Monday, May 31, 2010


What do you get when you cross “Deliverance” with mountain-dwelling cannibal psychos? LUNCH MEAT!

Discovered this movie back in 1987 and procured a print of it at “Everything’s a Dollar” a few years back. This film is probably one reason that the term “straight to video” was invented.

The cover, as you can see, features Ol’ Harley “enjoying” a fresh meal courtesy of some hikers they ran into. There’s Pa, the leader of the clan and Harley’s brothers, Benny and Elwood. They’re fond of pickaxes and machetes, but not so keen on trespassers. With these implements, Pa and the boys can do their Christmas “chopping” all year ‘round!

I showed this movie to a friend, Andy Miller, when the both of us were still in the Coast Guard. To try to get under Andy’s skin (not like Harley does to his "snacks" in the movie, though), I suggested to him that LUNCH MEAT was a much better film than FOOTLOOSE (one of Andy’s favorites). We would continually argue this point in the offices of the Coast Guard Second District Building where we worked at the time. The staff there called us “Siskel and Ebert”.

The debate has lasted from that time and I suppose it will rage on until one of us concedes (which I don’t see happening). 22+ years have passed and there’s been no resolution yet.

Hey, Andy, they’re remaking FOOTLOOSE! Wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to make it a better film than the original, eh? You won’t see ‘em reimagining LUNCH MEAT, though, because it was a far superior film! There, Andrew, I’ve thrown down the gauntlet. The war continues.

Rating: FOOTLOOSE = Minus 9.

However, since LUNCH MEAT is the BEN-HUR of backwoods cannibal movies featuring deaf/mute maniacs named Harley, I have to give this one 7 out of 10 severed arms. If for no other reason than giving Harley something to munch on later.


I guess I should start out by clarifying that I am NOT a fan of the whole “Vampire Hunter” genre.

I can't even go into a book store (or even grocery stores that sell books) and not trip over the glut of books out there on vampires, vampire hunting and novels about women who fantasize being the lover of some hunky blood sucker (they’re calling these types of books “Paranormal Romances”). I could read one or two of them, but in the end, those are several hours of my life that I’ll never get back again. I do, however, still dig the early Christopher Lee Dracula films and the late Robert Quarry as Count Yorga.

However, ABRAHAM LINCOLN, VAMPIRE HUNTER was one I couldn’t resist and when I bought and read it, boy was I GLAD I couldn’t resist it!

As a young boy, Abe is traumatized when he comes into contact with vampires and decides to make it his life’s work to hunt them down and destroy them. He’s like Professor Van Helsing (whose first name was also “Abraham” – a synchronicity of some sort?).

He goes through a training period and then receives tips from a vampire he befriends on undead infestations in different places. Abe is dispatched to clean up whatever scourge he finds. Not even his later Presidency gets in the way of doing this.

You will learn the “real” reason behind President Lincoln’s assassination and the “truth” about John Wilkes Booth. Plus you’ll read about the relationship Abe had with Edgar Allan Poe.

This is fun reading for a summer weekend. I just read that Tim Burton may be doing a film version of this book.

Do yourself a favor and read it as soon as you can.

Saturday, May 29, 2010


Was at K-Mart this afternoon when a couple came strolling in with a young kid, a boy, who must have thought it was amusing to scream at what I presume to be the top of his lungs. He did this incessantly.

The young couple did nothing to quiet this little creep, despite the fact that they must have been aware of the stares they were getting. It appeared that they were not even smart enough to be embarrassed about it.

The kid should have been given a large dose of Thorazine and the parents should have been stood up against a wall and executed right on the spot. That might have happened had K-Mart been running a blue light special on rifles and ammo at that particular time. Failing that, a good strangling would have sufficed. From the looks on shoppers’ faces there, any of them could have easily choked the life out of these losers.

Parents of screaming brats: Do everyone a favor and STAY OUTTA THE STORES until your ape quiets down.


Originally titled I CHANGED MY SEX, this was supposed have been a telling of the Christine Jorgenson story. That idea fell through and Ed Wood wound up making this one instead.

I’ve never seen this DVD on sale individually; it was part of an Ed Wood box set. Rhino Video did put out a VHS version of this sometime prior to the release of the DVD box set.

Under the pseudonym Daniel Davis, Ed himself plays the title character(s). His then real-life girlfriend Dolores Fuller plays the sympathetic paramour. Bela Lugosi’s narration steers us through this strange little masterpiece.

My friend and Wood troupe regular Conrad Brooks has a couple of walk-on parts in the movie, one as a photographer at the beginning and then later as a man who tries to light “Glenda’s” cigarette.

It has been said that this movie was really Ed’s plea for understanding regarding his propensity for cross-dressing. This theory really gains ground when Ed later confirmed that the story of GLEN OR GLENDA was, indeed, his own story.

