Archive for the 'horror' Category

I nerd out about horror movies

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on April 10, 2008 @ 9:53 am
in Mrs. ACW, awesome, horror, i am so fucking awesome, movies, nerd stuff and people are idiots
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Every year Mrs. ACW rents us up some movies from Netflix, and not just the same old tired pablum that YOU suckers are used to watching (seriously, everything you like is stupid, unless I’m something that you like, and then that one thing is awesome, but it’s not enough to redeem your otherwise terrible taste), but the After Dark Horrorfest.

Now, some people aren’t into horror, so they employ other tactics to select movies that would make other people squirm and to provide themselves an ample amount of self-loathing. Us? We choose horror.

You may have heard me mention previously some of the movies we own: Barn of the Blood Llama (bad), Cannibal! The Musical (hilarious), or Dead Alive (awesome movie from when Peter Jackson was a horror director). But don’t get me wrong. I love some of these movies, but they are TERRIBLE. Just completely unwatchable. Blitheringly, mind-meltingly, horrid.

So I hope you understand when I say the movies for the After Dark Horrorfest are even worse.

The 2006 selections featured some real stinkers*, so unwatchable that Mrs. ACW and I chose to watch some of the movies in fast-forward rather than spend the time to see it at regular speed.

So far the 2007 Horrorfest has been about the same. The first movie we watched, Lake Dead, was just kind of stupid, but not quite bad enough that we watched it in fast-forward. They seemed like they were doing a cheap rip-off of Texas Chainsaw Massacre and House of 1000 Corpses. It was the same old, tired, played out theme of sexy 20-somethings going into the country and being killed by a family of inbred yokels for some reason.

The second movie, Tooth and Nail, was actually not too bad, but it could have been saved by not being a blatant mash-up of 28 Days Later and Firefly. Also, Rider Strong AKA Shawn Hunter from Boy Meets World, was in it. Also, all the “good” characters were named after cars, and the “bad” characters named after dogs. Now that I think about it, it was actually really ham-handed and kind of stupid.

Last night we got about 30 minutes into Mulberry Street, and the movie just couldn’t make up it’s mind about whether or not it ever wanted to get started, so we popped the ol’ DVD player into fast-forward. It reached the point where Mrs. ACW was reading Harry Potter and I was watching the screen flick by while narrating, “Okay, now there’s a rat. And the one guy’s upset. I think the rat bit him. Now he’s a rat. Now he’s trying to bite people. Oh, and the girlfriend just got bit. Now the daughter is on a bike. She’s biking home. Nothing’s happening. Nothing’s happening. There’s a rat. Nothing’s happening,” and so on. It finally reached the point where even in fast-forward the movie was still taking way too long to get to the end, so I started looking around to find something else in the living room that might be interesting to look at.

The thing that gets me is, these movies are advertised as “the content of these films are considered too graphic, too disturbing, and too shocking for general audiences,” when actually I think the problem is that the movies are either too stupid or too boring, which is really saying something considering how much money the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie made.

That said, I’ve got a real crap-factory at home right now in the form of SS Hell Camp. I wasn’t even aware of the genre of Naziploitation before I got this movie from Netflix, but apparently it’s just all around horrible. According to Wikipedia, it’s still banned in the UK! I have a bad feeling that once I begin to explore this super-niche sub-genre, I won’t be able to scrub its contents out of my brain. I’ll let you know how it is.

*Dark Ride, Unrest, and Wicked Little Things redeemed only by their special effects, Penny Dreadful being the stand out best, and The Gravedancers and The Hamiltons being unwatchably bad. I wasn’t even really interested in watching them in fast-forward.

BGE Peak Time Rebate Program

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on March 7, 2008 @ 9:33 am
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So Mrs. ACW and I have been selected to participate in an energy-saving experiment with Baltimore Gas and Electric this summer. BGE selected about 1000 homes at random to participate in what they call the “Peak Time Rebate program”, and we were lucky enough to be one of them.

Basically, it works like this: BGE will run the program for 12 days between June 1 and Sept 30. Essentially, they’ll let us know by phone, email, or even text a few days in advance when a “peak day” is coming. (Can you believe that? Text? I’m shocked at their acceptance of modern technology.) Then, when the peak day rolls around all we have to do is reduce our energy usage between 2pm and 7pm.

