Last Of The Evil Beatniks

Kickstart this Fucker!

2011-03-01T11:49:00.001-08:00

One last post, then I'm getting outta here, because I obviously don't have the time or energy to keep up with a blog...

We've launched a Kickstarter campaign to fund our next movie THE GALACTIC JUNGLE-- we're trying to raise 3 grand for props, motivational drugs, etc. As you may or may not know, IT STARTS WITH MURDER! was shot for much, much less (500 bucks, to be exact!), so our production values have literally SKYROCKETED! We need all the help we can get!

Every little bit counts-- we've only got 90 days to reach our goal. If we don't reach it by May 22nd, we get NOTHING. Want a chance to live in infamy? Spread this link around to any sleazemongers you know with deep pockets-- or just throw a buck or two our way. It all adds up!

Follow the link for more details. SLEAZY REWARDS lurk within...

Comings and Goings

2010-09-15T08:22:00.000-07:00

Blogger Vacation™ continues until I finish this goddamn screenplay.

BUT BUT BUT, as this also functions as the official band blog, I have to break in from time to time to give updates... This is one such time.

Item the FIRST! Our most recent pairing with Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds was a rip-roaring success. We couldn't ask for a more lovable group of degenerate rock stars to pay visit to our humble midwestern burgh.

KCC was even nice enough to snatch a photo with Curvacia and myself on the Jackpot patio-- like so:

Item the SECOND! Allison at WILL YOU BE MY +1? was kind enough to send some love our way-- via a naughty-but-nice dissertation on our ode to 60's stripping housewives, NUDIE WATUSI. Her thoughts?

"Diving into the first verse is like a bite of a sundae after not having one for a while…a spoonful of delicious nostalgia.

“Now everybody knows/ the peppermint twist/ and you can do the alligator/ and it goes like this/ you’ve been mashing those potatoes/ since the day you were born….”

Harkening back to old dance crazes, it’s what you expected, and what you wanted. It’s also all one long pick-up line…that is, if the “nudie watusi” Manilow finally invites us all to do is what I think it is. (I think so.)"

We here at Spook Light Central couldn't agree more, obviously. Thanks for the kind words, Allison!

Item the THIRD! Witness some sonic noiseplay and stellar footwork from our recent gig at the 8th Street Taproom.

Now, some of y'all may have hear about this big Garage Fest that's coming to town next month:

Needless to say, some of us were a bit heartbroken over the lack of local acts on this bill, so we've assembled a few of our best and brightest for a pre-show at the Replay the night before... if anyone out there in bloggerland happens to be in Lawrence that night, stop on in and say "Hello!" We're always happy to make new friends!

Until next time, I remain...

--SCARY MANILOW!

Howl of the Nightmare!

2010-09-02T13:53:00.000-07:00

Still on Blogger Vacation™ for a least another week or two-- trying to wrap up our MUSIC VIDEO, our NEW RECORDING, and get prepped for our second gig with KID CONGO POWERS! All very exciting things, and all things which, combined with the screenplay, are keeping my free time completely OVERBOOKED.

For now, please enjoy this awesome monster we made this summer. My daughter wrote it AND stars in it--I like to think she has a real future as a multi-media personality ahead of her (maybe as a late night horror host?)... Ladies and germs, I'm proud to present HOWL OF THE NIGHTMARE!!!!

Going, Going, GONER

2010-07-22T15:49:00.000-07:00

And now, a seasonal, hot-weather update from THE SPOOK LIGHTS!

We're still mid-recording, chipping away at this thing slowly but surely. Despite some unforeseen delays in the creative process, I fully expect that we'll be mixing this thing by the time the leaves turn brown.

Meanwhile: is anyone interested in a copy of our 7-inch? Red vinyl, screenprinted covers, and two great songs for the low-low price of FREE! I've got a handful of them to give away, mostly because I just want to get the songs into circulation, so if you want a copy or know of a good place to send one, drop me a line in the comments and we'll work out the details...

In other news, Curvacia and I got our 4-day passes to this year's GONERFEST, which means our Autumn just got 100% more Memphis-y! It pains me to report that we'll have to bow out of our opening spot with the OHSEES that same week (SADNESS!!!!) -- but it's a small price to pay for seeing the holy trifecta of OBLIVIANS, NEW BOMB TURKS, and motherfucking GUITAR WOLF!

This will be my first experience with them since the death/ reincarnation of Bass Wolf-- but if the new lineup is even HALF as solid as the version I saw ten years back (when they rolled through town with THE CRAMPS, no less!), our money will be more than well spent.

If you haven't seen SORE LOSERS, the movie these clips were taken from yet, do yourself a favor. Director John Michael McCarthy toured this movie and its follow up, SUPERSTARLET AD through Lawrence a decade or so back... The idea of touring an underground movie through rock clubs like a band was a pretty inspirational concept to me at the time. His newest pic, THE CIGARETTE GIRL, looks pretty astounding as well:

PSS: If anyone is interested, here's a bunch of pictures from last year's Memphis trip-- a pilgrimage to see the almighty GORIES in action!-- CLICK HERE and browse away. Hopefully this trip is just as rocking but with less car-hitting-deer action.

Americathon (1979)

2010-07-17T17:06:00.000-07:00

Also... THIS:

Another Deposit in the Swear Jar of Life

2010-07-15T13:14:00.000-07:00

"A NOVEL NO PARENT SHOULD MISS!"

Picked this prime slice of summertime sleaze at the local Goodwill the other day. It was a reward to myself for enduring the outermost circle of Thrift Store Hell. Not only did we spend half an hour marooned in the checkout aisle behind a Sweatpant Collector (three carts heaping full), but I was also forced-- FORCED, I say!-- to use less-than-gentlemanly language in front of my daughter. Tragedy! So unnecessary, and yet so unavoidable. Allow me to dish the goods:

I could see her coming from across the store: snorting, spitting, wheezing with rage. Her thinning hairdo-- if you could call it that-- was dyed the same garish color as the letters on her t-shirt (which boasted an endorsement for some sort of evangelical hootenanny), and her false teeth were piss-stained with nicotine. As her shopping cart zigged in a zag-like pattern, I found myself studying her movements, pondering her motivations. What could be making her so angry? She stooped down to collect a pile of stuffed animals and hurled them into a motheaten recliner. How could anyone be so miserable in a place so filled with JOY?

I mean, true, there were masked children running rampant through the aisles, and true, there was nary an employee in sight-- I assume they were sharing reefers over a pile of scavenged treasure in the donation room-- but how was that any different than any other day at Goodwill? The mountains of debris, the absentee approach to customer service-- this is the kind of atmosphere I sign up for when I head down to the local thrift. Am I alone in thinking this is part of the appeal?

I was checking shirt sizes with my daughter in the middle of the store when her cart screeched to a halt behind us.

"Excuse me," she snarled-- not at me, mind you, but at my 8-year-old child. "I'd like to get through."

"Well okay, then!" I dramatically waved my arm to showcase the expanse of aisle beside us. There was more than enough room to go around-- you could have moved a dining set through there without much effort.

"I already done picked up your mess for you!" she barked nonsensically, as if she really believed that we had savaged the entire store. I tried to catch her eye, but her glare was firmly locked on my daughter.

Now, in my head, there exists a litany of erudite responses for just such an event. I've spent hours, even days concocting witty remarks and cataloging them for quick retrieval in the heat of battle. This could have been such a battle. Alas, my tongue is always quicker to the draw.

"Hey lady," I chirped. "GO FUCK YOURSELF."

I won't lie-- it felt pretty good. There was no way to contain my smile. This person, in her many guises-- bible thumper, shitty driver, prohibitionist, values voter-- has been ruining my day for the past few decades. Isn't it time I had the chance to ruin hers?

My daughter was smiling, too, although she obligingly covered her ears in the traditional "bad word" pose. Our opponent lurched away, aghast, sputtering with disbelief. I expecting her to run shrieking to the management, but the confrontation had deflated her. She spent the rest of her time moping around the store, no longer glaring or throwing things, just going about her business with dulled, automatic precision.

Double Whammy

2010-07-12T21:01:00.000-07:00

HARVEY PEKAR.

TULI KUPFERBERG.

Enjoy.

2010-07-03T18:35:00.000-07:00

Posted without comment:

My Life Is Indebted To Songs

2010-06-29T11:56:00.000-07:00

I've been on a real soapbox in my personal life lately, bitching about everything from the unchecked police power at the G20 summit in Toronto (which has yielded both predictable and infuriating results) to Halliburton's ties to the gulf oil spill and BP's subsequent immolation of endangered sea turtles to the new youth mentoring program that Blackwater has set up in Afghanistan to the homophobic, religiously deranged aristocrat who will probably be our state's next governor and his racist, homophobic (and did I mention racist?) best pal who will be our next AG. Why should I ever smile again?

Because of this, perhaps?

Yes, CERTAINLY because of that.

Sorry to be such a Gloomy Gus. I'll be back soon with some really sweet Harlequin Romance cover scans, HONEST.

Return of Wolf Girl

2010-06-25T07:19:00.000-07:00

As if last year's HAUNTED HOUSE FULL OF DEAD COPS wasn't proof enough, I think these pictures provide clear evidence that this child carries my DNA.

Mix the Dark Passions

2010-06-24T07:09:00.000-07:00

I'm in a Bill Paxton kinda mood today:

La Resistencia es Inútil!

2010-06-19T16:20:00.000-07:00

Went to see THIS last night:

And caught a brief glimpse of THIS GUY on a TV set within the movie:

Which led me to decide that I should share THIS with you:

Te gusta!

50 Cents and a Smile

2010-06-15T07:35:00.000-07:00

First up: THE SPOOK LIGHTS were nominated for BEST GARAGE BAND in the 2010 Pitch Music Awards... Which is great, and could potentially be greater as soon as I figure out where to send people to vote. Details as they emerge...

