A Christmas Tradition

 Starting to feel a little festive around here!

"Hello, my name is Klaus, I'm a manager at Rustler's and I wanted you to come in for an interview."

...And that was how it all started. I was fresh off my seventeenth birthday and was recently "relieved" of my duties at Big John's.  All of this left a young Cheeks DeBelly trying to afford both gas and drug money in the spring of '85. Every spare moment was used filling out job applications. In a surprising fact, Rustler was not the first interview I went on. The day before I received the call from Klaus, I was invited to come and interview for a job at McDonald's. So I went to the interview at Mickey Dee's and the following day I had set up my interview for Rustler Steak House. Now beggars can't be choosers and I had already accepted a job at McDonald's the previous day, but I figured "What the heck? Just go and see what happens." Besides I had never actually spoken to someone named Klaus, it could have been fun.

 

The next day I drove to Marlton and parked "The Stang" (before it got the most awesomest paint job, at the time it was brown, it would soon be "Hell Black". That was the name of the paint. It was of course black but when you got up close to it there was red flecks in it. Way cool. But I digress. I interviewed and he offered me a job. Now here was my first exposure to the business world and I was suddenly a commodity that was in high demand. How the hell did that happen? Yeah, I know, 17 year olds looking for a minimum wage part time job are so hard to find. Now I had to make a decision. It was actually a "no brainer" Rustler was only a few miles down the street, not even 6 miles to be exact.  McDonald's was in Voorhees, which was near where I went to high school and thought it would be cool to be able to leave school and go right to work. My first schedule I was given for McD's were all 6-11 shifts. I was done school at 2:15, what the frigg? I told the manager when I interviewed it would be good if I could get like 3:00 shifts since leaving school and driving home and then driving back only to work five hours and drive back home again wasn't what I was looking for. Shit, all my money would be spent on gas alone. Seemed kinda pointless as well as weedless.

 

On the other hand... Klaus, who after conferring with his boss (who happened to be Cindy Johnson, later to be Cindy Johnson Barr, and a very close friend of mine for many years) said I was hired at Rustler and could I come in for my training. I asked him what was my schedule. He said he could give me between 20 and thirty hours a week usually 3-9 or 4-10 shifts.

 

We have a winner!

 

So the rest is history. But I often wonder what it would have been like if I had worked at the golden arches instead? Considering I met my best friend working at Rustler and even though time has taken away the innocence and naivete of that seventeen year old boy it has given me lasting memories, when the memory works. A lifetime of laughter, fun, tears, love, and somewhere out there is someone who knows why I said "Burma". All in all, I'd say it was a good choice.

The Mustache That Says "I Love You"

 

I will treat you all to a story, that I have told before, and that is unfortunately true. It would have to be, I mean there is no reason to make up what you are about to read. Some of you know the story already and to you I ask that you either suffer through yet another retelling or simply go away and leave me with what dignity I still have. Those of you that do not know the story, please to enjoy as I tell you the story of "Cheeks and the self imposed Dirty Sanchez!"

 

A few winter seasons ago I found myself home alone with a day off from work and nothing much to do. I was lounging around the apartment while tooling around the information super highway. I was two cups of coffee into my day when I felt the first grumblings of a sweet AMS (Awesome Morning Shit) and I decided I would kill two birds with one stone and refill my coffee mug on the way back from the commode. I dropped off my coffee mug in the kitchen and took my normal position for a nice movement. It was quite uneventful and after a few moments my crap sausages were completely deposited into their watery grave. I then began the paperwork part and a little background info is needed here: I am usually a three wipe and done guy, unless there are extenuating circumstances i.e. the brown apple splatters - in which case it might just be easier to get in the shower and deal with it than going through wipe after wipe trying and clean that up. But as I said this was an uneventful evacuation and after the first wipe I did the wipers version of "spell check" and inspected the paper and found that it was unmarred by the second wiping. Wow I almost had myself a "Walk Away" awesome indeed.
 

 

After I flushed the fetid tootsie turds I made for the kitchen to fetch myself a fresh cup of coffee. I added cream and sugar, stirred, sample taste, ahhh, perfect, and started back toward the computer. A few steps removed from the kitchen I found myself the recipient of a wriggling ass itch. You know the kind where it makes you do a little dance before you even get to dig in and it feels like something is burrowing its way into your rectum. Well, I got that approximately 10 seconds before I got one of those itches across the tip of my nose that is 49% painful and 51% itch. You know the kind that makes your eyes water in the few seconds it takes you to get there and scratch it. Well, I had one hand full with a hot cup of coffee so there was only one solution it would seem. Use my free hand to scratch both offending areas. Which I proceeded to do.


 

Now, let me tell you what really happened in the bathroom: When I wiped the first time, two entire squares of TP remained in my colon and formed a barrier between the second wiping attempt and the horrid mess that so needed that second (and a third) wipes attention. I dug between my cheeks with a vengeance attempting to rectify the dreaded crack crickets that already had me doing the St. Vida's' Dance across the living room. So much so that on the way back towards my face I didn't notice that through my boxers I had managed to get a finger full of fecal matter and proceeded to try and clear up the nose itch that had me ready to sneeze, spit, and spill my coffee all over the living room.

 

I immediately began to wretch and had to make my way back to the kitchen and I will leave the rest to your imagination!