Another wooden performance from Timothy Farrell as the psychiatrist. Almost fell asleep as Farrell was spouting his dialogue.

I give this one 6 “Angora Sweaters” out of 10.


Sol Weinstein & Howard Albrecht wrote some of the funniest scripts for the Mary Tyler Moore Show, amongst other television series. They found time to collaborate on several book projects.

You can already guess what this book is spoofing. I haven’t read it for a number of years; so I need to revisit it so that I can enjoy it all over again.

As with their books, they have PAGES of dedications which are just as fun to read as their books.


Welcome back, Mike Hammer!

Actually, Mike returned last year in the novel, THE GOLIATH BONE. It was the first Hammer teaming of Mickey Spillane and Max Allan Collins, and was a more modern story. It was the book Mr. Spillane was working on at the time of his death. For those of us who have followed the Hammer books over the years, it was good to finally see Mike and his secretary Velda married to each other. They’d been nuts about each other, but Mike was never ready for the big commitment.

THE BIG BANG takes us back to the 60’s during the time when Mike’s temper was less controlled. Part of his “charm” was his propensity to pull stitches out of someone’s cheek while trying to get information. As I haven’t read THE BIG BANG yet (just bought it yesterday), I don’t yet know what kind of brutality might be inflicted on the bad guy(s) here – but I’m lookin’ forward to it!

Max (I get to call him “Al”, which he prefers) is absolutely the dead-on perfect choice to continue the Mike Hammer legacy. Al was very close to Mr. Spillane for a number of years and did a written study of his work called ONE LONELY KNIGHT.

I hope the Hammer books continue to sell well. I’m anxious to see which directions Al will take Mike Hammer. Thanks, Al, for agreeing to carry the Hammer torch. It couldn't be in more capable hands.

Friday, May 28, 2010


This one is a “specialty” DVD and holds a place in my heart. One, because it is a treat to watch and two, it was VERY reasonably priced. Cheap is good.

The people who put this together devoted approximately one minute each for every film clip shown. There are funny graphics, too, of people throwing popcorn and popcorn boxes at the movie screen which only adds to the enjoyment of the program.

I found this DVD at Borders about 3 years ago. shows that it is still available. Good luck, it’s well worth having.


When American International Pictures achieved a level of success with BLACULA, they must have figured that the next logical step was to do the same thing to the Frankenstein franchise. Hence, we have BLACKENSTEIN. The Funkified Frankenstein treatment began and ended with this film. They already had two more sequels on the drawing board, but it fared so poorly that they said “the hell with it” and went on to make SCREAM, BLACULA, SCREAM.

Joe DeSue, who hasn’t been heard from since, is the unlucky recruit to become the monster. Unfortunately, the lighting is so bad on this film that it’s very hard to see him on the screen. Maybe they took the position that if you don’t see him clearly, it will be more scary during his attack scenes. The likely answer, though, is that they had incompetent techs working the camera lights.

For years I couldn’t wait to see this movie. When I finally did, I thought, “THIS is what I waited for?” Take it from me, it’s only marginally interesting in spots. The highlight is when Stu Gilliam, playing a stereotypical pimp, is killed. The dogs tearing apart the monster would have been something to see – if only we had been able to actually see it.

Rating: 1 Neckbolt out of a possible 10. And that’s being magnanimous.


What’s more frightening than a carnivorous carpet from outer space? Let’s see…..

Gas pains.
Running out of wine.
The rising cost of postage stamps.
Cold ravioli.
Alcohol prep pads.
Pop Tarts with Candy Sprinkles.
Cream Cheese and Chive Crackers.
Hefty Bags.

Actually, I should probably not list everything that’s more frightening than this film, because neither of us have that kind of time. I’ll say, instead, that EVERYTHING is scarier than this movie.

That’s not to say that the movie isn’t entertaining in its own strange way.

We have a movie that, while being made, was frought with dishonesty, incompetence and an almost complete lack of sensible scripting. Perhaps that movie that was made was not the movie that was scripted.

It would take too long, again, to list everything that’s wrong with this movie, but suffice it to say that it has been ridiculed, it has been scorned and it also has been included in several bad sci-fi movie DVD sets you might still be able to find other there.

Depending on who you ask, THE CREEPING TERROR is considered to be one of the “Unholy Three” of bad movies of all time (PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE and ROBOT MONSTER are the other two).

The most obvious funny thing about this is that the “victims” appear to have to throw or pull themselves into the “mouth” of this killer carpet.

This movie is NOT a waste of time when one considers how funny it is in contrast to what it was supposed to be.

Soundtrack music by “Dr. Frederick Kopp”. Let’s hope the Doctor was sued for musical malpractice.