“Ha ha, sucker,” I can hear you saying now, “They’re just duping you and some other suckers into reducing your energy so that they don’t have to brown-out the state for a few days this summer.”

Yeah, I was skeptical too, but they’re providing incentives out the ass. First of all, just by calling to see if I qualified to participate in the program they gave me $15. Not bad for 5 minutes worth of work.

Next, they’re going to refund me for every kilowatt hour I reduce off my average usage. So if they measure that I normally use 1000 kWh per month and on a peak day I use 5 or 10 kWh less, they’ll pay me about $1.16 for every kWh reduced. That means $5.80 or $11.60 (or more) for doing nothing! Even better, there’s no penalty if I don’t reduce my usage during peak days. At this point my plan is to flip all the breakers on everything except the refrigerator on “peak” days. I don’t care if the cats suffer for my cash.

Once the experiment ends in September, and if I don’t bail out, which I won’t, they’ll pay me another $100 just for participating. This is on top of whatever I earn through reduced usage and the $15 they paid me initially.

Finally, the coolest part of the experiment are the tools they’re giving me to help reduce energy usage. They’re installing a device on my air conditioner/heat pump that will cycle on and off while the air conditioning is on. The air conditioning will stop, but the fan will keep running for a few minutes to blow around the already cold air, then the AC will kick on again, then off again while the fan stays on, etc. So they’ll be saving money FOR me. How can I lose?

The other cool thing that we get is an Orb! When I read about these in Wired a few months ago I thought, “Man, I’ve GOT to get one of those.” It keeps track of any number of things, but in this case, it’ll be our energy usage. So we can see if we’re using more energy than we need to be using and I can yell to Mrs. ACW, “Hey, the orb is red. Stop doing whatever you’re doing! Jerkass.”

I know I’m totally nerding out here, but I’m totally psyched about this, and can’t wait to see how it goes. And there’s really nothing nicer than getting paid a fat wad of cash for having a lower energy bill.

Of nog and necrophilia

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on December 19, 2007 @ 11:08 am
in food, horror, movies, necrophilia, nog, potty humor, sex, suhmuhmuh bitch, the worldwide information super-tubeterwebs and zombies
. 22 Comments

There’s a theory that holds a bit of popularity on these here intertubes, and it’s called the Uncanny Valley. If you’re familiar with this concept, please feel free to skip ahead to the third paragraph. If you’re not, I encourage you to read on, because my point hinges on this concept.

The uncanny valley is an explanation of human reaction to human-like objects, primarily robots. Common sense suggests that as robots begin to look more human, the more receptive we should be to those robots, giving them a more positive response. For example, an industrial car-building robot has a few human traits like dexterity and hinged-joints, so we have only a slightly positive response to it. On the other hand, a fully human-looking robot like the T-101, T-1000, or T-X from the Terminator movies each elicit a very positive response because of their humanness (as long as they aren’t trying to kill you, or turning their hands into swords or guns). So, between those two points we should see a straight line, right? Not exactly. At a certain point the robot begins to look human, but does not look human enough so we reject the robot with a negative response, much the same way we reject zombies, corpses, and fake-looking artificial limbs. Here’s a graphical representation of the uncanny valley, as well as a lot more science talk, if you’re interested in that type of thing. If you’re still having trouble grasping the concept, here’s a real-life example:

Orville Redenbacher was a purveyor of popcorn, and also acted as the face for his company in the commercials, as can be seen in this ad. He died in 1995.

Recently an ad agency decided to resurrect Mr. Redenbacher to help sell more popcorn for the Orville Redenbacher company. The horrendous result can be seen here. Despite the CGI being pretty damn good, almost everyone who has ever seen this commercial has been repulsed by it, which is why the ad was pulled in most markets shortly after it began to air. The CGI Redenbacher, or Deadenbacher as he is referred to on Wikipedia, is located somewhere in the uncanny valley; a zombie-like approximation of a once-living icon, close enough to do the job of selling popcorn, but not close enough for people to keep that popcorn down for very long. This is the also case with powdered nog.