 

Fishing the Past Out of the Disposal

Nostalgia grows more bittersweet as you get older and the real bitch of it is less and less people remember those things because there are less and less of them every day.  I sometimes think about my childhood and the things that are not there anymore.  There was a TV show on PBS (channel 12) in my neck of the woods called "Things That Aren't There Anymore".  That show featured places in the Philadelphia area that had been lost to a little thing called progress.  Sometimes they would feature TV shows as well and now, if it still existed, and paradox aside, it could include itself.  But this is about things in South Jersey that aren't around any more.  Things like the Ellisburg, the Marlton, and the Berlin circles, all of which are now just memories but I can tell you I drove around all of them many times. In fact, I almost died on the Berlin Circle when I was dating a girl with a certain set of good skills but very bad timing.


 

 

Now the Marlton Circle is the location of the place where I got my first job. Wait, I’m getting a little ahead of myself. My “first” job was working at Big John’s Steaks but I’m not counting that as my first official job. Big John’s was on Route 70 in Cherry Hill I'm not really sure what is there today as I haven't passed by there recently.  As I understood it Big John lost the restaurant to a gambling debt and then he became sick and unfortunately died.  The last time I went there to get a cheese steak in my belly and some nostalgia in my eyes a woman who was a waitress when I worked there was still there. I had not seen her in at least twenty-five years but surprisingly enough, she remembered me. I guess I just have one of those faces. When I worked at Big John’s I was paid under the table and was 12 years old when I first started so I wasn’t on the books. That’s the reason I don’t count that as my first job. My first night working there was Christmas Eve -1980, and there I would work until the spring of 1985 when I would begin working at the Marlton Rustler. The building at the top of the picture on the right hand side is the Rustler I worked at. The picture was taken in 1974. At Rustler, not only did I collect my first ever “official” (as far as the IRS was concerned) paycheck, but I also met my first and long standing to this day best friend that I would ever have.

I grew up in a part of southern New Jersey back in the 70’s that at the time was a very rural area. Construction has changed that so much that I guess it would be considered more of a suburban area now. I grew up on a farm where we raised mostly “Joisey” tomatoes and sweet corn. We also had pigs and chickens and I worked my butt off in the “garden” which is what we called the fields where we grew our crops. For most of my childhood a great deal of time from March until October of every year was spent working and learning how to plow, cultivate, rake, hoe, seed, fertilize, and so many other things that are required to know in order to grow tomatoes, peas, beans, corn, et al.

 

 

On warm summer days when my aunt and uncle decided it was too hot to work in the fields, we would get our bicycles out of the garage and we would head up to the ice cream stand that was about a mile down route 73 towards Berlin. If I was really lucky, not only would we get ice cream but my aunt would spring for us to also play some miniature golf on the course that was connected to the ice cream stand. The ice cream stand and the miniature golf course are both just memories now. A small Mom and Pop garden center replaced it where you could get flowers for Easter and other holidays as well as buy your Christmas tree there. They would even flock one for you if you wanted that fake snow crap on it. The original Mom and Pop that ran it eventually left it to their son, they were old even when I wasn’t, and now even that is gone.

 

 

The Marlton Circle is where a long time ago, a girl named Leslie, who was my boss at Rustler drove around it going the WRONG way! Changed now are the buildings. Today, no longer is Olga’s Diner next to Fayva Shoes. Next to Fayva was Gino’s and then there was the Rustler. Right next to Rustler was Commerce Bank which is the first bank that I had an account with in my adult life. I had a savings account and Christmas Club that my grandmother had set up for me when I was younger at a Horizon bank which was later renamed Farmers and Mechanics and is now a Beneficial bank in Berlin, but Commerce is where I got my first bank account for myself. A woman that we all called “Pointy Tits” worked there. I guess you can figure out why we called her that, I think we worked with her son at Rustler, but I don‘t remember for sure. I do know she used to come in for lunch at Rustler a lot. Eventually, Fayva gave way to Colored Tile and Gino’s was replaced by Pizza Hut. All of those are gone and Barnes & Noble stands there now.

 

Long before I became a mall rat in my high school years, I used to go to the Echelon Mall with my grandmother and aunt. Occasionally after shopping we would stop off at the Cow Tail Bar which was a small restaurant that was attached to a dairy farm. The dairy farm is still there, as far as I can tell, but the restaurant is long gone. In it’s place is a Wawa which has one of the most frustrating parking lots I have ever had the displeasure of parking in. At every table at the Cow Tail Bar when you sat down was a small box of pretzels on the table for you to either enjoy right away or to save and have them with your ice cream. There was a box for everyone. The ice cream was the reason everyone came to the Cow Tail Bar. As it was attached to a dairy farm, the ice cream was therefore made on site and it was always so cold and so hard. It even had small pieces of ice still stuck right in the ice cream. It was some of the best ice cream around then and still to this day most of the ice cream I eat pales in comparison. I remember my regular treat was called The Clown. It consisted of two dips of chocolate ice cream (I had my choice on the flavor but they didn’t have a thousand flavors to choose from back then so it was an easy choice) some whip cream, the obligatory cherry, and a sugar cone stuck on top to make it look like a pointy clown hat. If I was feeling extra adventurous I would ask for some powdered malt topping as well. Not only is the Cow Tail Bar gone, but half of the Echelon Mall is as well!  I don't think it's even called the mall anymore, it's something like Voorhees Town Center or some such thing like that.