I give this one 2 “Rug Doctors” out of a possible 10.


Being of a fan of those “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town…Pissed Off and With an Axe” type stories, this book was a gift that went beyond all expectations.

It says on both the hardcover and paperback cover: “A Fairy Tale for Grown-ups”. This means EXACTLY what it says.

Santa is quite the horn dog here. In addition to Mrs. Claus, he swings with the Tooth Fairy and a mistress on the side (and on her back, too, come to think of it). There’s a scene in the book where he leaves a special “ingredient” on some candy canes. Good thing I already hated peppermint or this scene might have otherwise sworn me off these Christmas treats.

Mrs. Claus is no angel in this either. She gets serviced by elves and even the Easter Bunny makes a guest appearance.

The special illustrated edition hardcover of SANTA STEPS OUT retailed for $40.00. I found mine at a book sale at the St. Louis County Library about two years ago. Paid a buck for it. The book was signed by author Robert Devereaux and numbered as 235 of 1000 copies printed; I had no idea at the time that I was buying an autographed book. If only I can get Mr. Devereaux to autograph my paperback copy as well.

Horrifying, disgusting and downright grotesque – and those are the GOOD points. If you have a sense of humor (the stranger, the better), you are going to love this book. I suppose that this is why SANTA STEPS OUT has developed a cult following. Highly recommended.


Despite what you are seeing on the cover of the DVD here, Chesty Morgan isn’t all that sexy. Ok, she looks like a carnival ride that most men would want to go on, but there’s really too much of a vacancy behind those eyes to make it enjoyable. Or at least for me.

It’s oddly fascinating to watch Chesty killing (smothering) people with those huge gourds. No wonder this movie did so well at low-rent movie houses. Word of mouth on this must have been phenomenal!

Directed by the legendary Doris Wishman, this movie is basically a revenge picture. Her crook boyfriend is murdered by the mob and she takes the law into her own….uh, knockers. She incapacitates those responsible and takes her top off to smother them with her DEADLY WEAPONS!! It’s almost interesting.

Ms. Wishman had an annoying technique of NOT focusing the camera on the person speaking at the moment; the movie turns about to be a series of reaction shots. Perhaps this was because she was shooting the film silent only to later dub in dialogue. Chesty was from Israel and did speak at least some English, but probably had a terrible voice and so was dubbed for her off-camera dialogue.

To give us something to look at, aside from Chesty’s gazongas, the director has our star do a (completely uninspired) bathtub scene. Her bare bum is not shapely, either, so let the yawning begin.

Doris later used Chesty in a spy film called DOUBLE AGENT 73. Info on this will come in a separate posting.

Nowadays, Chesty’s age can’t be too far away from being the same as her chest size, so it’s easy to imagine that the hounds are hangin’ even lower than they are in this film.

Only worth seeing if your sense of curiousity overwhelms your desire not to waste an hour and half.


Oh, how the mighty had fallen. By 1966, one-time Hollywood A-lister Dana Andrews accepted a role in THE FROZEN DEAD as a Nazi scientist who continues his work on reanimating dead tissue. He’s got all kinds of body parts to experiment on and a lab freezer full of preserved German soldiers.

The not-so-good Doctor expects a visit to his castle from his niece who has no idea of her Uncle’s past. She unexpectedly brings a female friend along. At some point in the film, the friend is killed and becomes the Doc’s experimental subject. Her head is removed (see above) and reanimated in the lab.

Anyway the niece finds out about this and in the climax, all her friend’s head asks over and over again is “Bury Me”, then we fade to black, end credits roll.

I’m willing to bet that Andrews later wished they could have buried this film instead.

Gruesome, but mildly interesting. All scenes with the head were creepy, so this is not for kids.


I’ve always loved satire, so this book was right up my alley.

I bought this many years ago at Venture (anybody remember that store?) for the huge sum of just 33 cents. Star Books is or was a London Publishing Company and in fact, most of the 33 cent books I bought that day were from English publishers.

“Hear My Side – Fur Can Be Beautiful” reads the tag on the back cover of the book. The Kongster reveals that his first name is “Stan”, talks about his alcoholism, bad hearing, his feud with the C.I.A. and a hernia that not even the best doctors can fix. Don’t even get him started on Fay Wray!

A funny thing happened to him on his way to the Empire State Building….


I’ve had an obsession with the story of the Helter Skelter murders since 1976 when I saw the two-part TV movie HELTER SKELTER with Steve Railsback as Charlie. I’ve read and seen everything I could get my hands on about the case.

During an outing a few months ago, I came across a bargain priced DVD called THE BONEYARD. It was about the crimes of Leonard Lake and Charles Ng, who had a sex slave/killing ground thing going in the California hills where Lake had a self-styled compound. I noticed as I was looking at the DVD box, that it contained an extra disc with a program called THE SIX DEGREES OF HELTER SKELTER. Of course I snatched it right up.