powder nog 002

As you can see from the carton, the Aspen Mulling Company promises nothing more than “Egg Nog Mix” but their illustration suggests they’ve packaged something drinkable; a claim, I can assure you, that surpasses the vilest of lies, crafted by Satan’s lawyers in the deepest pits of flaming torment.

powder nog 005

I’ve included the directions here to illustrate the sheer paucity of verifiable claims. “Let stand two minutes to thicken” into disgusting undrinkable clot. “For a special treat, pour egg nog over fresh fruit.” I agree, just don’t use this eggnog. “Smoothies: Add 3 teaspoons per serving into blender.” and what else? Milk? Eggs? Diarrhea? “Bundt Cake: Add 2 tablespoons to your favorite recipe.” if you want to ruin it and make people hate you forever.

powder nog 009

See those little yellow-orange dots floating in the off-white mixture? Those are the parts of the mix that refused to integrate with the milk even after furious stirring. I could already tell that I was about to submit my innards to some horrible abuse, equivalent to internal punching from tonsils to tailpipe.

powder nog 010

Uggh. The first sip tasted like off-brand sugar-free vanilla pudding got knocked up by soy-nog and their baby was this screaming, head-spinning, chunk-spewing, demon-infested horror. That orange line is one of the first accumulations of unmixable nog powder that would eventually ring my glass.

powder nog 012

See that? It’s an empty nog glass; unmixable and probably undigestable nog powder clings to the bottom. For you people I drank this. For you. So you don’t wander into the store and think, “Hey maybe I should put some powder into some milk instead of putting powder up my nose for once,” take it home and DIE when you try to ingest something that was clearly invented for someone who loves nog as much as I do. For you people I drank the equivalent of the uncanny valley of eggnog. For you people I drank the metaphorical Deadenbacher. For you people I traveled to Hell’s gates, knocked on the door, and then yanked on the chain of the three-headed demon-dog that eats souls and salivates liquid-hot magma. And for you people I let that demon-dog hump my leg. I hope you’re happy.

Some answers

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on April 23, 2007 @ 8:19 am
in art, atheism!, beer, food, horror, i am so fucking awesome, jesus is fo' shizzle, money, necrophilia, nog, sex and zombies
. 8 Comments

It’s Me… Maven:
“Hypothetically speaking… If one were to shave their taint and then get a tattoo of buddha, Jesus and Mohammed in flagrante with Mother Theresa, would that be a sin? What if they were caricatures instead?”

I’m not sure what a shaved taint has to do with it (did Tina Turner write that song?) unless of course the tattoo was being applied to the aforementioned area of hairlessness. In any case, it would be a sin if you were Jewish, I guess, because I know they’ve got some rules about tattoos and piercings, but really I don’t think an atheist is the best person to ask about what does and does not constitute sin.

Alan:
“Ok, since you insisted, here’s my necro question:
Could you please list all the permutations of necrophilia? I feel I’ve forgotten some.”

You are an idiot. Also, the many permutations of necrophilia include necro-bestiality, necro-incestuality, necro-erotica, and pretty much any and all sexual contact with real or pretend dead people or animals.

johnny dollar
“i have a ‘90 subaru legacy w/ +200k miles on it. once the car has warmed up after an hour’s drive, when i come to an intersection to stop, the car will shut off. it starts up right away and keeps running until the next time i stop, and then it dies again…any ideas about what might be the problem?
thanks!
oh wait… is this not car talk?”

As far as your first question, I’d advise you to lubricate the reverse reticulator valve while disengaging the Johnson coupler on the flange capacitor. This might be a euphamism.
As for your second question, yes, this is Car Talk. See the answer to your first question for proof.

Poppy
“Are you gonna eat my brains in July or what?! Cuz I’m not coming to MD if my brains won’t be ett.
My real question: If you had to choose between eggnog and all other alcoholic beverages which would you choose and why?”

No, I will not eat your brains. Brains are gross. I will eat your kidneys.
This is a good question, but after a few seconds of thought I realized that there is a beverage that I love more than eggnog: beer. There’s no way I could blog about beer though, because I’d never get anything else done, I love it that much. I’d much rather never have eggnog again than never have beer again.

miss kendra
“i have gone over it 892573459 times, and yet my checkbook is still off by $10. why?
will my ankle/foot ever function properly again? because i have lots of pretty heels i’d like to wear.
what is the reason for the season?”