 

 

During the summers I got to spend weekdays with my grandmother while my aunt and uncle were at work. One of our favorite places to go was to Grants in Clementon. Grants was a bargain store not unlike the Wal-Marts and Targets of today. We would go shopping and we would stop off at the Grants Luncheonette which was a small restaurant inside of the store. I remember having breakfast with Santa there at Christmas time and we would have a stack of pancakes with the Easter Bunny in the spring. My favorite lunch was the grilled cheese sandwich with fries and a Coke. My grandmother was a big fan of the chicken (or maybe it was turkey) club sandwich. Speaking of food and places you can go to get something to eat inside of a store, I remember getting a box of Super Pretzels (you could get like five for two bucks back then) and a blue raspberry Icee at the K-Mart snack bar. That was one of the best Saturday snacks a kid could have after watching cartoons and wrestling all morning and Dr. Shock all afternoon! I do remember the K-Mart having a small restaurant, however I don’t remember ever having actually gotten anything to eat there myself. Doesn’t matter anyway, for you see, you can’t get anything to eat inside of a K-Mart anymore.  I'm not sure where you would have to go to get to a K-Mart these days. Grants was eventually bought by Woolworths and Wilcos and although they left the store almost the same way it was when it was Grants, the food didn’t seem the same. I don’t remember the name of the lady that my grandmother and I always thought of as our “usual” waitress but she didn’t make the change from Grants to Woolworths either. Below is an actual picture of the Grants in Clementon that we shopped at circa 1976.



 

 

 

Another spot that my family and I would frequent when I was a wee lad was the Berlin Farmers Market. Sister to the Pennsauken Mart, it is still open for business, unlike the Pennsauken Mart. It was a Sunday outing for all of us when we would pile into my uncles pick up truck and my aunts green Maverick, (the truck was in case we got anything too big to cart home in the car) and “walk out back of the sale”. There was the outdoor flea market (like one big yard sale) that we would check out first and then we made our way inside. The barber shop in the market was where I got most of my haircuts during my childhood. I remember vividly how my uncle and grandmother complained when the price of a haircut went up from $4.50 to $5.00. The fifty cent difference was, of course, taken out of the barbers' tip, because "five dollars for a haircut was a rip off", and they both felt very strongly about this. I think my uncle would eventually pay double for a hair cut, and yes, he went “to the sale” for them up until he died in 2013. Ya know, old habits and all.

 

Some other things that are gone are Richmond’s Ice Cream Parlor, Nichol's Department Store, Crazy Eddie’s, J.M. Fields, Two Guys, Jefferson Ward, Bradlees, and the $.99 movie theater that was next to the Echelon Mall. While I’m talking about movie theaters, I want to talk about the Atco Drive-In for a minute. It was in every way the classic drive-in that you have seen in movies. Of course in order for you to have seen one of them in a movie, the movie would have had to take place prior to the 1990’s for the most part because most of the drive-ins were gone by then. Atco was a two screen drive-in so you would have your back facing the opposite screen when you parked to watch whatever movie you came to see. My uncle and his girlfriend (whoever she was at the time) would take us to see The Apple Dumpling Gang, or whatever other kiddies’ movie was showing that week. That alone was a pretty cool experience seeing Don Knotts on that huge screen, but it was always the other screen I was interested in. On the screen behind me they were usually playing the scary pictures. Of course they were also usually rated "R" and there was noting like watching Bambi trying to stand up on his shaky legs for the first time and being able to turn around and seeing some naked girls boobs get splashed with blood in Satan’s Cheerleaders which was playing right behind me. Good times!

I don’t play with Shrinky Dinks anymore, but it’s good to know they still make them if I really wanted to. I don’t raise Sea Monkeys anymore either but it’s good to know I could if I ever got the urge to. I do still read comics and watch wrestling on TV (there's some version of it on TV just about every weeknight now instead of Saturday mornings) like I did when I was ten years old. I don’t play with Hot Wheels nor do I collect Matchbox cars but I could if I wanted to because they still make them. Not everything from my childhood still exists.  Everyone is in the same boat and probably miss something they wish was still around.  But not everything is.  It can't but we don't know that at the time and no matter how much we are told that it is all going to change as we grow up, you don't appreciate it until it's too late. I can’t go to Grants to get a Grilled Cheese sandwich anymore and who knows, it might not be as good of a grilled cheese sandwich as I remember. I did learn how to make a pretty mean grilled cheese myself in my adult years. I haven’t been able to get a grilled cheese at Grants for over forty years, but it would be nice to. Just one more time. And it would be nice if I got to take my grandmother with me. My treat this time.

Gobble Gobble 'Til You Wobble

Back when we were young-ens and growing up in Smackover Arkansas, Cerpts and I celebrated our first Thanksgiving together as friends. The two girls were his cousins from England and they had no idea what this holiday was about. They are laughing because they just heard me say; "I can almost fit my entire fist in this bird." One cousin turned to the other and said laughing, "He must be talking about you.". Now Cerpts and I are laughing because we were wondering if male turkeys were also called "cocks". Ahh memories. Happy Thanksgiving Blogger family!!

The Haunted Wardrobe

Several weeks ago I bought a wardrobe from an antique store that was having a wicked deal on dead people's things. Now, typically I don't meddle much in the affairs of the recently departed nor the affairs of the previously departed for that matter. However, men do tedious and burdensome tasks all to be in the presence of a woman.

Which brings us to the antique store.

As the door creaks open, I'm immediately engulfed in that familiar smell; old. Its like having five hundred grandma's in one room, all gasping their final breaths at once. For those of you that have lost your grandma, I'm sorry. Get over it, I'm trying to paint a picture here.

We browse through the isles of what I have to admit is finely constructed furniture. Typically when I hear "They don't make 'em like that anymore..." I usually think to myself "There's a reason for that you old ass fucking country bumpkin." This however, does not apply to bitchin' old cars and apparently furniture. The problem is restoring the ancient ones. After wading through the furniture graveyard for about a half an hour, she had collected a handsome pile of crap that will be stored for future decoration. Thank fucking Jesums, I think, and was about to head out when I though I heard something like a child crying coming from around one of the larger islands of debris. I turned the corner and there was the most majestic mahogany wardrobe I had ever seen. It had hand carved lion heads on the doors, and intricate carvings on the trim.  I was in awe of its glory and I think it made me pee a little.