Hosted by Scott Michaels, who runs Dearly Departed Tours in Los Angeles, THE SIX DEGREES OF HELTER SKELTER takes you every known location in the story of Helter Skelter. Mr. Michaels shows us Music Teacher and Manson Victim Gary Hinman’s former house, we see what’s left of the Barker and Spahn Ranches, Mama Cass Elliott’s home, Dennis Wilson’s bungalow (which was being renovated at the time of filming) and, of course, the sites of the actual Tate and LaBianca murders. I learned plenty of things I never knew before.

The Tate residence was bulldozed in 1993, but Mr. Michaels takes us up the gate of the property on the anniversary of the murders. Another structure now rests on the site.

The LaBianca home still stands and we get to see that as well.

For anyone who likes true crime stuff, this is one of the most fascinating DVDs you will see. Highly recommended.


This is the legendary book trio by the Brothers Medved, Harry & Michael.

Unofficially, the spark which led to the Golden Turkey Awards books began with THE FIFTY WORST FILMS OF ALL TIME, which Harry Medved wrote with Randy Dreyfuss. Michael Medved was more a “behind the scenes “ guy in the preparation of this book. I found this book many years after the Golden Turkey books were published.

The first book in the recognized trilogy, THE GOLDEN TURKEY AWARDS, really had a profound influence on me (and the world, really). I found it in 1983 and it began me on my journey to find, own and appreciate the “alternative classics” written about in this book. I’ve referred to this book so much that the binding is falling apart. Gonna have it get that fixed someday.

Rhino Records, with the Medveds’ help, issued a “soundtrack” Golden Turkey album which featured the “best music from the worst films”.

Next up, because of fan demand, was SON OF GOLDEN TURKEY AWARDS. More of the wonderful same thing. With this book, the Medveds wanted to pass the bad movie torch to future writers, but did go on to have a third book published, THE HOLLYWOOD HALL OF SHAME. These books are invaluable.

The Medveds have gone on to become Hollywood insiders. I still periodically see them in this documentary or that one. They left us a wonderful legacy of bad film appreciation. Thanks, Harry and Michael – we couldn’t have done this with you. Things would not have been nearly as much fun without you guys.


In an attempt to cash in on the success of his “Our Gang” comedies, Hal Roach inflicted this film on the world in 1940s. For several reasons, this series did not really go anywhere.

This was the first Hal Roach movie I’d ever seen in color. Perhaps this is so that the audience could better appreciate the scene in which one of the black children becomes so frightened in the haunted house that he turns white. I suppose it’s worth seeing this movie just for that bit simply because it’s so outrageous.

How’s THIS for demeaning? The two black children in this movie are referred to as “Dis N’ Dat” – apparently Roach was trying to channel the “Stymie” and “Buckwheat” characters from the “Our Gang” shorts. “Dis N’ Dat” did NOT become a new comedy team sensation. In fact none of the “main” child stars seem to have gone on to other show biz endeavors. My foggy memory does tell me that either Dis or Dat achieved some success as part of a doo wop group sometime in the 1950s.

One wonders if it was movies like this which ultimately forced character actor & co-star George Zucco into a sanitarium. He was probably better off in that place rather than continue to grind out schlock like this.


Obviously trying to cash in on the 1970’s success of “The Sensuous Woman” and “The Sensuous Man”, Pinnacle Books rushed out this knockoff shortly thereafter.
Written by someone named Paul Warren (probably a “house” name, i.e., a name created by the publishing company under which several writers could work), I’m sure that we were supposed to think that Warren was some well-known stud who knew what he was talking about.

I read this as a teenager (no, my parents did not know I had this book), and even so I can remember thinking that it was b.s. From what I recall, the “tips” given in this book were pretty much common sense advice, such as don’t overdo the cologne, shower daily, manicure, etc. At least I remember that in “The Sensuous Male” you were given tongue exercises to do. THAT I could see would be handy in the coming (so to speak) years.

I wonder how many guys felt that this was $1.25 wasted at the bookstore. Luckily, I only paid a quarter for it at a local used book emporium. It was worth it all those years ago just so that I could talk about it now.

Thursday, May 27, 2010


Ok, it isn’t “Rio Bravo”. It’s not “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral”, either. Heck, it isn’t even “Blazing Saddles”, but then, what is?

This is THE TERROR OF TINY TOWN! Made in 1938, it’s the one and only Midget Western. It’s earned kudos for it’s uniqueness and has been panned for everything else, earning itself a spot in the book “The Fifty Worst Films of All Time”.