Next: A couple of awesome grabs from the 50-cent bin at the new Salvation Army thrift here in town:

As with 77 SUNSET STRIP, I was unaware that GIDGET started life as a series of books. The non-Sally Field-esque model on the cover throws my mind for a loop. What kind of Bizarro-world GIDGET does this novel detail?

"I took one more look at the holocaust before I settled down and started the motor. Okay, you crazy mixed-up kid, I said to myself before I maneuvered myself out onto the highway, now you've been at a luau... and now you know what an orgy looks like."

HOLY SMOKES, MOONDOGGIE!!! I can't wait to see what happens in the rest of the story!

On that same note, who's up for some not-so-thinly veiled sexual shenanigans with THE MONKEES?

I also grabbed a YACHTLOAD of old Harlequin Romance books-- but that's another post for another time, my friends...

Tough On Hippies

2010-06-14T13:12:00.000-07:00

Hey, remember that time our cat ran for mayor?

Also:

I finally tracked down a decent-looking copy of HUMAN HIGHWAY-- can't wait to watch it again! I haven't seen it since high school, when a particularly deranged friend of mine screened his dad's bootleg VHS tape for me.

The top review on Amazon pretty much sums it up: "I like acid, devo, and rock n'roll. I like this movie. That is all."

Slopping: A Consideration

2010-06-13T07:03:00.000-07:00

Backhanded compliments from strangers have always ranked high on my list of hidden pleasures in life. Don't ask me why, because I honestly couldn't explain... I reckon I'm just a sucker for flattery, even in unintentional form.

Example: Whilst perusing the pulp spinner at a local used book store yesterday, I was approached by a dumpling-shaped cad in yellow denim. "You got a good look goin' on there, buddy," he snorted at me. "Sorta like some kinda BLUES CLUB thing, if ya know what I mean." There was something vaguely threatening about the way he paired those words... a hint of accusation, some formless offense taken at my peculiar pairing of shirt and pants... But any implications of violence whizzed right over my head, as I was already busily recording this moment for future reference. This was hardly my FAVORITE compliment of the year (that dubious honor goes to the frat boy who barked into my face over the Jackpot tapwell: "What, is it fuckin' BEATNIK NIGHT down here or something?"), but it was cause enough to celebrate.

So I snatched up my daughter and fled to the nearest pizza buffet to drown my good cheer in marinara and shame. Curvacia and I long ago nicknamed this place THE PIZZA TROUGH (imagine the tagline: COME SLOP YOURSELF... AT THE TROUGH!!!), and for good reason: the place is literally SQUIRMING with mewling piglets, stuffing their gaping maws with fistfuls of greasy carbohydrates. Just the thing I needed to boost my ego after having my good looks sullied.

What sets PIZZA TROUGH apart from its competitors is its willingness to experiment with the form-- at THE TROUGH, pizza is no mere vehicle for cheese to enter your bloodstream. It is a mode of self expression, bound only by the whimsy of its creator's hands. Case in point: MACARONI AND CHEESE PIZZA. Mounted on a pedestal, bathed in a celestial, warming glow. Whether I was conscious of it or not, I had always dreamed of a moment like this. My daughter and I were frozen to the spot in awe... The on-duty manager, as if anticipating this reaction (indeed, having possibly lived through this VERY SITUATION no less than a hundred times that same afternoon) dutifully shoveled a slice onto each of our plates, then sent us away with a knowing wink.

Long ago I devised a plan: open a restaurant catering to discriminate white-trash tastes, a midwestern FUSION CUISINE if you will. I have a list somewhere of all the menu items, which ranged from heartburning (ONION RING NACHOS) to ingenious (BISCUITS & GRAVY SWIRL BREAD) to the downright befuddling (BURGER-RITOS, the spiritual opposite of a TACO BURGER)... Never once did the concept of MACARONI AND CHEESE PIZZA enter into my mind. So it was with no small amount of professional envy (and hesitation, as well-- Hands or fork? Hands or fork? From-the-hip decision making has never been my strong suit) that I leaned forward and took that first, lingering bite.

EPILOGUE: Explosive diarrhea, my friends. Perhaps we were never meant to tamper with forces greater than ourselves.

The Not-So-Final Frontier

2010-06-07T12:48:00.000-07:00

We hosted a bonus screening of IT STARTS WITH MURDER to raise money for a DVD release... The attendance was certainly more of a "quality over quantity" affair, which was fine with me. I'd much rather play to a small crowd of devoted friends than a packed room of ambivalent strangers. I'm just a NERVOUS NELLY like that!

(Special shout-outs are due to our pals LYDIA for her generous patronage and JOI for bringing the hype on Yelp! You guys are the bestest!)

Meanwhile:

In true Hollywood style, production has begun on our new movie before the script is even finished! Enjoy this bonus glimpse into THE GALACTIC JUNGLE...

Kiss My Giblets

2010-06-06T12:08:00.000-07:00

A great commercial that my pal Lydia turned me onto-- it's like Banquet Dinners was trying to appeal to the Kuchar brothers set:

The American Friend (1977)

2010-05-29T11:13:00.000-07:00

My absolute favorite Dennis Hopper film, probably the best of the Ripley adaptations, and one of Wim Wender's top three efforts. Dodge City is burning tonight, my friends.

Running With The Devil

2010-05-26T11:20:00.000-07:00

One of the most endearing things about headset phones is their ability to transform the average passerby into a gibbering, post-schizoid comedy act. Take for example the jogger I passed on my way to the car wash yesterday... At first, I mistook her for just another athletically-clad, wandering psychopath, the type we usually find wandering near the campus of a major state university. Then I spied the telltale cords dangling from her ears and the awful truth was revealed... This was no mere battle with personal demons; it was nothing more than a typical phone conversation gone horribly wrong. How yawn-worthy. How pedestrian.

Still, having just spent the better part of three days reformatting my hard drive, I like to think she was screaming at some smug Microsoft tech-support geek. Go get 'em, tigress!!!

Anyhoo-- music for your midweek enjoyment:

ON WITH THE SHOW!

You gotta GET IN to GET OUT!

2010-05-25T11:58:00.000-07:00

Quick! Someone loan me 1.5 million bucks-- THE AMITYVILLE HORROR HOUSE is for sale!!!!

Do me this one favor, and I promise to invite all of you over for a big slumber party-- just us Spook Lights, you friends, a family of irate ghouls, and JODY the fucking PIG.

Two Wheels Part Two

2010-05-18T20:02:00.000-07:00

An addendum to my previous post about Bicycle Month:

Two Wheels and an Attitude

2010-05-18T09:54:00.000-07:00

I recently purchased a car after going nearly ten years without one. Being the flashy motherfucker that I am, I droped a grand on a '92 Oldsmobile 88 Royale-- something I can feel good about rolling my peeps to bingo in. Burgundy exterior, burgundy interior, pre-filled ashcan, in-dash cassette player... all my needs are met. So, of course, the fucking thing is already in the shop.

As you may or may not know, I have a pretty stellar frankenbike (mentioned in passing all the way back HERE) which currently occupies several spots on the floor of our garage. This would be as good a time as any to reassemble those shameful pieces into a functional whole-- I can seize this opportunity to start riding again, to try and do something about this CAR GUT I've so recently acquired (seriously, now that I don't drink anymore, driving a car is the only excuse I have for carrying a spare tire). And, what with May being NATIONAL BIKE MONTH at all, fixing my bicycle feels like a CIVIC DUTY... who am I to swim against the moral tide?

The first recorded auto accident involved a car hitting a cyclist, which also occured in May-- having been clobbered by a few autos whilst riding in the past, I'd just like to pass on a little advice: WATCH OUT FOR CARS. MOST DRIVERS ARE IDIOTS AND THEY WILL NOT SEE YOU. If this advice fails you and you somehow walk away, HIRE A GOOD LAWYER and SUE, SUE, SUE. It's the American thing to do, after all.

Allow Me to Ruin Your Weekend

2010-05-15T10:53:00.000-07:00

Thank you, CHRISTIAN NIGHTMARES, for alerting the world to this video. Thans to you, Joe Horn will never fingertap in vain!

PS: If the video isn't pants-pissingly funny enough, the attached comments are a comedy GOLDMINE. Please tell me this is all some kind of brilliant joke on the world- because if these people are REAL, and sharing the same OXYGEN as me, then I'm ready to check out at any time.

See My Thong, Bitches

2010-05-13T11:46:00.000-07:00

I came across this flier last week and meant to post it IMMEDIATELY, but the past few days have really gotten on top of me and I put it off until now. It might be the most shining example of effete collegiate white-ness I've seen in a long time. Seriously, if ONE drunken, late-night mooning stirs you to author such high-minded nonsense, at least make an attempt to use proper punctuation and capitalization... unless, of course, e.e. cummings wrote this letter, in which case all is forgiven.

PS: "You need to read a book about how to look hot" is my new go-to insult for the remainder of 2010.

OBSERVE:

"this is addressed to one individual, then two groups of people:

-the woman who directed the statement, "you wanna see my thong, bitches?" at my sister and i on friday, may 7th at 1:31 am on the sidewalk of mass. street.

-the group of four-five women with her (cohorts).

-the general public

i hope this small effort makes it obvious how serious i'm considering the confrontation between myself and the director of that hideous statement. she did hike her dress in the next moment, showing me her explicit choice in undergarments. the rest of the situation was my shower of words, expressing the need for her to go home and read a book, then her rebuttal of, "you're ugly. you need to go read a book about how to look hot."

this is no time for us- first as people, second as americans- to be parading around our consumptive, idiot nature. you are entitled to fun, but you aren't entitled to misuse your drunken joy: by directing the word 'bitches' at women who haven't earned an insult, by baring your bottom, or by making yourself translucent with your rebuttal. your mind simply should not allow it. i've educated myself since graduating high school: i've managed to assimilate the facts of the world into my lifestyle. my plea is this: if you know anyone who would behave so, rip down this paper and show it to them. they've made an enemy."