I bought the wardrobe immediately and paid some punks to load it into their truck and deliver it to chateau Cheeks. We fought the motherfucker all the way into my living room, where it came to sit in its final resting place... or so I thought. I cleaned the big bastard up and put a shine on it that could blind a douche at a hundred paces. A few days went by and I finally had my wardrobe filled with my ever growing collection of clothes I will never get around to wearing. I thought, man this is tits. No more trying to repair the hanger bars and shelving that continually collapses under the weight of my huge fat guy clothes.

Something disturbed me though, my clothes started to have a strange odor; something I couldn't quite place yet. I decided to remove everything and wash repeatedly. I put an application on the inside of the wardrobe that was supposed to kill any mold or mildew from moisture and dry up the wood. This turned out to be a bad idea because of the toxicity of the fumes. I had to stay out of the living room for a few days.

One night I fell asleep on the couch ans I was awoken to the sound of a child screaming and crying.  First I wondered where the fuck I was, then wondered who's brat that was.  As I became oriented I wondered if I had just imagined it.  As I sat there pondering the situations creepiness, I heard some more crying.  I went into the bedroom and looked around. I looked in the spare room and checked outside. What the fuck some kids were doing in my house at 3AM was beyond me, but when you hear strange shit at night, you check the scene... preferably armed. I found nothing, and eventually went back to sleep.  I'm a light sleeper, and when I'm expecting someone or something, I tend to sleep a lot lighter. Two hours later I heard the sobbing again. I turned on all the lights and waited until dawn.

Well, I'm no jackass horror movie victim, so first thing in the morning I had some neighbors help me drag the mahogany nightmare back outside.  I thanked them and said nothing more.  I went into the back yard to the tool shed and grabbed the long-handled axe. My neighbors were all like "What the hell?" as I splintered the wardrobe into debris, all while swearing, sometimes in English. That must have been a site. After about fifteen minutes, a crowd had gathered, and at one point I thought the sheriff's department may have been alerted to my actions.

Anyways, I'm selling souvenir haunted wardrobe chunks for five bucks each. My neighbors bought most of it that fine Sunday morning, but I still have lots of it left. It smells like rotten flesh, yeah I figured out that was what the smell was, weird huh, and if you hold it to your ear, you can hear children crying.

Apparently, after some researching, I found out the wardrobe dated back to sometime around the Civil War. It was supposedly from Virginia. There have been some stories of people who lived in Virginia capturing escaping slaves and locking the children in wardrobes a lot like the one I had. Torturing them, eventually starving them to death in some cases. Some of the children were left there, even months after they had died.

 Next time I'm going to IKEA the hell with that shit.  

Ode To Chlamydia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pocahontas once said, and I quote; "The only thing I still have from John Smith is Chlamydia."!  That's right folks, the "round of applause" is the topic of the day.  The silent suffering, as it is sometimes called,  because an individual may suffer from this disease for a long time before realizing they even have it.  Not only that, it is also the most frequent reported STD in the US.  A nice festering case of "Clammy Crotch" is easier to get in the states than a picture of a Harry Styles love child!  An estimated 2.8 million cases are reported each year.  The major cause of the wide spread disease is that the first symptoms usually occur anywhere from 1 to 3 weeks after contracting the disease, if they occur at all.  The first most common symptom is a burning sensation when you go widdle.  Usually this symptom is overlooked as a minor urinary tract infection and treated with water and cranberry juice.  Nice if you want to mix in some alcohol and paint the town with some poon plague, but not effective in treating the disease that is really causing your problem though.  Now comes the fun part.  Do not read on if you get grossed out easily, you have been warned!  I'll wait................. 

 

OK, you've made your decision so here we go.  The fun part starts when the disease spreads and causes that fun stuff we like to call discharge, or seepage.  Usually this is a sign the disease has spread to the cervix, as well as the fallopian tubes and (gasp!!) possibly as far as the rectum!  Keep in mind this is not exclusive to females, although they do have the highest reported cases, 'cause that's just how much we love 'em.  So guys, watch where you drill.  Since this can be spread orally, vaginally, or anally, the disease does not care weather you are hetero or not.  YAY!  Fun for everyone!  In some rare cases it has also been found in the mouth and throat areas of infected partners.  Now here are some of the long term problems this little bug likes to cause: First and foremost, sterility, usually in the female patients.  Some men have become sterile from it as well but only after ignoring the burning sensation while urinating, the red swollen tip, the abdominal pain, and the swollen testes.  Honestly though, if your ignoring all that, you probably shouldn't be making offspring anyway!  It can also cause fatal ectopic pregnancies, as well as arthritis, and skin lesions.  Wait, why the hell we gotta mention arthritis?  I mean if you have any of the other symptoms you really worrying about a few achy joints?  

 

Anyway, where were we?  The squat rot also makes females five times more susceptible to the HIV virus. Who knew? Ever see a baby born with pink eye or pneumonia? Probably cause mom had a case of the bear-cat slop. That's what happens to infants when they come down the birth canal of an infected woman. What was that quote about the sins of the father?  Guess you can add sins of the mother to it as well.  The number one way of getting the disease is by being sexually active with more than one partner.  78% of all reported cases worldwide belong to women and girls 25 years old and younger.  Most cases when cured are often relapsed because they are cured but their partner (or partners) are not.  Every time a new strain of the disease is contracted by the same person the chances of long term complications triple.  With that we close the book on this entry.  Now get out there and stake your claim in those happy humping grounds!