“Little” Billy Rhodes plays Bat Haynes, the villain of the piece while another Billy, Billy Curtis, is our hero, Buck Lawson. A large number of the movie’s cast would appear in “The Wizard of Oz” the following year.

Other than the midget thing, it was no worse (or better) than any other low-brow film studio’s Westerns in those days. I was never a fan of singing cowboys, so sometimes it’s a struggle for me to get through the musical scenes of this movie. However, when we get to people walking UNDER saloon doors and riding Shetland Ponies, the film kind of evens out for me.

In almost every cut I’ve seen of this movie, it is introduced by a regular sized announcer. He has to break up a fight between Little Billy and Billy Curtis as they argue over who has the star part in the picture.

You can still see this film on late-night TV. A few months ago my wife said she saw it after midnight on the Disney Channel. Good place for it. It’s also available as a free download if you know where to look.

Can’t say that I remember seeing anyone else from this movie in subsequent films, except for Billy Curtis, who went on to co-star with Clint Eastwood in “High Plains Drifter”, amongst other things.

I’d say we’re due for a re-make or, as Hollywood now calls them, “a re-imagining” of “The Terror of Tiny Town”. Political correctness be damned, midget actors could use the work.


Actually Jesse is meeting up with the Grand-daughter of the famous monster maker, but they probably would not have been able to fit “Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Grand-daughter” onto a marquee.

This is a companion film to “Billy The Kid Vs. Dracula”. The star of that movie, John Carradine, once referred to BTKVD as “a real piece of crap”. No one argued.

JESSE JAMES MEETS FRANKENSTEIN'S DAUGHTER runs neck and neck with BTKVD in its real “crap-ness. It’s certainly not the first “monster” western I’d seen – that was CURSE OF THE UNDEAD with Michael Pate as a vampire cowboy. JJMFD is particularly awful in part because of female lead Narda Onyx’s complete lack of screen presence. The other part of its awfulness comes from director William Beaudine’s refusal to do second takes even when obvious mistakes have been made. Perhaps this is why Beaudine is considered a genius. Well, that, and the fact that he brought ‘em in on time and underbudget.

Male lead John Lupton, on a summer break from the television series “Daktari”, obviously had no other irons in the fire employment-wise, and opted to take the role of Jesse James. His performance in the film is closest to being adequately professional.

I don’t know where they dug up Cal Bolder (who becomes the monster, Igor, in the film), but they should have re-buried him on the spot.

Estrelita, who plays Juanita in the film, fell to the bottom of the cinematic barrel here after having worked in John Wayne’s classic “Rio Bravo”. She only went by her first name and it was misspelled in the opening credits. To make matters worse, she died shortly thereafter. JJMFD is not exactly the kind of movie you want as your epitaph.

What’s the best thing about this movie? The video box cover. ‘Nuff said.


Here’s another $5 Wal-Mart Special. And for good reason, too.

Former pop singer Debbie (oops, sorry, make that DEBORAH) Gibson “stars” as a scientist with a love of the deep blue sea.

While on an undersea cruise, Deborah thinks she see a prehistoric shark and octopus released from an icy prison where they had been trapped for millions of years. Turns out she was right. Each beast goes its own way but are lured together to fight to the death in the film’s climax. This after all of man’s attempts to kill them had failed.

It’s a pretty ho-hum movie.

Best thing about it, though, was the Mega Shark flying completely out of the water, through the clouds and taking a jumbo jet down to its feeding ground far below the surface of the water. This happens just after a flight attendant assures the passengers that everything was ok, that they were just experiencing turbulence.

Worst thing about the movie: the so-called “acting” of Deborah Gibson and Lorenzo Lamas. Lamas should have put forth more of an effort and Gibson really doesn’t have the theatrical chops for this sort of thing. It kept running through my mind as I was watching this movie that I would liked to have handed a paper bag to Ms. Gibson and ask her act her way out of it. If she had tried to do that I believe she would have suffocated.

Deborah, please “Shake Your Love” somewhere else and stay out of the movies, will you, dear? The whole world will thank you.