1) Either your bank is sloppy, or they reserve $10 as a minimum amount to have in your account. Stop using banks, start burying your money in the sand at low tide.
2) Yes, because no one should be forced to live without being able to wear a pair of leopard print kitten heels.
3) Beer. See Poppy’s question.

That other Lori
“Why do you hate America, ACW?”

The reasons are almost to numerous to count:

The foreigners
The citizens
The old
The young
Minorities
The majority
Republicans
Democrats
Walmart
Jesus
Et cetera

But really, the number one thing that makes me hate America are all the freedoms. I particularly hate the first amendment. What? Blog?

That’s all for now. Tune in next time as the questions devolve into cartoons I was watching as a kid.

WACW, Glen Burnie; transmitting without an FCC license

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on March 23, 2007 @ 10:06 am
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The other night my douchebag cats were keeping me up by doing stupid douchebaggy things like banging on the closet doors, banging on the shower doors, and banging on the doors to the linen closet. Why do they do this? Because they want me to get up, because when I get up that means I might feed them. Might. So, in an attempt to get food at 2, 4, and 6am, they bang on all kinds of shit so that I might get up and feed them. This is their version of the lottery, and I’ve started giving them the “jackpot” by squirting them in the face with a spray bottle of water. Hopefully in a few weeks it’ll sink into their heads that banging on shit equals wet face.

On this particular night I tried to go back to sleep, but of course my mind wandered, and as usual, the first thing my mind wanders to is movies. Horror movies. In an attempt to not terrify myself awake by thinking of the crazy American guy blowtorching the face of the Japanese girl in Hostel while surrounded by zombies from Night of the Living Dead and running away into the foot-chase from Texas Chainsaw Massacre I instead thought about cell-phones in horror movies, and why they’re never brought along.

Can you imagine the frustration of the moviegoer to have sit through a scene like this?:

Hero dialing phone.

Hero: Hey man, we could really use some help here…. Hello… What?… No, it’s Mike… MIKE… IT’S MIKE… MIKE… Hello?… What?… Yes, it’s Mike… YES, IT’S MIKE… We need some help… HELP…. WE NEED SOME HELP…. What?… Are you still there?… What?… WE. NEED. SOME. HELP…. Yeah… Yeah, help… We’re at the farm. … The farm… THE FARM… AT THE FARM… THE Fa oh fuck it, I’ll just do this myself.

Hero throws phone at zombified serial killer that’s been waiting politely for the call to end.

Aaaaand scene.

Nobody wants to see that movie. Except for maybe me. But anyway, while I was laying in bed thinking about that, I distinctly heard the sound of a voice being transmitted through an electronic medium, and it freaked me right the fuck out.

It wasn’t clear enough to be a TV or radio. It wasn’t even clear enough to be a cell phone. It sounded like someone was talking quietly through a megaphone. I lifted my head up to get a better location on the sound, and I caught a “can you give me a locatio”, so I figured it was the cops or an ambulance, but couldn’t figure out why they were using a megaphone outside. Then I heard, “it’s a uhhhhhh 10-”, and suddenly I realized that the sound wasn’t outside, but was INSIDE the house.

I whipped my head around to check my phone. It was closed. It couldn’t be that. The TV was off and so was the radio, and I knew for a fact that computer was off because I checked it before I got back in bed after spraying the cats.

“what’s the uhhhh”

It was right next to my ear. To say that the paranoia was overwhelming would be an understatement. My chest was constricting. My eyes were bulging out of my head. My body was completely rigid. It wasn’t until I heard it again that I realized I hadn’t been breathing.

“a car about three”

I very slowly turned my head to look at where the sound was coming from, and as Mrs. ACW inhaled I heard, “and it was going” come out of her mouth, and I immediately realized something was happening that I had first read about in Encyclopedia Brown in the 3rd grade, but had never actually experienced until now; Mrs. ACW’s braces were picking up transmissions on the emergency frequency. The voices I heard were those of cops, or ambulances drivers, or somebody, because I could hear the distinct static of the walkie-talkie things they use. And I could only hear anything when she was breathing in. She was breathing kind of heavily, but not to the point of snoring, and her mouth was slightly open. Every time she took a breath in I guess it vibrated her mouth enough for me to hear the transmission, because when she breathed out I couldn’t hear anything.