The Queen is in the Closet (Camp Records, 1965)

2010-05-11T20:51:00.000-07:00

http://www.mediafire.com/?mynfzznvzgj

Whack-a-mole

2010-05-05T08:29:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow is National Masturbation Day. To get ready for the big event, here's a couple of helpful videos to PRIME THE PUMP.

Amateur Hour

2010-05-04T11:48:00.000-07:00

STANDARD SUNDAY NIGHT CONVERSATION AT WORK:

"Do you have any specials tonight?"

"Yeah, it's two dollar wells."

"Really? Okay. I'll take one of those, please."

"Okay, so what do you want?"

"A well. One well."

"Um... What KIND of well? We've got vodka, bourbon, gin, etc."

"Oh, I didn't know what you mean. Do you have a well beer?"

"Our cheapest beer is Hamm's. You want a Hamm's?"

"Uh, what in the world is a HAM?"

"Hamm's? It's just a cheap beer in a can."

"In a CAN? Oh my gawd. That-sounds-REVOLTING! Can you make me a Limeade Martini?"

"A limeade martini?"

"Yeah, you know... a LIMEADE MARTINI."

"I have a lime. I have martini fixings. You mean, like a gimlet?"

"Oh, never mind. Just give me the fucking HAM."

"One Hamm's coming up..."

"Oh my gawd. What the hell is this we're watching? It looks horrible."

"This movie? It's called C.H.U.D. I brought it from home."

"C.H.U.D? What in the world is a C.H.U.D?"

"A Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dweller."

"Do you LIKE this kind of movie or are you just trying to be funny?"

"A little of both... That'll be one-seventy-five for the beer."

"Okay, hang on-- do you have change for two dollars?"

END TRANSMISSION.

From the Private Files of Mr. Manilow

2010-04-27T13:22:00.000-07:00

As mentioned previously, we've been rearranging our humble abode in order to make our lives more manageable. This has involved sorting through mountains of accumulated clutter, discarding what we can (with no small amount of heartache), and finding more visible exhibit space for the rest. In the process, I've rediscovered some long-forgotten gems from the bowels of my collection... OBSERVE!

Photos of old drunks that I am convinced are actually myself and Curvacia after a bizarre time-travelling incident:

Hilarious postcards that I'm going to fill out and mail to myself from the beachfront hotel of some exotic tropical isle:

An awesome puzzle called "The Mods" that I picked up from a flea market and never had the heart to assemble:

And, of course, TRASHY BOOKS GALORE:

"AN EVENING READER," indeed!

"Laundering procedures in this book were developed in the Maytag product testing laboratory-- a complete, up-to-date LAUNDRY RESEARCH CENTER." Some people have the best jobs, I swear.

In my head, this title always reads as "Killer in DA House."

I also found a slew of amazing records backed up somewhere -- a PUTT PUTT concept album, anyone?-- which I promise to rip and post samples from as soon as this ordeal is through.

Cosmonautopia

2010-04-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

Scenes from the the future, Soviet style:

Still Kicking...

2010-04-15T20:06:00.000-07:00

One of these days, I'm going to get back to regular posts, I swear. And by "regular posts," I mean, "updates about something other than my band."

In my defense, the last month and a half of my life has been occupied with family visits, extended stays in the local medical research facility, and a massive home-base rearranging project (which yielded great results in the FORGOTTEN JUNK department-- more on that later this week).

Until this weekend, I leave you with THIS:

And THIS:

As you were, comrades.

(For some reason, Youtube doesn't embed any smaller than this anymore, so a third of the screen has been clipped by Blogger. D'oh! If you double-click and go straight to the source, you should be able to see the whole thing).

The End is Nigh

2010-04-01T14:44:00.000-07:00

I haven't had a drink in almost four months now, but the stress of having a seven-inch release AND film fest deadlines ON THE SAME DAY might push me back over the edge. Stay strong, Manilow!

Wish us luck tonight! I'll be back this weekend with a full report.

PS: Today is New Year's on "old calendar"-- according to the tarot, the first day of the Fool's journey, TRUMP 0. Here's to taking a leap of faith!

Slab Rat

2010-03-24T07:56:00.000-07:00

This week I'm selling my health for medical research. And what is my health worth, you might ask? This time around, 1700 smackaroos-- two stays of four nights each, which isn't so bad when you consider the free food*, bedside cable television, and unlimited internet access... It's almost like a quick stay at a low-end resort, the kind of resort where they stick blood-draw catheters in your arm, bundle you in group dorms with hardened criminals, and impose a strict LIGHTS OUT policy every night at 11.

*A quick note on the aforementioned "free food": we're testing an experimental diabetes pill. Since none of us in the control group actually HAVE diabetes, and forcibly infecting us with diabetes would be somewhat unethical, they're making us to eat hospital-style junk food to compensate. In the words of our study director, "Take my word for it. I'm not gonna lie to you. It's a whole lot of mayonnaise." Anyone who knows my feelings towards mayonnaise (ugh) will understand that I'm REALLY earning that check this time around.

I picked up this record recently and it is the OPPOSITE of mayonnaise. Two things I love combined in one complete toothpaste. Ladies and germs, I give you HUGO MONTENEGRO covering NEIL DIAMOND:

http://rapidshare.com/files/120734171/hugo_montenegro_-_neils_diamonds.rar

PS: Curvacia recently picked up a USB turntable for our mutual birthdays-- expect a FLOOD of esoteric thrift-store weirdness to be heading your way in the coming weeks!

Someone threw a party, someone threw a FIT!

2010-03-16T17:52:00.000-07:00

For my birthday, I want to gain residence in a world that is a cross between THIS:

And THIS:

Now... who's gonna make that happen for me?

Checking in

2010-03-13T17:47:00.000-08:00

I walk. I breathe. I live! And here's the proof:

This is my suit for tonight's gig with Kid Congo Powers. It was kindly donated to me by the brain trust at our local Social Service League thrift store. Curvacia and I should get their logo tattooed on our bodies in some visible location-- they've contributed so much to the look of our band and our movie that they might as well be a sponsor.

Life is hectic. A month away from the blog has given me some time to sort through my projects. I'll be back on a regular basis within the next week or so, provided some asshole customer doesn't shut my big mouth for me during my St. Patrick's bartending shift. Until then, here's a movie for the weekend:

EDIT: It was AWESOME. Not only one of the best shows we've ever played, but one of the best shows I've ever SEEN. If you haven't made time to check out the Pink Monkey Birds, pencil it into your day planner for YESTERDAY. Seriously-- Kid Congo is a consummate showman and a perfect gentleman through and through. I wish his band would play in town every night, it was that good.

Also, I took my cut of the money to the antique mall this afternoon and scored a copy of GOD BLESS TINY TIM on vinyl. Does life get any better than this?

Dale Hawkins, RIP!

2010-02-17T08:50:00.000-08:00

Fare thee well, sir-- if I were still a drinking man, I'd pour one out for you.

Spring Fling

2010-02-12T10:56:00.000-08:00

Shows! Shows! Shows! The winter is drawing to a end (although you'd never know it by stepping outdoors) and it is finally time for the Spook Lights to step out of hiding. We have new songs to play, a new seven-inch to sell (although I still haven't come up with any artwork for the cover yet), and new shows scheduled for your viewing pleasure.

Our self-imposed hibernation was supposed to last until the end of March. Every year we come back on April Fool's Day and pick some unlucky local bastards to open for us(in this case a new band called THE MOUTH BREATHERS)... But we decided to cut our break short this year when the chance to play with KID CONGO POWERS presented itself to us. What, you think we'd just say "NO" to an opportunity like that?

Kid's newest project, THE PINK MONKEY BIRDS (check out their album DRACULA BOOTS right HERE) are playing at the Jackpot Music Hall on March 13th, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't ready to drop trou for ANYONE who would give us a chance to open this gig. Luckily, my integrity was never compromised-- all it took was a couple of quick hone calls to seal the deal.

(It turns out that Kid makes his way to Kansas often-- his drummer is one-half of the brain trust behind THE HARVEYVILLE PROJECT, where the Pink Monkey Birds have recorded BOTH of their albums!)

Honestly, though-- I'm still armpit-deep in the new screenplay, so this movie thing is really first and foremost on my mind. The story is all mapped out for me, I have most of my actors lined up many of the locations scouted. All I need is a decent camera and someone with a knack for constructing miniatures and I'll be well on my way. And when I say "a knack for constructing miniatures," I don't mean DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS figurines... I mean something like THIS:

Science MADNESS!

2010-02-08T14:55:00.000-08:00

Here's an old chestnut I happened across by sheer accident:

That's me in the back row-- it's hard to tell from the quality of this scan, but my costume that year was an effective hybrid of FREDDY KREUGER, HERBERT WEST, and JASON VORHEES-- I remember that I discovered the movie REANIMATOR that summer and immediately sculpted the face of Jeffrey Combs into my mental totem pole of horror icons. The bloody lab coat in this picture survived nearly a decade's worth of "mad science" themed Halloween costumes-- I kept it all the way into college, where it was eventually set on fire.

I just realized that I've lost count of how many mad science costumes I've worn through the years-- not just on Halloween, mind you, but for ANY occasion when a crusty lab coat and a set of glowing test tubes might come in handy... This is starting to feel like a photo gallery in the making. Stay tuned to this page for any further developments.

On a related note: my Freddy glove in this picture is totally homemade. Unable to afford one of the fancy plastic ones from the toy store, I cut razor shapes from a cardboard cereal box, spray painted them silver, and glued them to an old brown gardening glove. THAT'S dedication to form, my friends. When it comes to deviant lifestyles, I was definitely born into this one.