50 pounds and a black dress.
A bull with a cleft palate.
A dry Martinez.
A frog in a blender.
A kid who spray paints his name on chain link fences.
A snowblower that doesn’t work.
A toilet doesn’t follow you around for months after you use it.
About 300 yen.
An Italian suppository.
And so Vanna White says to Mother Theresa, "Bitch!”
Asthma? But I thought you said you would run away with me!
At your wedding, father!
Because everyone is always getting rear ended over there!
Because it was stapled to the chicken!
Because the cats bury them.
But Franklin, I’m not even WEARING a gas mask!
Dalai Lama, Dolly Parton – there's a difference?
Every time we get in the shower together, she starts molting!
Forget the honeymoon, the alimony will give me a better screwing!
Gee, we put cream and sugar on ours!
Getting a second opinion.
Good grief, can it whistle too?
He must be fine, he stopped yellin’ yesterday!
Hey lady, don’t you have anything smaller?
Hold on, let me get my hat.
How much for a season pass?
I did that already – you start back to work on Monday!
I don't care how hard-up you are, nobody masturbates to the Pottery Barn catalog.
I don't know, but it's on your left shoulder!
I just took a couple of inches off the top of your rain boots.
I prefer white meat, but the rosemary was an inspired addition to the recipe.
I think I’ll have the buffet.
I thought it was your butt – everything else is so high around here!
I thought you said “goat”!
I wanted to see how I would look with a beard.
I was so busy eating potatoes and listening to U2, I forgot to get drunk!
I was talking to the duck.
I’m going to start grazing, but you better brace yourself.
I’m going upstairs to get my teeth!
If this doesn’t work, come back and we’ll put you to sleep.
If you think that's good, wait till you see the floor show!
In a pinch, you could eat the bowling ball.
It opens on impact.
It tastes just like Spotted Owl, Your Honor.
It’s your turn in the barrel tonight.
I've got you fooled today, I'm not wearing any!
Jell-O shakes when you eat it.
Madam, that's not a fly in your soup – it's a tiny spool of pubic hair!
Make up your mind – I have to readjust the chair!
May I ask what the chicken did?
New Jersey got to choose first.
No, but you'll find out what that thing is for!
No, we figured out what's causing it!
No, we just use the camel to ride into town.
None of us could get the lid off the specimen cup.
Not enough sand.
Now you know why they call that mustard 'Poupon’!
OK, now it's MY turn to cough!
Okay, whose nipples are whistling?
Only two, but I don't know how they got in there!
Six more weeks of basketball season.
So did I. I just didn’t think he would do it again.
So the moral of the story is, never get a vasectomy from an unlicensed electrician!
So they can look like their mothers!
So they’ll have someplace to park their bicycles.
Someone who knocks on your door for no reason!
Someone yelling “Bingo!”
Sure, let me hold your monkey!
Tell that to Mrs. Truman!
That wasn't Jamaican Gold – it was a pile of my bunion shavings!
That's no lady, that's Maury Povich!
That's no woman! That's my wife! My wife the circus gorilla!
Then you are a mile away and you have no shoes.
They always eat what they shoot.
They have three and a half inch floppies!
They’re both meat substitutes.
To hide the No-Pest Strips.
To impress Jodie Foster.
To keep the Cheerleaders from grazing.
To prove he had guts!
Toxic Sock Syndrome!
Two! One to hide INSIDE the cardboard box and one to secrete!
Wanna go make out behind Fuddruckers?
Well captain, you told me to keep the cockpit clean!
Well, I can’t ever show my face in McDonald’s again!
Well, why don't you ask him? Maybe he'll let you!
What did you expect for 10 bucks – lobster?
What paté? This is my stool sample.
Whoa! I don’t remember eating THAT!Do you think I should’ve said “DiMaggio”?
Yep, she's pregnant too!
You can’t let these things hatch!
You know the rules – no arms, no cookies!
You must have an awfully wide stance.
You should see me when I'm clog-dancing topless!
You’re right, it DOES feel like your wife’s butt!
Your name never came up.


I was thrilled to find this turkey on DVD a couple of years ago. It’s one of my favorite “bad” films because of its sheer incompetence.

Also known as “Mars Attacks Puerto Rico”, FMTSM used to play on local St. Louis television stations as part of either “Creature Feature” or “Chiller Theater”. This is how I first became familiar and fell in love with it.

There’s really not much of a story here. Colonel Frank Saunders, a humanoid, is shot into space and then shot right back down by space people. Frank is damaged in a fire and goes on a killing spree. Meanwhile, the aliens land and kidnap some of our women as breeding stock. Frank arrives on the scene, fights the monster and the aliens hightail it out of here. That, in a nutshell, is it. It’s cheap schlock, but it’s ENTERTAINING cheap schlock.

Crispin Glover’s dad, Bruce, plays both the Space Monster and a bald, pointy-eared alien in this movie.

When trying to learn more about Robert Reilly, our movie’s Frankenstein, Wikipedia points to a New York Government website page for a man with this same name. There is no indication, one way or the other, that this is the same man. But then, if YOU were in this movie, wouldn’t you want deniability as well?


Peripherally reminiscent of the film THEY SAVED HITLER’S BRAIN, this odd novel comes from the pen of one “Roland Puccetti”. I’d never heard of Mr. Puccetti before this book and am unaware of anything he might have published since then.

This book was first recommended to me by writer Jeffrey Wallmann. Another writer by the name of Bill Pronzini was writing a sequel to a study he’d done on bad book fiction called GUN IN CHEEK. For SON OF GUN IN CHEEK, Bill had a copy of THE DEATH OF THE FUHRER on hand, but had no real idea of the treasure contained therein.