 

  

An Open Letter:

 

Dear Britney,
      I hope this letter finds you doing well. As for myself, I'm a little under the weather. At first, I thought it was herpes, but turns out it was just heat rash. I know you may be thinking why I'd write to you on such a public platform, but after 62 unanswered letters asking for various favors, I figured I'd show how much I lust for you, here, in front of the 3 or 4 people who actually read this blog.  I know that your life, as of late, may be a little hard to deal with.  The whole court thing with your father after being crazy for so long, and that's not even mentioning your marriages.  You've gone from being on top of the world to the bottom rung of Scumville.  Well, maybe the middle rung, but whose really keeping track?  I could very easily blame K-fed for your spiral into the trailer park, but I'm not like that.  I actually think all your husbands are geniuses. Well, not Albert Einstein kinda genius, but a genius, nonetheless.  How can I find fault with a guy who did exactly what I would have done, well, except for the whole impregnating you with my demon seed thing?

 
 

Listen, my little Possum Poon, I don't think it's too late for you to realize that I'm the man that needs to be in your life.  Who cares that I despise kids, that's what our nannys would be for they can watch those little bastards while you and I bask in our lust for one another,  Now, I know what you're saying, something along the lines of "I'm Britney Spears, I can get any man I want." well Britney, that might have been true a while back when you were hot Britney, but you must find someone that can truly appreciate a dirty ho-bag.  Coincidentally, I happen to be that person.  Let me put it to you this way, I can appreciate your fat thighs and stretched marked body. Me!   I'm the one you've been looking for. You see love, had you been smart enough to fall for me, we wouldn't be in this situation, because I would have never desecrated your temple by with my accursed baby batter.  Sure, I would have been happy to deposit some anywhere else you desired, but I would have never impregnated you.  Alas, there is no turning back the hands of time now, and there is nothing we can do but I can promise that I would not do that in the future.  

 

 

Again, let me reiterate, that means to "state again", just thought I'd tell you that, I don't want your head exploding 'cause your little urinal cake brain g0t a terminal case of overload. Now that should show you how much I care about you, darling!  I'm not trying to say anything bad about your current love life.  Although I did think of something a little while ago while I was at the strip club, maybe he helped you through these rough years this to get you into some sort of commitment. As a way of keeping you devoted to him and to continue to hand over the platinum Visa at his every whim. Seriously hun, why not send one of them little black cards my way.  I'm one helluva guy when you get to know me. I even promise to pick you up something nice to wear at night.  All I am saying is if you were to drop that zero you would have much more money for yourself. I don't need that much, a little for some booze and weed, a few dollars for the ladies down at the Slap and Tickle Lounge and I'm golden.  In return I can give you thirty-two seconds of pure, exotic, monkey passion at your request.

 

 

Remember sugar, I dig fatties!  Mostly because I, too, am one of them and like attracts like and all that scientifical biorhythm nonsense.  I know what your going through.  I know you secretly dream what it would be like to be that girl in the Johnny Depp trial poopin' in a bed.  All thin and sexy.  Or even Lyndsey Lohan, who in her own right is kinda hot, at least crazy hot.  And that's all in spite of the occasional bouts with dehydration (close quo-ta-tion marks, but I think you know what I'm saying). I like you just the way you are, I'm wouldn't try to make you loose what is left of your self-esteem.  I wouldn't be out spending your hard earned money like some people we know while you're locked in your bedroom eating girl scout cookies dipped in butter and smoking your life away like a chimney.  I hope you understand where I am coming from. What I think is, it's time to give him his pre-nup money and bring in someone who knows how to treat a river pig like yourself.  

 

 

C'mon peaches, think about it, I come from a place and time where we know how to grab a set of sweaty love handles in the heat of passion. How to squeeze 'em just enough to make you dance around like a freshly de-capped chicken. You cant learn these talents.  Either you are born with them or, well, quite frankly are a know nothing looser like your bodyguard turned hubby. We all know he wasn't born to ride the wave in.  You're dirty, and I can't get enough of it.  I remember when I saw that picture of you walking out of a public restroom bare foot;  I knew then and there I had to have you!  You girl, that's who I'm talking about.  So what if you look like a nightmare without makeup, I'm not trying to be with you for your looks, I'm trying to be with you for your cash. Wait sweetness, I didn't mean your cash; I meant your calves, those fat, luscious, hog calves that need to be slapping against my back.  I know you must feel a bit confused while pondering all of this, but rest assured, I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do.  Not even going ass to mouth, unless you wanted to.  Now that definitely show how much I care about you. I mean if that doesn't, what the hell will? 

 

 

Now you might feel that little pang of guilt about not wanting to separate your children from their father, and I wouldn't want you too.  I know, let him keep 'em.  There's an idea.  That way it gives us more time to be together to do all the wild things we want to do while we grow deeper and deeper in love as well as grow our waist sizes.  It would be great babe, you know it would and I'm willing to forget about all of your shenanigans.  That little 24 hour Vegas marriage thing?  Never happened as far as I'm concerned.  Now that I think about it, that's what that anullingment thing did already so we're all good there too.  I don't need the old, hot Britney, I'm completely satisfied with the bat shit crazy tubby one who walks around with that pudgy belly.  Whaddayasay, baby cakes?  You, me, a bottle of Maddog, a blunt, and some Lynyrd Skynard, or however you spell it, they should have come up with a name easier to spell if they wanted to be more popular, right?  Anyway, think about it, you know where to find me girl.