Connection: MISSED!

2010-02-05T22:17:00.000-08:00

Someone posted THIS as a "Missed Connection" today, and it is OBVIOUSLY about Curvacia VaVoom:

"Basically, I love seeing you around town! You walk around like you own the place, like you're the rock and roll queen of the universe, which you are. This is good. My problem is that I don't see you anymore. You're not serving your community of admirers the way you used to. Maybe you could just spend Saturday afternoon doing some window shopping? Some drinking? Maybe star in more movies, play more shows? To be absolutely clear, if you set the hair up Really Big and wear The White Boots, you would be doing great service to your community. Come on, have a heart! :)

So basically I know the answer to this too, but on the off chance: I WANNA BE YOUR LOVE SLAVE. I can play guitar a little myself, and I could be tuning yours. Getting drinks for you is not too menial for me. How about helping carry things? Do you need a listener? More? I'm happy to help the cause in any way possible. The cause being: YOU!! Because--and I know I'm not alone here-- I can tell that besides being the queen of the rock and roll universe, you are a Great Person to Be Around. "

Seeing as how whoever-it-is referenced the band AND the movie, and seeing as how those are both projects that we very publicly undertake as partners, I can only assume that this person knows she and I are...um... AFFILIATED.

So how should I respond to this? Does this guy sound like potential stalker to anyone else? I don't know whether to be paranoid or angry right now. Should I reply to their post as a means of luring them into a trap? Or should I just laugh it off? I'm interested in hearing some thoughts from the void...

Truer Than True Stories

2010-02-03T22:10:00.000-08:00

Taking a moment to think about Messrs. Holly, Valens, and Bopper on the anniversary of their fated plane ride (which was yesterday, actually-- even in the blogosphere, I remain fashionably late)...

I've always felt that The Big Bopper got shafted after his death-- how come no one ever made a schmaltzy Hollywood biopic about him? It's the part Dan Ackroyd was BORN to play!

Anyhoo, "The Day the Music Died" holds an especially terrifying place in my fractured subconsciousness, and not just because it sucks the life out of any listener within a thousand yard radius. I first heard it at my grandparents' house during the summer between third and fourth grade. I was hanging out in the creepy spare bedroom with my cousin when it came on the radio. My cousin was describing a book with a funny title to me-- HELTER SKELTER, I think it was. He had just finished reading it, and being in his early teens/late adolescence at the time, was thoroughly freaked by the horrific violence described within.

"You could hear them screaming over a while away!" he said. My grandparents' house was in the country, at least twenty miles from the nearest town-- I realized with a shudder that NO ONE would be able to hear us screaming all the way out here.

"They cut out her baby and wrote HELTER SKELTER on the walls in blood!" The walls in the spare room were clean and white, and I could see in my mind how clearly any blood-messages would show up on them.

"The MANSON FAMILY," my cousin said. "It's a true story, and they never caught all of them-- they could still be killing people RIGHT NOW!"

Of course, I had to sleep by myself in the spare room that night. I never closed my eyes, not once, I just laid under the covers and cried and listened to that chorus repeat in my head: "This'll be the day that I die! This'll be the day that I die!"

I didn't even know what the lyrics were about until much, much later. I overlapped the song and the story for so long that they became inseparable to me-- it was always a song about the Manson murders, as far as I was concerned.

On a (mostly) unrelated note: TUESDAY WELD is a Druidic high priestess, and the plane crash was rigged as a sacrificial offering to her. Or so some people believe. How many more lives will end before her reign of terror is finally stopped?

The Cries of a Lonely Anachronism

2010-02-01T08:41:00.001-08:00

As an adult, I am hopelessly out of touch with modern technology. There were moments in my youth when I strived to be on "The Cutting Edge," but those days, like the digital age, have rapidly passed me by. In an era when most people get their news from The Internet™, I still find myself opening a print newspaper and frowning at the advice column. Admittedly, I have to walk farther to steal one since my neighbors gave up their daily subscriptions many years ago, but I think the point remains: I have failed as a citizen of the new millennium.

Evidence: I still use a land line. I don't have a cell phone, and I pride myself on the fact that I have never sent nor received a "text message." It is my private hope that I will hear the BEEP of my life-support system flatlining before ever hearing the BLIP (or worse, feel the BUZZ) of an incoming message from anyone, ANYWHERE. Especially while I'm at lunch, or worse, in a MOVIE THEATER. It's tiresome enough having to erase your voices from my answering machine when I get home from work, people-- I certainly don't need to be troubled with your lives while I'm out in PUBLIC.

I maintain that part of the reason I have been more successful creatively than many of my peers is because I don't waste my time "downloading apps" or whatever it is these kids do nowadays in lieu of collating zines or conjuring mix tapes or digging through thrift store donation bins. If there is something on the World Wide Web more life-affirming than any of these activities, I certainly haven't seen proof of it. Have you?

Blue Friday

2010-01-29T08:56:00.000-08:00

I'm depressed. I'm FUCKING depressed! Down-in-the-mouth, I say! But rather than waste precious blog space complaining to the world about how horrible my life is, I'm gonna be proactive and post some music to cheer me up.

No one can be as sad as HANK SNOW.

No one can be sad in a TROPICAL PARADISE.

No one can be sad when the kids are ROCKING OUT.

If you've been as blue as Yours Truly lately, give these albums a spin for a TRIPLE SHOT of uplift. It may not be medical science, but it's the surest way I know of to cure the wintertime blues!

Look To The East

2010-01-27T11:40:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Americans were uncultured. Then came the Internet. Now we have access to things like DRACULA IN PAKISTAN! Thank you, Internet, for the lessons you provide.

Mum's The Word!

2010-01-24T09:07:00.000-08:00

Fickle Fingers of Fate

2010-01-22T08:04:00.000-08:00

My box of HOUSEWIVES TAROT cards arrived, and they're FABULOUS looking:

Minor quibble: They shorted me the SEVEN OF CUPS ("Debauch") and gave me an extra SEVEN OF SWORDS ("Futility")... I wonder what the significance of that might be?

Unrelated tarot story: I was shuffling my old deck of cards the other day while pacing around the house (a nervous habit I have), and three cards fell t the floor, one right on top of the other. Stooping to collect, I noticed that they were RUIN, CHANGE, and COMPLETION-- a fitting order, considering the upheaval my life has been in as of late:

Diverging again: Some of you may remember THIS POST regarding pianosmith MICK PENNY and his many foibles... Well, I'm happy to report that there has been a SIGHTING! More than a sighting, ACTUAL VERBAL INTERACTION! It seems Mr. Penny is alive and well and shopping at Target. He has recovered from whatever issues were at hand, is living in town with his brother, has a regular gig playing a local retirement village, and is ready to get BACK IN THE GAME. He passed a business card off on Curvacia and told her, "Let me know if there's anything cool going on sometime, all right?" Doesn't he realize that his VERY EXISTENCE is proof that there's "something cool going on"? I wish that guy didn't take himself for granted so much. He could really be MAKING IT HAPPEN, if he really put his mind to it.

For the sake of vanity...

2010-01-22T07:27:00.001-08:00

New day, new computer, new computer, new script. Time to begin!

Bang, Zoom!

2010-01-06T07:45:00.000-08:00

Picked this gem up while hitting the post-holiday thrift bonanzas this weekend:

I think it would be an excellent read with the appropriate soundtrack:

DON'T YOU?

Goodbye, Year of Death ™

2010-01-02T13:51:00.000-08:00

My own personal memorial reel for the year:

Obviously I'm leaving out something good, but these were the ones at the forefront of my mind, and obviously the ones that affected me most.

Blight Christmas

2009-12-25T14:19:00.000-08:00

Holy wintry mix, Batman! Why are Scary Manilow and Curvacia Vavoom outside doing THIS...

...when they could be inside doing THIS?

Holiday Mirth, Program-style

2009-12-24T19:38:00.000-08:00

A last-minute blizzard has kept Curvacia and I from fulfilling our familial obligations for the season, but we've somehow managed to make do (hint: the keys to my coping mechanism are at the bottom of a rum bottle)... Thankfully, we have a CUSTOM MADE X-MESS TREE and a BOOTLEG YULE LOG VIDEO to keep us cozy whilst the wintry elements rage outside.

Check out these key-razy Nutcrackers-- Dracula and Frankenstein making a rare off-season appearance!

And here is the magic levitating tree that Curvacia assembled for us this year-- absurdly stylish and 100% cat safe! How does she always manage to be the greatest person ever?

My daughter is coming up this weekend to help help us see the rest of the year out... More adventures to follow! Until then, wishing you and yours a very merry-merry!

--Scary!

Vinyl Apocalypse

2009-12-21T11:57:00.000-08:00

Four needy orphans that came home with me from the Antique Mall this weekend-- click to enlarge so you can see them in ludicrous detail:

This album SEEMS like a lot of fun-- as evidenced by the FUN AT HOME! tag near the bottom left corner-- but just wait until you throw it on the turntable during your next "Burlesque At Home" party and Inappropriately Nude Hippie Guy inexplicably materializes. Selective use, indeed...

I have yet to play this album myself, but I'm a sucker for raunchy theme albums so I'm sure it won't disappoint. Plus, how can you go wrong with song titles like "C CUP BLUES" and "GIRDLES AWAY"?

The cover of this one needs no explanation-- or does it? At first, it seems to be just another innocent (yet perversely hilarious) instructional guide for BALL HANDLING. But what's this we see at the bottom? An sinister excess of PYNCHONIAN SYMBOLISM.

This album is AWESOME, as home belly dance instruction records often are. I love how the cover states RECORDED LIVE, but doesn't actually say WHERE. Judging by the GIANT HAIR on display in these pictures, it was recorded live in my personal fantasy space. I open the floor to discourse.