I actually laid there and listened to the transmissions for about 15 minutes until Mrs. ACW rolled over and the connection was lost. Mrs. ACW thinks I was dreaming about the whole thing and that it’s impossible for it to happen, but I’m 100% certain that I was awake, and even though I can’t find much evidence in a 5 minute Google search, I’m sure somebody out there has had a similar experience or can explain to her that yes, it does happen from time to time. Have you ever heard of this?

The answers

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on January 10, 2007 @ 9:01 am
in Mrs. ACW, devil cat, food, horror, i am so fucking awesome, meta blogging, movies, music, necrophilia, nerd stuff, nog, potty humor, sex, travel and zombies
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tfg- What can I do about this not-so-fresh feeling that I’ve had lately?
I’d suggest take some antibiotics and staying away from the tranny hookers on Calvert Street. Or, wait. Are you back on the street? Your parole officer is going to hear about this. Or, wait again. Is he the one that gave you the clap? Look. Maybe you should just keep it in your pants for a while.

I said IN your pants. Oh, gross! Don’t put it on the keyboard! Oh that’s horrible! You’re going to need a new monitor now.

NPR Junky- How do you and Mrs. ACW file your bills? What do you do with your mortgage statements, and credit card statements and health insurance explanation of benefits once you’ve read them and paid them?
Wow. Really? This has been bothering you? Any particular reason WHY this has been bothering you, or are you just a little OCD with an extra dash of compulsion thrown in for spice?

We file our bills in a few ways. First, we file them on the dining room table. They usually sit there until we file them on the small counter by the foyer. Then I file them on the steps to be taken upstairs. Then they either get filed in a “to be filed” divider, or on my “to be filed” pile. Then the finally get filed in the proper folder in our filing cabinet. This process takes approximately 6 years.

Diamond Lil- Did you actually swallow the bite of eggnog soap? I mean, obviously you bit into it, but did you swallow?
Yep. It was oozy and gross, but everything that didn’t get stuck in my teeth or form a film on my tongue went into the old crap factory.


Poppy- When are you coming to visit me?
Well, I’ve been meaning to travel out west during the summer for some time, and I’ve always wanted to see the southern part of the country in the winter, and the northeast is lovely in the fall, so as soon as that season arrives, I might just have to make a trip. ;)

Bekah- Are any of your toes webbed?
Nope

What’s your favorite position to sleep on - your back, your side, or your front?
It’s funny. I always start sleeping on my left side. A few minutes later I’ll rotate to my back. A few minutes after that I’ll rotate to my right side. And a few minutes after that I’ll end up on my stomach. I can’t fall asleep until I make the full rotation. I usually wake up on my stomach too.

Do you snuggle with Mrs. ACW or is does she demand that you keep all arms and legs and other bodily parts away from her?
Yes, I snuggle with Mrs. ACW, but she also demands that I keep away from her. In my first stage of sleeping, she smooshes up against my back until I’m ready to make my first 90 degree rotation.

Have you ever smelled something funky and thought, “was that the cat?” And then sniffed the cat’s butt?
To answer the first question, yes. And frequently, yes, it is the cat. To answer the second question, no, I’ve never smelled the cat’s butt. Buttholes kind of gross me out.

Who is your favorite vampire of all time?
Well, I guess it depends on what vampire mythology you buy into. I’ve always been kind of partial to the idea that Caine was the original vampire (and thusly my favorite vampire) based on the idea that when God threw Caine out of Adam and Eve’s lands, Caine was condemned/cursed to starvation with his only option for sustenance to drink human blood.

What movie do you hate so much that you wish you could break every single copy of it ever made and smack the director in the forehead?
Dr. T and the Women. If you like this movie, please kill yourself. Richard Gere is a lady-parts doctor and surprise surprise is surrounded by a lot of women. Two hours of bullshit happens, and then Dr. T is flung into Mexico by a tornado, just in time to deliver a baby. “What the fucking shit?!” you must be saying to yourself. I’m serious. That’s what happens. Don’t watch it or you might stab out your eyeballs upon whatever you first lay your hands. Keep in mind this is coming from a guy who watches horror movies with one star (or lower) ratings… for fun.