        XOXOXOXO

 

OK, I'll try to make this blog 365 "ish"

A woman suffered severe burning to her anus after being struck by lightning which hit her in the mouth and passed right through her body.  Natasha Timarovic, 27, of Zandar Croatia, was brushing her teeth at home when lightning struck the building. She said: "I had just put my mouth under the tap to rinse away the toothpaste when the lightning must have struck the building. I don't remember much after that, but I was later told that the lightning had traveled down the water pipe and struck me on the mouth, passing through my body. It was incredibly painful, I felt it pass through my torso and then I don't remember much at all." Doctors at the city hospital where she was treated for burns to the mouth and rear said: "The accident is bizarre but not impossible. She was wearing rubber bathroom shoes at the time and so instead of grounding through her feet it appears the electricity shot out of her backside," a medic told a local television news channel. "It appears to have grounded through the damp shower curtain that she was touching as she bent over to put her mouth under the tap. If she had not been wearing the shoes she would probably have been killed by the blast."

 

Editor commentary: Rectum?  Nearly killed her!  

 

You'll be sorry you ever mentioned it being quiet in here Cerpts! 

That a Wrap for 2022

 

As the light from all the Jack O Lanterns flicker and fade we close the book on another Countdown To Halloween.  Back from whence we came as we pull damp earth back over our now quiet coffins.  We will wait until such a time when we shall be called upon once more.  Until then may we all eat, drink, and be scary.    

Frankenhooker (1990)

 

Here we have a dark comedy from 1990 titled Frankenhooker.  This combines horror, comedy, and if you ask some people, soft core porn.  While I didn't notice the porn part; there's less sex and nudity here than any of the Porky's movies I've seen and I don't recall any of those being called soft core porn.  Poh-ta-to  Po-tah-to.  Mmmm waffle fries.  Where was I?  Frankenhooker is directed by Frank Henenlotter who has directed the Basket Case horror comedy trilogy.  So he knows how to do horror comedy right.  The film centers on Jeffrey Franken, a medical student who is about to get married to the woman of his dreams, Elizabeth who is played by Penthouse Pet of the month as well as year, Patty Mullen.

The couples happiness is soon cut short (you'll know how funny that is in a second) when Elizabeth is killed by an out of control lawn mower.  See, told you.  Devastated, Jeffrey drops out of medical school and devises a plan to help him bring back his wife to be.  He will use the body parts he collects from hookers to Humpty Dumpty her back together again.  In order to do that he only wants to use the best parts money can buy.  Well, the parts aren't for sale but the girls are.  Also starring as Jeffrey's mother is Louise Lasser; Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman herself.  He plans on drugging the girls with his new street drug; think "Super Crack" but it turns out the drug causes anyone who smokes it to explode.  I hate when that happens!  Soon it's raining body parts, literally.  While the film is hampered by some low cost special effects and some bad acting, I mean they're porn stars folks.

What makes the movie is the story and the direction.  This one had me, ahem, in stitches!  It's a funny film and it's certainly one I would call better than the sum of it's parts.  The film doesn't have any right to be this good considering it's parodying a horror classic but it's different enough that it doesn't feel like it's recycled, rehashed, or ripped off.  Somehow Henenlotter is able to piece together a classic 90's horror comedy.  Piece together!!  Damn, I am on fire.  And while I don't know if this is this years final post for the Countdown to Halloween but if it is it's a great way to end it!  I'm gonna happily give this one four plates of severed breasts out of five.  I'm not kidding!  "Hey Jersey boy, wanna date?"         

 

Lost Creek (2016)

 

Going to try and keep the posts coming in between Trick or Treaters right up until the stroke of midnight.  Up next is Lost Creek from 2016.  What I didn't know before I watched this: this is a low budget indy film that is loaded with unknowns and is a kids film.  For kids featuring a bunch of kids.  Unfortunately none of them know how to act a lick.  I expect that from most child actors but I mean even the adults stink out loud.  What it does have is a decent enough story that should hold a ten year old's attention while not frightening them too much.  This is perfect for that kid who is tired of the animated Halloween films and wants to dip their feet into the live action "scary movie" world. 

 

The film centers around a boy, Peter, who has just moved into town with his mother.  Shortly after moving in he meets a little girl named Maggie.  The two meet down near a small stream or a creek, if you will.  During the course of the movie Maggie tells Peter that on the other side of the creek, where she never goes, is a monster.  Peter thinks that maybe the monster is coming to take all the adults because his neighbors are seeming to disappear into thin air.  Along with his other friend Bill (don't call him William) who he knew before he moved into town the three decide to spend Halloween trying to solve the mystery behind the missing adults. 

 

Along the way they encounter monsters, ghosts, demons, to be honest I'm not sure exactly what the threat is but it registers on the creepy level thanks to some very good music from composer Evan Chapman.  The movie sounds very eerie.  It also looks very Halloweenie-like.  There's also a couple really neat looking Halloween costumes.  Like I said the acting is terrible except for Maggie, she's passable but barely.  The story is OK even if it is slow in starting but it picks up about a third of the way in.  It has a nice ending and it has a feel good Stand By Me sort of feeling to it.  So if you want a good film for kids or if you want a Halloween film that's not that scary and no gore, you could do worse.  Three pumpkin cupcakes out of five.     
 

