties: bow-hunting, light crafts, maquillage) will be premiering the latest in New Jersey-bred survival horror, the very nasty hate-crime tale A Far Cry from Home, at the fest on Friday night at 7, and all you Gotham City gore-gays had better come out to support!

Here's more info. Don't make me come and drag you by your nipple-hairs!

Blood Work Ep. 2: Drunk on Blood

Are you watching True Blood on HBO? If not, you really should be, because it's starting to get very interesting. Somewhat less interesting but hopefully at least marginally entertaining? Me and indie horror fashionplate Alan Rowe Kelly getting drunk on tequila and recapping the second episode.

"SHOOTERS!!"

It's over on the CampBlood Video page!

Check out "Blood Work", my new weekly "True Blood" vlog

WORRRRRRRRK!

That's right, bitches. I'll be back each week with another new episode of Blood Work, discussing each new installment of the bizarro new vampire series. Big thanks to Alan Rowe Kelly for being my first guest and to "Special" Correspondent Chuckie for providing the Cloverfield-esque camerawork. I mean, cameraWORRRRRK!

To watch the episode, click your ass over to the CampBlood Video page!

Buzz only has eyes for "The Blood Shed"

So here's a funny story: My picture is in the current issue of Rue Morgue magazine, as a part of their glowing review of The Blood Shed, the latest film from indie horror's glamazon of gore, Alan Rowe Kelly.

I posted some great set pics from the flick a while back and yes, I do appear in a few scenes of the movie as "the gay neighbor". As you can see from the pic above (you can click on it for a larger image, I think), things don't end up too well for me ... but then again, they don't end up too well for anyone, and at least I don't get my nuts sawed off with an electric turkey knife.


Anyway, you simply must RUN to the newsstands and buy every copy you can find, and make the appropriate closet shrine to the image of me without any eyeballs. And while you're at it, pick up the movie! I know I will, as soon as I can find the door.

And for the record, my birthday party last weekend was even more horrific than what you see above. More to come...