The pictures on the back are priceless. I want to take all of these ladies out to the bar for drinks with my family-- ESPECIALLY the dancer in the top right corner. I love how she just doesn't even care about pretense: "Allegra. Shalimar. Nadira. DOLORES." She almost looks like she's saying, through gritted teeth, "Can we get these pictures over with already? These goddamn beads are cramping my style, and I got a bottle of J&B waiting back at the trailer."

It's no secret that Curvacia and I melt for SPICY CUBAN RHYTHMS, HOPPED UP DRAG QUEENS, and SHAG CARPET LIFESTYLES. Here's an album covers that caters to all of those needs. And the music is HOT! As in, rum in your belly and chili peppers in your stool HOT. I could listen to this record every day for the rest of my life, and who knows? I might just do that. Bless you, Mary Cintra, for ending my music-buying year on such a spectacular note.

BONUS: Here's a recent video interview with Mary Cintra that both cracks me up and breaks my heart. We should all have this much class. I wish she lived nearby so we cold hang out and listen to her tell stories all day long.

All I want for X-mess is...

2009-12-17T14:19:00.001-08:00

1. A trip to the Alamo Drafthouse for the special screening of CHRISTMAS EVIL with director Lewis Jackson!

2. A CHIN. Sure, I look a regular joe from the front:

But when you see me in profile, everything goes to S-H-I-T:

Seriously-- it's like someone slapped me in the face with a shovel, Loony Tunes-style.Is there an equivalent of a boob job for the male chin? If so, it's a procedure I'd enjoy looking into.

3. The Return of WIZARD VIDEO! My life is much emptier now that the local video store is no longer populated with oversized clamshells of the greatest horror movie art in the history of the form. Observe:

4. FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS. That's all the money I would need to buy THIS...

...and jump start production on my next movie.

5. To be ON A MAGIC CARPET WITH THE THREE SUNS!

Neon Maniacs (1986)

2009-12-14T10:30:00.000-08:00

SUPPRESSED and CONFIDENTIAL

2009-12-09T11:34:00.000-08:00

Scans from old issues of SUPPRESSED and CONFIDENTIAL magazines that I picked up for cheap cheap CHEAP at the antique mall a few weeks back. Any tabloid that has queer celebrity gossip, bootlegging exposes, nudie pics, and ads for handguns, novelty gags, and stag films ALL IN THE SAME ISSUE gets high marks in my book. OBSERVE!

PS. If any of you haven't read the book MR. CONFIDENTIAL yet, now's the time-- I guess it's being turned into a musical!

Look What The Stork Dropped Off!

2009-12-03T11:52:00.000-08:00

A mystery package arrived today! Let's see what's inside...

The record press jerked us around, it took us three years to put together, and the labels look like they were printed on an '85-era dot matrix. But it sounds awesome! And it's so RED!

Ladies and germs, presenting SH001: TEENAGE MANIAC b/w NIGHT OF THE QUEERWOLF! It's been a long time coming.

Paul Naschy, RIP

2009-12-02T06:17:00.000-08:00

NOOOOO! And now Paul Naschy is gone. Will this YEAR OF DEATH™ ever end?

A Little Something to Tide Me Over

2009-11-25T07:31:00.000-08:00

I would like to post some images form these old issues of CONFIDENTIAL and SUPPRESSED magazines that I found over the weekend, but for various reasons I don't have access to a scanner right now, so those beauties will have to wait.

In the meantime, enjoy a little BEAT GIRL:

One Flew East, One Flew West

2009-11-19T12:26:00.000-08:00

So... The GLORE PSYCHIATRIC MUSEUM. Located in sunny St. Joseph, MO. Curvacia and I made a pilgrimage three or four years back to investigate. Here are the pictures to prove it.

(BACKGROUND: The Glore is housed in a former state mental hospital. Half of the grounds have been converted for museum space, the other half is now a minimum security prison. There used to be a thrift store in the basement, but unfortunately it was no longer in business at the time of this visit. And I think the use of old department store mannequins in the shock therapy displays seems positively Lynchian, don't you?)

This collection of nails, buttons, and safety pins was removed from an inmates stomach, post-mortem:

Season End Recap

2009-11-16T10:44:00.000-08:00

Way to end the year with a bang. The Spook Lights are officially on break until the spring (woo-hoo!) so we can focus on more writing and recording (Woo-HOO!) and trying to get these new seven inches out on the market (WOO-HOO!). Our last gig of the year (with THOSE DARLINS-- see them NOW if you haven't had the pleasure!)was a total freak show. Here are a couple of pics from the big night, courtesy of the lovely Mrs. Xoe Cranberry:

Inspiration Station

2009-11-13T11:23:00.000-08:00

AAAAH! Friday the 13th strikes!!!!

The King Khan and BBQ Show had to CANCEL tonight's gig with us. Those Darlins are still on the bill, but I was despearately looking forward to a big-time Spook Lights/ King Khan reunion fiesta. Next year, perhaps. There's always next year.

In the meantime, I'm hard at work on the new script-- a science fiction melodrama, of course. This is what I've been watching to keep me inspired during the writing process...

Acting cues:

Plot schematics:

Aesthetics:

For Adult Readers Only!

2009-11-10T09:52:00.000-08:00

I think about dying in car wrecks all of the time, and this is the way I think about it: How will they know what music was on the radio when my ticket was punched? My fans will demand accuracy when the movie version of my life is screened. If the correct song isn't playing during that key screeching tire/ smashed windshield/ flaming death sequence, there will be rioting in the streets, COUNT ON IT. Will the medics on duty recover my stereo for the sake of history? For the sake of HUMANITY?

I did a lot of thinking about this over the weekend, as Curvacia and I took an interstate road trip to attend a glamorous wedding reception. Our road trips usually involve intrigue, adventure, and a healthy amount of thrift store pillaging, but there wasn't much time for any of that this time around-- we were too busy celebrating, so fahgeddaboutit.

I did, however, manage to return home (alive!) with this little gem in my pocket:

This book promptly filled a gap in the shelf next to another group of filthy paperbacks that we recently acquired-- two of our good friends came into possession of a giant box of porn and were kind enough to let us have our pick of the spoils. It's a good feeling to be recognized among the ranks of elite pornography connoisseurs in the town-- membership definitely has its privileges, as the following titles so aptly demonstrate:

The flip side to BATTLE OF THE BOOBS is a real gem-- the ad for some call sex line, starring MINDY... who apparently waits to take your call on a floor-model recliner in the furniture section of her local SEARS!

Teen-Age Strangler (1964)

2009-11-06T08:17:00.000-08:00

Your movie for the weekend:

The Secret Histories

2009-11-04T11:21:00.000-08:00

I'm working on a post about our trip to the GLORE PSYCHIATRIC MUSEUM a few years back, but it's taking me a while to get all of the pictures together. To tide you over until then, here are some scans of various crazy ramblings I've found posted around town.

(NOTE: I tried and tried to dig up my favorite flier, LAWRENCE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL HARVESTS ORGANS FROM REST HOME PATIENTS, but it seems to be lost. Maybe I was finally so disturbed by it that I threw it away. Or maybe it's just piled under a mountain of my obsessively-collected crap. Either way, until that flier surfaces, this post has a definite TO BE CONTINUED attached to the end...)

I found this gem folded into the pages of our local weekly, THE PITCH, one foggy autumn morn. I actually kind of relate to the author's point of view-- I hate the typical "Music Showcase" format, and the idea of Masonic Conspiracies has always held a certain appeal. This person took those threads and knotted them together quite nicely, I think:

(click to enlarge)

This next one was the first in a series of home-made newsletters that appeared at the Replay on a weekly basis for several months last summer. The phantom author was never identified, but I kept several of these missives as research material in my ongoing quest for a Higher Truth.

(I particularly enjoy the stamp in the upper right hand corner-- they actually took this to City Hall and paid to have some clerk authorize it before distributing it around town! Some people have all the luck...)

And this final piece is but a small section of a much larger handbill. The opening paragraph here sums up the entire rest of the page, so I cut it short-- the real delight isn't the stream-of-consciousness rant about HOMELESSNESS VERSUS THE SYSTEM (another point of view which I totally agree with)-- it's the handwritten addition the author made near the top of the page: WHAT WAS PAST AROUND YOUR BAR? HIS NAME WAS DOUG. Considering the bar in question was the Replay Lounge, I hope you went to the clinic and got yourself checked out the next day, Doug.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The Way It Was

2009-11-02T13:26:00.000-08:00

Ah, Halloween. You did it to me again.

Let's get together again next year, shall we?

No More Days Till Halloween

2009-10-31T08:32:00.000-07:00

What are YOU doing to prepare for tonight's festivities? Why not start out with a jaunt through the following videos?

HALLOWEEN III is the best part of the series. Michael Myers can take a flying leap to Fuckyourselfville, for all I care. Why make room for him in a movie that already features killer androids, evil wizards, children with melting heads, a hypnotic flashing pumpkin that activates a magic death ray, and the testicular acting talents of one Mr. TOM ATKINS? God I love this movie. It should be playing on television every night, on every channel, for all eternity.

For some reason, this educational film only ENCOURAGES me to harass elderly drunks on Halloween. Maybe it's just the kid in me, I don't know:

And this cartoon always played before the HEADLESS HORSEMAN cartoon on the Disney Channel when I was a kid. For Pavlovian reasons, I still get wired for something frightening whenever I see it:

As always, THE SPOOK LIGHTS will be minding the store over at The Jackpot Music Hall, serving up a horrifying slice of, um, something really scary and such for everyone brave enough to attend.

(Extra special thanks to our pal Johnny Garfunkle for these fang-tastic screen printed posters-- they get better and better every year!!!)

The Price is Right

2009-10-28T11:08:00.000-07:00

Here is our cat, Vincent Price.