 

The Swarm (1978)

 Earlier this month I reviewed The Bees and mentioned The Swarm and made a point of it to dig out the DVD and watch it in time to put it here on The Countdown to Halloween.  In the mid 1970's a killer bee scare gripped the U.S. as killer bees had made their way across the Atlantic ocean into Central American and by the late 70's they had made it all the way to Mexico.  In this Irwin Allen film it hypothesizes as to what would happen when they made their way into the states.  It wasn't a question of if but of when because according to scientists they were on our doorstep and they were more lethal than any bee we had seen before.  Also something that was gaining strength was Hollywood's obsession with making disaster films like The Poseidon Adventure, The Towering Inferno, Earthquake, and The Hindenburg just to name a few but believe me there were many more.      

 

 

 

 

 

Two of the films I've mentioned (The Poseidon Adventure and The Towering Inferno) were produced by Irwin Allen who also directed and produced The Swarm.  Hindsight being 50/50 I'd say perhaps he should have stuck with just producing disaster films instead of directing because unlike the other two which were good (Inferno) and really good (Poseidon) The Swarm is a disaster film of another type.  Now I mean that in the kindest of ways giving the list of names involved here no need to be unnecessarily mean.  In fact there are so many actors in this production that when I was watching I kept yelling at the TV: "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?  YOU'RE BETTER THAN THIS!".  I'll give you a list of the people in this, legendary names like Michael Caine, Katherine Ross, Richard Widmark, Olivia de Havilland, and Henry Fonda.  I mean for frig sake (see Cerpts, I can work clean when I want to!) just about everybody in this film is failed by it's direction, writing, and editing.  OK, maybe the editing isn't their fault, in fact it might not even be Allen's fault.  At least he trimmed it down to less than two hours of torture.  I went and found the version of the film that is closer to three hours long than it is to two.  Unfortunately. 

 

 

 

I wish I could have talked to some of these legends before they signed the contract to be in this film.  "Olivia, Henry, Michael, Richard, Patty Duke, you're even in this?  My god, who else?  Richard Chamberlain?  You're all too good for this!!  Ben Johnson, Slim Pickens, Fred MacMurray, Well OK, you three might not be better than this. But still!"  You get the idea.  For many it was a quick payday for just a few scenes worth of work I guess.  The Swarm fluctuated between pissing me off because it was so stupid as characters made one bad decision after another and hilariously bad as even these Hollywood hall of famers had a tough time making it believable.  I honestly think Fonda was reading most of his lines off of cue cards that were just off camera as some of his lines were in the form of questions as if asking "Is that how you want me to say that?" after his dialog called for him to be scientific beyond his understanding.  It gets wordy in parts and even Michael Caine's "I know what I'm doing, now everybody just do what I say and we might make it through this alive.", attitude isn't fully believable.  There's a part where Katherine Ross tries to take the blood pressure of someone who doesn't even have a pulse.  What the absolute F?  Kids could be reading this so forgive me if I sound like an idiot but movies that are this bad but should have been better piss me off but I still need to edit myself sometimes.  Therefore, I have no choice but to give this one just two squeaky wheelchairs out of five and declare The Bees as the preferred and recommended viewing of the two bee movies from 1978.  Now excuse me I have to go get my costume of.  Happy Haunting from The Man Hole.    

FleshEater (1988)

 

 

Twenty years after George Romero made history with the release of Night of the Living Dead FleshEater was released.  While not being a direct sequel it certainly has it's shambling feet firmly placed in the Romero zombie universe.  FleshEaster stars S. William Hinzman as the titular character but if you remember Night, he is the first zombie we are introduced to in the cemetery.  The famous line "They're coming to get you Barbara.", is in direct reference to Hinzman as he approaches Johnny and Barbara.  Thus beginning the new form of zombie before they were even called zombies.  Hinzman is the one responsible for FleshEater as he stars, writes, directs, produces, and hell, yeah let's add in edits the film.  Most of the rest of the cast is one and done when it comes to acting in films.  The few exceptions being Rik Billock (Dawn of the Dead, The Dark Half, and Monkey Shines) as Farmer Ned and Michael Gornick (Dawn of the Dead and Martin) as Mad Mike the DJ we hear talking. 

 

Also featured as a little girl dressed like an angel for Halloween (the film takes place on Halloween) is Hizman's granddaughter Heidi who has appeared in a few other films with her grandfather including The Majorettes and Children of the Living Dead.  This one definitely has a small Pennsylvania town feel to it even twenty years after the original.  Not only is Hinzman playing a zombie once again here but it is the same zombie or at least I think it is the same zombie.  He has been entombed in a grave and then sealed with a warning to not open the grave or dare unleashing hell on earth.  There is some sort of an attempt to connect a satanic cult with the zombies but I'm not sure that's ever fully explained or sussed out.  Of course the grave is opened and in no time he wakes up and goes on a killing spree.  Not only killing but also turning a bunch of people into zombies as well.  In the end what we have is just another less than average gore fest (it is pretty bloody and chunky as well) with some really bad actors.  There's a reason most of them were one and done.      

 

 The story follows along on the same premise as the original with the one exception that the ghouls are called zombies this time.  The makeup and special effects are OK with a few seconds of some less than impressive shots of heads exploding thanks to well aimed shot gun blasts.  At one point in the film the local authorities burn down a barn where some of the dead are expected to be holed up causing one film reviewer to describe the movie as a huge waste of a good barn.  Ouch!  Not much of an improvement for me over the original and seeing as how this one isn't as important historically I don't really feel much of a difference for it.  I gave the original Night of the Living Dead two and a half out of five and I will give this the same.  Two and a half purple shotgun shells out of five.  Since I added a gif above, which I think is the first time I have placed a gif on the old blog, there's an extra picture for this post.  Perhaps I have to rethink my score as this is a historic post of The Man Hole with the first gif... nah we're good.  Enjoy the extra pic.    