Jeff asked Bill for THE DEATH OF THE FUHRER to send to me, but once Bill really found out what the book had in it, he held onto it. The copy I eventually wound up with I found on my own. SON OF GUN IN CHEEK went on to cite the most infamous scene in THE DEATH OF THE FUHRER. At the risk of “spoiling” it for you, I’m going to tell you about this scene.

The hero of our story makes his way through several adventures trying to discover the truth about Adolf Hitler’s death. In the interim, he beds a buxom lady (presumably the woman you see pictured on the cover of the book). Suddenly, as he looks into her eyes during the lovemaking process, she makes a statement confessing to being the Fuhrer! Yes, our hero is screwing Hitler! Adolf’s diabolical brain was transplanted into this woman’s head!

I’ve seen the cover for what I believe the British version of this novel. It kind of gives away this plot detail by showing a woman on the cover wearing a Hitler mustache.

I don’t remember much about the book after the sex scene, because although I knew ahead of time that this scene was coming, I was laughing too hard to recall much of what happened after that. This is why I must re-read it.

For that scene alone, this is a classic novel. Highly recommended. That is, if you can find it.


Those of you know me personally will also know that I have a strange fondness for not just grade “B” movies, but Grade “Z” movies as well. Periodically, I will post of these discoveries and – as in the case of MONSTURD – let the “chips” fall where they may.

In late Summer of 2006, as I was on recuperative leave from work due to a triple by-pass, we went into a local “Blockbuster” video store. I never go there to rent DVDs (I’ve never rented a DVD in my life, at least up to this point), but to check out what used DVDs they are selling from their shelves.

While flipping through the “5 DVDs for $20.00” section, I came across something called MONSTURD. As I picked it up to look at it, I thought, “No, this just can’t be; no one would make a movie like this.” I looked around to see if perhaps I was on one of those “hidden camera” type shows. Didn’t spot anything.

Since I was actually holding it in my hands and gazing upon its disturbing cover, I couldn’t bloody well deny that it existed. The problem was that if I told people there was such a movie as this, I didn’t feel anyone would believe me. So, yeah, I picked out four other movies with it, plunked down my $20 plus tax and headed on home.

My wife doesn’t particularly enjoy horror films, so I waited until the next working day and plugged this little “treasure” into the DVD player. I have to tell you, it was every bit as tasteless, nauseating and gross as I expected it would be – but it was also very funny. I can forgive a film almost anything as long as it has some intrinsic entertainment value.

The plot goes something like this: a serial killer named Jack Schmitt (get it?) escapes from custody and winds up in a sewer where he falls into a vat of, well, SOMETHING. As it turns out there is a chemical mixed in with this SOMETHING and it splices into Jack’s gene pool, resulting in a walking (not talking, but grunting), serial killing Turd Man. There, I’ve said it, let’s move on.

Without going into too much detail, Jack makes his kills and leaves rooms over the area very messy. If you study the actor’s faces closely, you can sometimes catch them almost “breaking” from character and nearly giving in to the temptation to laugh.

The person most responsible for the chemical spill/cover-up faces his creation in the climax of the movie, proving once again that a-holes usually get what’s coming to them.

Don’t be eating anything while watching this movie; if you don’t throw up your popcorn, you might laugh hard enough to pass several of the kernels through your nose.

Included in the extras is footage of the film’s theatrical premiere. The “Turd Man” outfit is on prominent display at the theater. How this didn’t discourage people from seeing this movie, I’ll never be able to figure it out.

Thank God that this one is not on MY acting resume! This will probably not be a career booster for the “stars” of this movie – in fact, I think that years from now it will came back and bite them on, well, their butts (sorry).

On a scale of 10 tubes of “Preparation H”, I’ll give this one 4 tubes.


What follows is a reprint from an old brochure written in 1894 by Ruth Smythers, wife of Rev. L. D. Smythers. By today’s standards, it is absolutely hysterical, but I suppose in its day was not supposed to be tongue-in-cheek. I’ve corrected any errors that I’ve found, so this is not a “pure” reproduction.

All I can really say for sure was that ol’ Ruthie must have been a real dragon in her day – and probably had all the sex appeal of a carbuncle. Oh, well, please enjoy it for what it’s worth!