Here is the pumpkin I carved in tribute to our cat, Vincent Price.

And here is Vincent Price in my favorite (non horror) role as vampy overactor (and obvious Errol Flynn knockoff) Mark Cardigan in HIS KIND OF WOMAN!

Opening Night!

2009-10-26T14:55:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I missed an entire week without posting a single update. I feel like the victim of UFO-influenced time loss or something. I'm surprised the universe didn't fold in on itself during my absence. Perhaps it did, and what I'm experiencing now is no longer reality, but the overlap of dimensional sheaves as our existence is wadded together like a ball of paper... What an exciting time to be alive!

Anyhoo, last week was entirely consumed by the movie-- wrapping up the final edit, polishing up the press releases, getting some last-minute handbills cast around town-- which all pad off on opening night, which began with a three hundred-deep line pouring into the theater and ended with a standing ovation from the balcony. Hot stuff! Hot stuff!

EDIT: There's a whole slew of new images from the premiere--including the drunken fiesta that happened afterward-- up to browse HERE.

I tried to get pictures of scenes projected across the BIG SCREEN-- while I was to drunk to capably adjust our camera in the dark, I think the end result is something more interesting:

From what I remember, a good time was had by all (although the theater attendants had a difficult time removing us from the theater in our drunken stupor-- we wanted to stay and watch it all night!), and I can't wait to do it again in another 2-3 years when we've finished the next movie.

Sting of Death (1965)

2009-10-17T18:30:00.001-07:00

Your movie for the weekend:

Featuring the voice of Neil Sedaka!

Never, EVER Feed Them After Midnight!

2009-10-16T07:27:00.000-07:00

EXCITEMENT!

I was just turned on to THIS SITE which hosts dowloadable versions of all those READ-ALONG ADVENTURES records... including every installment of the 5-part GREMLINS adaptation!

As a kid, I remmeber pestering my folks to take me to Hardee's every week until the newest record came out. I must have collected four or five of each one... I have no idea what happened to any of them. Like most of my childhood coolness, they drifted away over the passing years.

Luckily, I'm now able to relive those sweet, sweet memories from the comfort of my own computer desktop. Ain't science something?

My love of all things Gremlin-related was somehow genetically transferred to my daughter, who along with a healthy obsession with the macabre has also developed into quite an artist. Observe:

I Predict Ominous Things...

2009-10-15T15:59:00.000-07:00

Feeling surprisingly great today, despite the onslaught of grim weather this week. My mood has been aided by TWO THINGS:

1) This sweet FORTUNE TELLER'S TURBAN I bought at the costume shop last weekend:

2) And this FULL PAGE ARTICLE that appeared in the local papers today-- a story about our movie! In the legitimate press!

READ ALL ABOUT IT RIGHT HERE.

This makes us official superstars now, methinks. That limo full of well-oiled Tahitian poolboys should be pulling up to our door any second now...

The Diabolical Dr. Z (1966)

2009-10-11T08:59:00.000-07:00

Your movie for the weekend:

Murder, They Played

2009-10-09T08:26:00.000-07:00

I've had my eye on this game at the antique mall for a while:

It's only five or six bucks, I don't know why I haven't picked it up yet. Aside from being a huge MURDER, SHE WROTE fan, I'm a sucker for board games that allow you to murder off the other players.

Which brings me to this:

How did I not know this game ever existed? Am I just old enough that I missed out when it happened? Or was it so small potatoes that it zipped under my radar at the time?

From Wikipedia:

The story behind the game indicates the death of a wealthy old woman triggers feuding over her will. The players utilize traps located on the game board, which represents a mansion, to kill characters controlled by other players in order to claim the estate for themselves.

I just checked it out: 100 SMACKAROOS on Amazon. Oh, well. Guess it was never meant to be.

The Annual Costume Conundrum

2009-10-08T09:44:00.000-07:00

(Scary Manilow, Halloween, 1977)

Once again, I'm facing the age-old, last-minute dilemma: What should my Halloween costume be this year?

My options so far:

1) BEETLEJUICE, the old stand-by. Thankfully, I've never had to resort to this, but it's always on the list.

2) Curvacia and I thought about going as THE MANEATERS from SHE-DEVILS ON WHEELS, but the rest of our band doesn't seem as enthusiastic about it as we do, and the idea of a two-person motorcycle gang just isn't as threatening as it should be.

This idea is still on the table for discussion, though. I think it's a good one.

3) I've always wanted to go as forgotten side characters from sitcoms, like random guests stars on DOBIE GILLIS or any of the regulars at ARCHIE BUNKER'S PLACE. Unfortunately, this wouldn't require changing anything I wear on a daily basis, so the point is kind of moot.

4) We've often batted around the idea of doing a JOAN AND CHRISTINA CRAWFORD team costume, with Curvacia in cold cream and shoulder pads and myself with a pinafore and wire hanger bruises on my face.

5) Any sort of villain form the old Edgar Wallace KRIMI movies. A whip-wielding monk, or a guy with a skull-face slashing people with a razor, or some sort of hunchbacked strangler. Or better yet, a masked criminal mastermind with an army of superminions. .. This is actually my goal in life, not just an idea for Halloween costumery.

Ideas, anyone?

Alabama's Ghost (1973)

2009-10-03T12:09:00.000-07:00

Your movie for the weekend:

The Return of Frankie Cargo

2009-10-01T06:58:00.000-07:00

Curvacia snagged me some great paperbacks from the free book rack at the hospital:

It Starts With Murder!

2009-09-29T08:21:00.000-07:00

I've never really been a fan of sports. I directly attribute this to being beaten up by jocks through most of my formative years. Watching those same jocks get the academic glad-hand for possessing basic ball-handling abilities didn't help my attitude much, either. It's the classic high school story: musclebound boneheads get all of the privilege, while trod-upon weaklings become angst-ridden delinquents. Get John Hughes on the Ouija Board, please.

Anyhoo, as an adult my attitude hasn't changed much. Many of my former "punk rock" friends have grown into rabid sports buffs-- a side effect of living in one of the most successful college sports towns on the map, I guess. That situation tends to have the opposite effect on me. Whenever Game Day approaches our fair city, I find myself enveloped by a cloudlike misery that hovers over me for most of my waking hours. Everything in town grinds to a halt so that we may cater to this infestation of rage-addicted knuckleheads and their tailgating, half-witted followers. And what do we get in return? A sharp spike in date rapes, bar brawls, and hit-and-run accidents. Fratboys puking in our yards. Sounds like a fair trade to me.

Organized sports seem to encourage a specific kind of passive participation, one that is encouraged on a mass scale. I somehow doubt that the average sports fan would rush out and join an athletic team-- their swollen livers and hardened arteries would probably prohibit this, anyway-- and why should they, when the most active way to support your favorite team involves sitting around a keg with your buddies, stuffing hot wings in your face, and shrieking at a plasma screen TV?

"Now, Mr. Manilow," you may say, "For someone who spends much of their time sitting around and watching movies, you sure seem to sling a lot of mud at the televised sports industry." As true as that may be, there is a key flaw in your reasoning: televised sports encourage most people to sit on their asses. Watching movies encourages me to go out and be creative.

Which brings me to THIS (a point that has absolutely nothing to do with my previous rant):

Our first movie-- three years in the making!-- is going to screen locally at Liberty Hall!

Shot for the low, low price of 500 bucks (700 if you count the price of the camcorder), IT STARTS WITH MURDER is much less than low-budget-- it's ZERO BUDGET. The image and sound quality are a little rough-- we had no money for film or boom mic, so we shot on a handheld DV camera and beefed up the audio in post-- but I really think that's part of the charm. This is an UNDERGROUND movie, after all-- anyone who shows up expecting Michael Bay-style production is going to leave sorely disappointed.

Here's a trailer-- NSFW, by any stretch of the imagination:

Thanks for tuning in. You may now continue with the rest of your day-- enriched, I hope, by what you have just seen here.

It Starts With Murder!

Angels' Wild Women (1972)

2009-09-26T08:57:00.000-07:00

Your movie for the weekend:

Sexy Sadie

2009-09-25T19:50:00.000-07:00

MICK PENNY, SUPERSTAR

2009-09-25T08:21:00.000-07:00

In years past, Curvacia and I would frequent a shabby Chinese restaurant known as The Plum Tree. Sandwiched between a vacant lot and a stack of crumbling meth labs, The Plum Tree was a floor-to-ceiling wonderland of wood paneling, glass curtains, and polished brass trim. A premium slice of untouched, 70's swinger chic.

But it wasn't just the stylish decor or expansive list of exotic cocktails that lured us back every week (although, to be fair, the cocktails were a HUGE bonus-- the Flaming Volcano Bowl was advertised as "for lovers only")... it was the velvet throat and nimble fingers of legendary pianosmith Mick Penny.

I had first encountered Mr. Penny nearly a decade earlier, when a surprise birthday dinner brought me to The Plum Tree for the first time ever. Our party was seated in one of the booths that bookended his piano, and he immediately launched into a woozy version of the Beatles' "Birthday," punctuated with casual winks towards our table and well placed, "Thanks for coming down here and sharing it with us." Everyone in the booth was hypnotized, rapturous. A naive Scary Manilow assumed his friends had hired the piano player specifically for his birthday. Little did I know that my chance encounter with Mr. Penny would blossom into a full fledged obsession many years down the line.

Fast forward nearly a decade. Curvacia and I were looking for somewhere to eat on a Friday night. She suggested The Plum Tree-- hooking me with a smile that said, "I'm letting you in on one of the best kept secrets in town." Turns out, they have this GREAT piano player who sits in once a week, and wouldn't it be great to dress up and get a table and act like his biggest fans? My face indicated shock and enthusiasm, I'm sure-- ten years later, and Mick Penny was still flying the flag. And here was someone else who not only knew about him, but wildly appreciated his existence! It was just this sort of shared Insider Knowledge that drew Curvacia and I together from the start, a love of hidden cultural artifacts that would go on to shape our secret personal mythology.