 

 

 This isn't the only film I have planned for today which is a good thing because I would hate to end the month on a down note.  More to come.  Happy Halloween!!

 

Alien 3 (1992)

 Thirty years ago I went to the movie theater with my bestest buddy Cerpts from The Land of Cerpts and Honey to see Aliens 3 along with my significant other at the time (not the Horror Honey I am sorry to report) and Cerpts' flavor of the month.  At the time I hadn't seen the second part of the trilogy but what can you do when the other three outvote you.  So off to see Alien 3 we went.  The film was directed by David Fincher (Fight Club, Seven, and Gone Girl), with this being his feature film debut.  Sigourney Weaver once again plays Ellen Ripley a warrant officer originally onboard the Nostromos.  

After the events of the second film, Ripley is in an escape pod which crash lands onto a penal colony.  After being rescued, Ripley awakens to discover she was the only survivor on the pod.  The only human survivor anyway.  Also starring is Charles S. Dutton (A Time To Kill and Secret Window) as Leonard an inmate and spiritual leader of the colony.  Charles Dance (Game of Thrones and Last Action Hero) as Clemens an inmate who also serves as the prison doctor.  Paul McGann (Doctor Who and Withnail and I) plays Walter Golic a mass murderer and the most violent inmate in the colony, and Lance Henricksen (The Terminator and The Quick and the Dead) as Bishop, an android who was on the escape pod with Ripley.  Bishop was also in Aliens, the second film of the series.  

Due to an impending writers strike the original script was rushed and then quickly canned.  Several more attempts were made to write a script for the third film and in the end the finished product turned out to be a sort of Frankenscript as it contained several different script ideas and plot points taken from several of the previous versions.  In fact filming began without a finished script in place.  Although the highest grossing film of the first three it is not the best of them.  For a few years I doubted Fincher's ability as a film director and hoped he would remain directing music videos which he did prior to this.  After seeing Seven and Fight Club I realized it wasn't Fincher's fault.  It's difficult to put perfume on a pig!  The aliens are always cool, and Weaver is great, as usual, as Ripley.  Everyone else does a good job as well here but it is severely handicapped by a crap script and filled with too many long chase scenes.  The filming is great, in fact Roger Ebert once called this "...the best looking bad movie" he has seen in a long time.  I can only give this three facehuggers out of five and can report that this is the weakest of the first three films.            

  

Halloween Ends (2022)

 

 

I wasn't sure if I even wanted to see this one let alone write a blog post about it.  See last years countdown for my feelings about Halloween Kills.  Or my Halloween 3 post from a couple of days ago for that matter!  But I did watch it and while some of the reviews are right, some of them are a little too harsh I feel.  Danny McBride (who I love, or at least his acting) and David Gordon Green (who after this trilogy better not screw up the reboot of The Exorcist as badly but I have little hope there) are once again the co-writers with Green also directing again.  Jamie Lee Curtis is back as Michael Myers (James Jude Courtney) famous "Final Girl" Laurie Strode.  Also back is Andi Matichak as Laurie's granddaughter Allyson and Will Patton as Frank Hawkins.  Warning: Spoilers Ahead!  The film concerns a young man Corey Cunningham (any relation to Arty from Christine?) who after beating a manslaughter charge is befriended by Allyson when he is treated in the ER for wounds he sustained from a run in with the town bullies.  Also back is Real Housewife Kyle Richards as Lindsey Wallace.  John Carpenter is still attached to this one as producer and he also composes the music with his son Cody

 

 

After Corey meets Allyson (she's an ER nurse) at the hospital, the two hit it off and Laurie even helps him get some revenge on the bullies that put him in the ER in the first place.  Laurie, fixated on having a normal life, is writing her memoir and actually celebrating Halloween this year.  After another attack by the bullies Corey is found by Michael Myers himself and dragged into the sewers where Michael has been hiding and living.  But does Michael kill Corey?  No, Michael lets him go!  Laurie starts to feel differently about Corey and attempts to warn him away from Allyson.  Corey tells her that if he can't have her no one will.  Creepy dude ain't he?  On Halloween, Corey returns to the sewers, confronts Michael, and takes his infamous mask for himself.  Corey goes on a rampage offing everybody who has done him wrong as well as his stepfather and mother!  I won't go on but all of this leads to Laurie having to face off with not one but two maniacal killers in a William Shatner mask.

 

 

  

 With this being the last film in the Blumhouse run we expected some sort of closure.  Did we get it?  Yes we did, but as John Carpenter hinted if there is money still to be made with this franchise it will continue in some form or another.  The property rights to the franchise reverts back to Malek Akkad who is the son of Moustapha Akkad, one of the original produced of the very first Halloween.  But as far as Halloween Ends is concerned it is better than Kills for me but not as good as the first film in the trilogy.  Also, as a comparison, I would like to say I enjoyed Rob Zombies two remakes better than I liked this trilogy.  But that's just me.  Either way, I suggest sticking to the originals.  At least we got scenes featuring Laurie and Michael facing off this time unlike Kills.  I also wanted to comment on the violence in this one.  I don't recall, and neither did any of the folks I watched this one with (that would include the Horror Honey and her two kids who were over for a visit) recall Halloween being THIS violent.  Perhaps I blocked it out from the first two and while it wasn't over the top (I've seen way worse) it seems like a step up in intensity of the violence.  Right before the final outcome there are some nice nods to the original as we get a montage of Laurie and Michael from nearly thirty five years ago.  Not as bad as Kills but still lacking.  We now wait and see if this franchise will improve from here (it can't get worse can it?) or just really end.  I'll toss this one into two and a half industrial shredders out of five.