To the sensitive young woman who has had the benefits of proper upbringing, the wedding day is, ironically, both the happiest and most terrifying day of her life. On the positive side, there is the wedding itself, in which the bride is the central attraction in a beautiful and inspiring ceremony, symbolizing her triumph in securing a male to provide for all her needs for the rest of her life. On the negative side, there is the wedding night, during which the bride must pay the piper, so to speak, by facing for the first time the TERRIBLE experience of sex.
At this point, dear reader, let me concede one shocking truth. Some young women actually anticipate the wedding night ordeal with curiosity and pleasure! Beware such an attitude! A selfish and sensual husband can easily take advantage of such a bride. One cardinal rule of marriage should never be forgotten: GIVE LITTLE, GIVE SELDOM, AND ABOVE ALL, GIVE GRUDGINGLY. Otherwise what could have been a proper marriage could become an orgy of sexual lust.
On the other hand, the bride's terror need not be extreme. While sex is, at best, revolting and at worst rather painful, it has to be endured, and has been by women since the beginning of time, and is compensated for by the monogamous home and by the children produced through it. It is useless, in most cases, for the bride to prevail upon the groom to forego the sexual initiation. While the ideal husband would be one who would approach his bride only at her request and only for the purpose of begetting offspring, such nobility and unselfishness cannot be expected from the average man.
Most men, if not denied, would demand sex almost every day. The wise bride will permit a maximum of two brief sexual experiences weekly during the first months of marriage. As time goes by she should make every effort to reduce this frequency.
Feigned illness, sleepiness, and headaches are among the wife's best friends in this matter. Arguments, nagging, scolding, and bickering also prove very effective, if used in the late evening about an hour before the husband would normally commence his seduction.
Clever wives are ever on the alert for new and better methods of denying and discouraging the amorous overtures of the husband. A good wife should expect to have reduced sexual contacts to once a week by the end of the first year of marriage and to once a month by the end of the fifth year of marriage.
By their tenth anniversary many wives have managed to complete their child bearing and have achieved the ultimate goal of terminating all sexual contacts with the husband. By this time she can depend upon his love for the children and social pressures to hold the husband in the home. Just as she should be ever alert to keep the quantity of sex as low as possible, the wise bride will pay equal attention to limiting the kind and degree of sexual contacts. Most men are by nature rather perverted, and if given half a chance, would engage in quite a variety of the most revolting practices. These practices include among others performing the normal act in abnormal positions; mouthing the female body; and offering their own vile bodies to be mouthed in turn.
Nudity, talking about sex, reading stories about sex, viewing photographs and drawings depicting or suggesting sex are obnoxious habits the male is likely to acquire if permitted.
A wise bride will make it the goal never to allow her husband to see her unclothed body, and never allow him to display his unclothed body to her. Sex, when it cannot be prevented, should be practiced only in total darkness. Many women have found it useful to have thick cotton nightgowns for themselves and pajamas for their husbands. These should be donned in separate rooms. They need not be removed during the sex act. Thus, a minimum of flesh is exposed.
Once the bride has donned her gown and turned off all the lights, she should lie quietly upon the bed and await her groom. When he comes groping into the room she should make no sound to guide him in her direction, lest he take this as a sign of encouragement. She should let him grope in the dark. There is always the hope that he will stumble and incur some slight injury which she can use as an excuse to deny him sexual access.
When he finds her, the wife should lie as still as possible. Bodily motion on her part could be interpreted as sexual excitement by the optimistic husband.
If he attempts to kiss her on the lips she should turn her head slightly so that the kiss falls harmlessly on her cheek instead. If he attempts to kiss her hand, she should make a fist. If he lifts her gown and attempts to kiss her anyplace else she should quickly pull the gown back in place, spring from the bed, and announce that nature calls her to the toilet. This will generally dampen his desire to kiss in the forbidden territory.
If the husband attempts to seduce her with lascivious talk, the wise wife will suddenly remember some trivial non-sexual question to ask him. Once he answers she should keep the conversation going, no matter how frivolous it may seem at the time.
Eventually, the husband will learn that if he insists on having sexual contact, he must get on with it without amorous embellishment. The wise wife will allow him to pull the gown up no farther than the waist, and only permit him to open the front of his pajamas to thus make connection.
She will be absolutely silent or babble about her housework while he is huffing and puffing away. Above all, she will lie perfectly still and never under any circumstances grunt or groan while the act is in progress. As soon as the husband has completed the act, the wise wife will start nagging him about various minor tasks she wishes him to perform on the morrow. Many men obtain a major portion of their sexual satisfaction from the peaceful exhaustion immediately after the act is over. Thus the wife must insure that there is no peace in this period for him to enjoy. Otherwise, he might be encouraged to soon try for more.
One heartening factor for which the wife can be grateful is the fact that the husband's home, school, church, and social environment have been working together all through his life to instill in him a deep sense of guilt in regards to his sexual feelings, so that he comes to the marriage couch apologetically and filled with shame, already half cowed and subdued. The wise wife seizes upon this advantage and relentlessly pursues her goal first to limit, later to annihilate completely, her husband's desire for sexual expression.