Week after week, we sat down with Mick Penny. The owners and wait staff knew exactly why we were there, and always placed us in booth directly across from him. While the other diners kept their faces planted firmly in their meals, we were sucking down drinks, applauding his talent, and hollering out loud for more, more, MORE. Mick would smile in our direction, give us a knowing wink, and let his golden voice croon us along "Moon River," carry us through "The Rainbow Connection."

We passed a few years of this, and then my Friday evening work schedule changed, and suddenly we dropped out of sight. Our next few opportunities to contact Mick were sporadic at best-- a recurring illness seemed to keep him away more and more often, and the restaurant itself was on wobbly financial legs... Sometimes, we'd show up, only to find the doors prematurely locked. It seemed our love affair with Mick Penny was drawing to its inevitable close.

We sat on it for a long while, then decided to pay him a surprise visit. We dusted off the old glad rags, packed a hearty appetite, and headed down to The Plum Tree for nostalgic trip down Penny lane. And that was when we got the horrible news: our waiter informed us that Mick was no longer performing there. The disgust on our faces must have been palpable-- an explanation was pouring from his lips before we even had a chance to ask for one. As he spoke, it became obvious to us that this particular waiter had some kind of personal beef with Mick Penny. His words were dismissive, even degrading, filled with the kind of dubious gossip and slanderous doublespeak normally reserved for dead in-laws or hated celebrities. Why we didn't stand up and leave right then is still a mystery. Perhaps it was shock that kept us glued to our seats, going through the motions of ordering and eating like fleshy automatons. We hardly spoke throughout the course of our meal, but something was acknowledged between us in silent, almost telepathic tones: Goodbye, Plum Tree. Your doors have closed to us forever.

The restaurant eventually shut down, and Mick Penny vanished into the ether. He once told us that he had a new gig playing for the residents of a retirement home near his apartment. Beyond that, superstardom, I have no doubt.

Just this week, I was flipping through the used bin at our local record store. An album cover caught my eye-- INTRODUCING NEITA AND THE DRIFTERS. It was one of those albums I typically melt for, a locally pressed, homespun vanity project, the kind of record that usually features a family jug band or a high school glee club performance. The band on the cover had on matching ruffle shirts and seemed to be posed in the basement of someone's ranch home. Members aged anywhere from the early twenties to mid fifties, and judging by their earnest smiles, I figured they came together through a church function or neighborhood potluck. The record was already destined for my shelf at home-- and then I got a look at the names.

MICKEY PENNY: LEAD GUITAR, VOCALS

I double-taked, read it again.

MICKEY PENNY: LEAD GUITAR, VOCALS

Followed my thumb from the name to the picture above it, and sure enough, THERE HE WAS, longer hair, a good thirty years younger, but dammit, it was him. Clutching a guitar and grinning for all he was worth. Mick Penny, piano superman.

The record burned my fingers all the way home, and when we finally dropped it onto the turntable for a spin it was as if time stood still. There was that same honey-dipped voice, coursing like a rush of opium from our speakers. His revved up cover of "All Shook Up" almost brought us to tears. I felt like we had somehow discovered the lost prologue to his life, like we had come into his song halfway through and never heard the opening notes until just now.

And so, Mick Penny: we hope you're playing your heart out somewhere tonight, and we will never forget our Friday nights with you. Thank you for sharing your music with us, and hopefully we can do it again sometime.

The Crypt of Crematia!

2009-09-24T10:11:00.000-07:00

I interviewed my favorite childhood horror host for the local paper a few years back. This is a good time of year to revisit it, methinks.

Once upon a time, I was a disturbed young kid with a crush on the local late night TV host. Her name was Crematia Mortem, and all week long she would tease me with promos for movies like "The Tingler" and "It Came From Outer Space!" The first time I begged my folks to tape an episode of Creature Feature was a defining moment in my life: the movie for the week was "Night of the Living Dead," and from that moment forward my life was changed forever.

Over the Halloween season, I had the chance to talk to Crematia-- aka Roberta Solomon-- about Creature Feature, her cult of adoring fans, and how she's kept herself busy since the golden years of late night television. This is what she had to say...

SM: Creature Feature ran from 1981-1988. Where did the idea for the show come from? Were you inspired by any other horror hosts of the day? What was initial reaction to the show like? What were the circumstances surrounding its cancellation?

CM: I started out at KSHB (in Kansas City) in 1981, hosting the Saturday edition of "All Night Live." That show had become the station's most popular program, and was hosted during the week by Ed Muscare. "Uncle Ed" had a huge following, and every night thousands of viewers would tune in to recite the "All Night Live Creed" with himand stay up late for an evening of silliness. This was a precious era in TV history, really. Before the growth of the big cable companies, individual stations owned the movies they aired. KSHB was not a network affiliate yet, had a lot of time to fill in the evenings, and a basement full of awful movies they ran at night and on weekends. "All Night Live" pulled weekday evenings together in one very silly package.

In '81, KSHB decided to expand "All Night Live" to include Saturday nights, and because Ed Muscare didn't want to do the show six days a week, the station held auditions for a weekend host. I had very little TV experience beyond a couple of classes at UMKC, but had been on the stage all my life. My audition was dreadful (I auditioned as a country-western singer who wandered into the studio by mistake) but the pickings must have been pretty slim because they hired me. Two weeks later, I went on the air, live, as "Sally Roberts." I had to change my name because the easy listening radio station I worked for at the time was worried I might get weird on TV, so they thought it best if I turned into someone else. It was a wonderful experience, hosting that show, and the response was very positive. On the weekends, however, KSHB played monster movies. My comic elements were tied to what Uncle Ed was doing during the week, but didn't have much to do with the movies we were showing. The station decided that it was easier to change me than to change the movies, so they approached me about creating a creepy new character to host the show. I came up with the name Crematia. My good friend Walt Bodine, who worked across the hall from me at the radio station, gave Crematia her last name, Mortem. I remember sitting in the studio with him and laughing like crazy over that name. It was perfect. So, on my last night as Sally Roberts on "All Night Live," I told the audience I'd been canned and that the following week they'd have a new host. I wasn't sure who they'd found to replace me or where she came from, I said, but I was sure she was a "character they dug up from somewhere." The following week, Crematia made her debut as the hostess of the "Creature Feature."

The response was amazing. Since KSHB was a superstation at the time, reaching several Midwestern states on cable, the audience was huge and we drew viewers from all over. The show was hugely popular, and was a big part of the growing-up-years of a lot of people. Even though we've been off the air now for over 15 years, I still get letters every month from people who want to know if the show's ever coming back.

Toward the end of the Creature Feature's run, KSHB became a Fox affiliate. As their committment to programming from the network grew, my show kept getting pushed back later and later and the audience started to change. The beauty of that show was that it was a family thing--moms, dads, kids, grandparents and babysitters would watch it together and groan at Crematia's bad jokes. But starting the show at midnight meant that I'd lose a good portion of my audience--what parent will let their kids stay up to watch a show that doesn't start until midnight? The Creature Feature was cancelled when I decided to leave.

SM: For those in the audience who haven't seen the show, could you please describe the basic premise? (Who was Crematia? Who were the side characters? etc...)

CM: I never really figured out where Crematia came from. "The other side," I guess. She was vaguely a vampire. (I remember lots of references to making a withdrawal from the blood bank.) She was several hundred years old. Mortem was her married name. (She was a hyphenate, actually. Crematia Post-Mortem.) She slept in a coffin (which was given to my ex-husband by an undertaker in Leavenworth) and lived with a couple of servants, Dweeb and Rasputin, who were never seen. Dweeb was referred to as the "man in the wall," because Crematia had walled him up in her house for some unnamed offense. Both characters were created by Paul Murphy, who was KSHB's "station voice" at the time.

Crematia had a very weird and wonderful family who showed up in episodes from time to time. Her sister Cremora was played by Katey McGuckin, who is the reigning queen of Kansas City morning radio, heard each day on Oldies 95. Their mother, Desiree, was brought to life by actor and comedian C. Wayne Owens, and was later played by Katey's husband, John Woolam. Both of those guys looked lovely in a dress. Along with Cremora and Mom, there was Weird Cousin Henry, a loopy but harmless lunatic played by Steve Bell. You hear Steve these days doing news on KCUR-FM.

SM: Do you have any favorite moments from the show? Behind the scenes memories?

CM: Oh, man. I had nine years of favorite moments so it's really hard to pick a favorite. One episode stands out, however. We had this kid on the show who'd made a giant paper mache monster costume that had stilts inside for the legs. He fitted himself into this get-up and when it was fully assembled, he was about 9 feet tall. We were playing some "giant monster from outer space" movie that night and the kid's creature was a perfect tie-in. We did these bits all night long where Crematia was looking for her "perfect man" through video dating services and the like, without having much luck. In the last few breaks, we were going to have this giant monster wander onstage and Crematia would announce she'd found her man! It was the monster, however, who actually wound up falling for Crematia. When the kid shuffled onstage in his 9-foot-tall costume, one of his paper mache boots got caught on the edge of the rug and he lost his balance. I looked up and saw him falling, in slow motion, like a tree. He landed with a thud on the floor, trapped inside the costume, and there was this horrible moment of silence. Then I heard him say, weakly..."Somebody get me out of here, please." He was fine, but couldn't be convinced to get back inside the costume again to finish the bit. We made do somehow, but I really felt bad for him. He was embarrassed more than anything.

A few months after the Creature Feature was cancelled, KSHB-TV became an NBC affiliate. To inaugurate the station, Tom Brokaw was brought into Kansas City to anchor the Nightly News from the network's newest station. I happened to be driving by the station during the 6:00 news and laughed out loud when I thought, "I wonder if Tom Brokaw knows that there's a coffin leaning against the wall behind him right now?"

SM: Did you pick out the movies each week? What were some of your favorites? (My personal favorite: The Brain That Wouldn't DIE!)

CM: I was NOT responsible for the movies!! They were chosen by the station, and The Brain that Wouldn't Die is definitely among my favorites. I also LOVED those wonderful Hammer Films with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, the Japanese monster movies (Destroy All Monsters is one of the best), and in particular the Mexican monster movies with wrestlers in the leading roles.

SM: There is a large underground devoted to preserving the memory of Late Night Horror Hosts. What do you think the interest is, after all these years? Do you see this as a sign of some type of revivalism? Are Horror Hosts on the comeback? What advice do you have for any up-and-coming Horror Hosts?

CM: The kids who grew up with horror hosts are now in their 30's with kids of their own and they're eager to pass along the magic of their growing-up years. There's definitely a sense of nostalgia about the TV horror genre and I do consider it a unique American folk art. I think it's due in part to the fact that you couldn't find those movies anywhere else at the time. The show existed before every home had a VCR, before the advent of cable, and before everyone had access to everything. I get so many inquiries about Crematia, and I know that interest is surging. In the coming months, there's a documentary coming out about TV horror hosts called "American Scary." (www.americanscary.com) I was just one of at least 50 former hosts featured in the film. There are a number of people out there who'd like to become monster movie hosts, so I know the interest is still there. The major challenge these days is finding an outlet. Stations devote so much time to network and syndicated programming that there's not much local time available. A lot of the hosts who are still on the air are on local cable channels or internet sites.

SM: Obviously, there is still interest in Crematia Mortem... I punched her name into GOOGLE and got several pages worth of information. It was nice to see I wasn't the ONLY who was warped by you as a child! Does Crematia ever make public appearances? Are there any plans to resurrect her character?

CM: I haven't appeared as Crematia since the show went off the air. When I did make public appearances, it was always for a non-profit event. I never wanted the use Crematia to sell a product, and felt a real obligation to use that character to do good things in the community. I would love to bring her back for a Halloween special or a limited-run thing, but at this point wouldn't be able to do the show again on a weekly basis. Contrary to what you may have guessed, the Creature Feature was a lot of work!!

SM: Tell me a little about your voiceover work. It seems that your voice is all over the place these days. How did you initially become involved as a voiceover artist? Where can your voice be heard?

CM: I was in radio before I got into TV, and I've been doing voice work since I got started in the business. It's full time work now. I'm the voice of about 40 radio and television stations in the U.S. and U.K., including KCPT here in Kansas City, WGHB/Boston, KEZK-FM in St. Louis and WMGC-FM/Detroit. You can hear me now doing promos for Animal Planet's newest show "World Gone Wild," and I'm the voice of HBO/Asia.

SM: Finally, how can I get one of those sweet Crematia Mortem promo cards?

CM: Get down on your knees and beg!

Night of the Eighties

2009-09-24T10:06:00.000-07:00

My favorite "Night of..." movies form the 80's, when cable TV was still somewhat psychotronic:

Don't Get Burned!

2009-09-22T10:05:00.000-07:00

Found at a flea market in Joplin, MO:

Terror in the Crypt of Haunted Fear!

2009-09-19T15:49:00.000-07:00

Every year we eagerly anticipate the newest incarnation of SPIRIT: THE HALLOWEEN STORE! And every year, we are alternately delighted and repulsed by the latest and greatest in seasonal shenanigans.

I brought along a camera this year to document our annual pilgrimage. We managed to squeeze in fifteen minutes or so of photographs before one of the employees ordered us to stop taking pictures "for SECURITY reasons."

Luckily, we got everything we needed before they sicced the goon squad on us. Feel free to use these pictures to help sponsor an Al Quaeda-style takeover of Halloween, 2009:

I would like to make an IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT-- as of NOW, Halloween Season 2009, the following costumes are absolutely FORBIDDEN until the end of forever:

Insane Clown Posse-themed "Scary Carnival" bullshit...

Adult Baby Accessories...

All forms of SEXY WITCHERY...

Frat-party-ready DRINKIN' AND SCREWIN'! costumes...

And, of course, ALL FORMS OF RACE-BASED CARICATURES. Seriously, what century is this? If places like this could get away with selling blackface, you know they would.

Of course, I'm always happy to see some of the old classics sticking around. Two of my personal favorites being GORILLA MASKS and OVERSIZED CARTOON HANDS:

I'll report back with an update on our haul soon, but right now we gotta get our asses to Kansas City and play a goddamn rock show!

The Monster and The Stripper, aka The Exotic Ones (1968)

2009-09-18T11:16:00.000-07:00

Your movie for the weekend:

A Whistle, A Wink, and a Smile....

2009-09-16T09:51:00.000-07:00

Details from an old grindhouse poster book I picked up for a quarter at Lost Eras in Chicago:

Gato Contra Perro!

2009-09-15T10:01:00.000-07:00

While trying to dig up info on two of my favorite rock combos (Los Saicos and Los Rockets, respectively), I stumbled across these gems:

Looks like I've got some new favorites to add to the list!

Things I Love About My Home State

2009-09-15T09:26:00.000-07:00

Every time I start to really sweat my Kansas existence, something comes along and reminds me why this is sometimes the most beautiful state in the nation.

MORE WINDY GOODNESS HERE, courtesy of the Daily Mail.

Skatetown, USA (1979)

2009-09-15T06:21:00.000-07:00

If you like disco, skates, bare chests, and leather belt whipping, Swayze was your man.

A Weekend With The Spook Lights

2009-09-14T16:44:00.000-07:00

We played a show over the weekend with our newest friends, BAD BLOOD REVIVAL and STUPID PARTY.

BAD BLOOD REVIVAL play fashionably savage dirge rock distilled from equal parts Black Sabbath and Killdozer. The kind of stuff that soundtracked my juvenile delinquency, as it were. I'm more than happy to see it coming back into style.

STUPID PARTY, on the other hand, are more of a low-fi, snarling fuzz outfit, dirty punks with the occasional surprising pop edge. Think early Dinosaur Jr, but drunker and with less attitude. A thirty minute blast of sound that warmed my spirit from head to toe.

All said, it was some of the most fun I've had in a while. I got drunk on whiskey and Night Train, then whacked myself in the face with a microphone before our band had even finished setting up. Curvacia was both lovely and lethal (as always), Jet Boy showed the audience that HAIRDRESSERS DO IT BETTER, and Zeppelina and The Meld once again proved to be a rock-solid rhythm unit, which proved to be a big help when I fell over backwards in a booze-induced stupor. Thanks for backing me up, gang!

An extra special THUMBS DOWN goes out to the crusty kids who tried to lure our door guy into the alleyway for a group beatdown. Tsk tsk tsk, kids... Don't they teach manners in school anymore?

Next weekend, we're onstage with LABRETTA SUEDE AND THE MOTEL 6 at Kansas City's very own RECORD BAR. And if you can't hold out that long before seeing us again, I would advise grabbing a ROLLER DERBY WORKOUT DVD and grooving to "Curvacia's Theme" while you trim off this summer's beer gut. See you at the rink!

Kong Awaits!

2009-09-14T06:56:00.000-07:00

I was jolted last year by THIS POST at Secret Fun Spot. As a child, Dinosaur World (or Land of Kong as it was then known) was the site of my fondest vacation memories. My parents took us there on a whim after visiting Silver Dollar City (a spectacle which deserves an entire blog of its own someday) and my child-brain was immediately melted by the SHEER AWESOME POWER of it all. Even as an adult, reflecting on that vacation, I always had trouble believing that something that incredible could ever exist in the world... So, of course, I convinced Curvacia to revisit the magic with me.

It took some searching, but we finally found it, buried deep in the hills of northern Arkansas. Little did I know our visit to Dinosaur World would be one of the last visits anyone would pay there, ever.

People Who Died- Died.

2009-09-13T19:54:00.000-07:00

Jim Carroll, RIP.

NYT Obit

TUFF TURF, for the kids!

Thrift Scores!

2009-09-13T09:45:00.000-07:00

Curvacia brought home a present from the Avenue Thrift in Kansas City yesterday... The Halloween stuff was out in full force, and she was able to snag an old trick-or-treat basket that someone converted into a lamp. She brought it home, we threw a blacklight in it, an viola! Instant scary!

Later in the afternoon, we hiked down to the antique mall, where I encountered this little gem:

Sample dialogue:

"I found a turkish bath not too far from the center of town. I put my wallet and the .38 in my locker, gave the attendant a dollar to give my clothes a good brushing, drank a gallon of water, and lay almost drowning in the thick steam."

This will look good on my shelf next to those old copies of FLESH BARON and SAY IT WITH BULLETS.

Young, Handsome, Undead.

2009-09-12T14:13:00.001-07:00

Check out they groovy spokesmodels for this year's zombie walk!

This year's annual Zombie Walk is at 8:30 pm on Sunday, October 11th. For more info, visit their Facebook page HERE.

The Girl In Black Stockings (1957)

2009-09-12T11:05:00.000-07:00

Your movie for the weekend:

Beware of Monsters!

2009-09-12T10:47:00.000-07:00

The plan: Buy ten dollars worth of goodies at the Social Service League thrift store and turn our purchases into art.

The event: The Percolator Gallery dime-bag show, August 1st, 2009.

The result: My daughter is a mad genius in training. Witness the fruit of our endeavors...

Introductions all around.

2009-09-11T11:52:00.000-07:00

This is ME:

This is my GIRLFRIEND:

This is OUR BAND:

These are our movies:

This is my DAUGHTER:

These are OUR CATS:

This is MY BIKE:

Welcome to the inside of my brain.