Have you ever dyed your hair? If so, what color(s)?
Nope. But I have had all kinds of braids, plaits, cornrows and such.

Have you ever dyed your pubic hair? If so, what color(s)?
Nope.

Have you ever dyed your cat’s hair? If so, what color(s)?
Nope.

Jules- You’ve probably covered this somewhere, but how old are you?
I’m 26. Actually 26 and 101/365.

Anonymous-Do you house to the right or the left?
Oh! It’s too bad this comment is anonymous, or otherwise I might have felt compelled to answer. As it stands, the commenter didn’t even bother to come up with a fake name. Sorry, I’m going to have to let this one go by.

Robin- Why don’t you get your cat’s glandular problem fixed?
Huh? Are you talking about Wookie being a big fatty? Or that both of them lay down the dookies like it’s going to be illegal tomorrow? I would never change my kitties, even if they grow to be the size of armchairs. Because then I could charge admission.

When and how did you and Mrs. ACW meet?
ACWF and I met while we were in college. We were both English majors, and so we had a few classes together. One semester in particular we shared a class on Mondays and Wednesdays, as well as a class on Tuesday and Thursday. After watching ACWF in classes for about a week, I noticed that she always smoked before class. One day, even though I didn’t smoke very much, I waited for her to go outside, and I followed her and bummed a smoke. The rest is history, or something.


Karla- Why, when I peeked in your bedroom window the other night, did I see you wearing a pink nightie and fishnet stockings? And does your wife always sit in the corner and sob like that?
Let’s see. That must have been last Thursday night, because Thursday night is always Pink Nightie night, and every alternating Thursday is Crying night, so you must have caught us on a pretty wild night. Not as wild as alternating Mondays Pirate night on months that end in -Ember with optional Clown Suit spectator nights, but they happen so rarely it’s hard to contain the magic.

Bekah- What’s your favorite method of “curing” the hiccups?
I take a deep breath and then exhale slowly through my nose while trying to control my diaphragm. Ha! I said a word about something that goes in a hoohoo!

When is the most recent time you puked and what were you puking up?
I refer you to this post.

bloggadocio- Is the Friendly’s on Rte 2 still there?
If you mean the one in the heart of all the car lots in the heart of Glen Burnie, yes, it’s still there. Unfriendly’s is still, very unfortunately, there.

trinity67- 1. If our legs bent the other way what would chairs look like?
Well, they would probably still look the same, except they would be turned around. But chances are greater that we wouldn’t really need chairs at all. It’s much easier to sit with legs like that than our regular legs.

2. Who puts the “Thin Ice” sign in the middle of the lake?
I have yet to see evidence that a Thin Ice sign is placed in the MIDDLE of a lake. Typically, it’s placed at the edge of a lake, on the shore, or on the lake at a point where the ice is not too thick to stand. And depending on who owns the lake (the park service, a private company, etc.) any number of people could be responsible for sign placement.

3. If 7-11 is open 24 hours why are there locks on the doors?
So the clerk can take a dump in peace when he’s working alone.

4. How do they get teflon to stick to the pan?
Teflon is sprayed onto the pan when the material is at an extremely high temperature. When the pan is cooled, and then dipped into a special chemical bath that helps with maintaining the protective surface during shipping, the teflon should stay on until it’s rubbed off.


It’s Me… Maven- 1. If one were to engage in necrophilia with an animal of another species, but of the same gender, does that make one gay? That’s not necrophilia. That’s necrobestiality. And no, it doesn’t make one gay. One is born gay. Plus, I think you can only be a homo within your own species. Outside of that you’re just a pervert.

2. If both the human and the animal in question were to engage in the aforementioned activity, while wearing matching mukluks and ear muffs, does that make it any MORE gay? The animal can’t engage in the activity if it’s dead. Only the human can. What the human wears is irrelevant, unless it’s white after labor day, which is a major fashion faux pas.

3. What if both #1 and #2 were the case AND they were listening to Hank Williams Jr., songs, BACKWARDS on their turntable? Still gay? More or less so? Not gay at all. Hank Williams Jr. is a rockin’ country music machine. Hank Williams Jr. could eat most pop-country music stars alive and shit out career felons, he’s such a badass.

4. Which is worse in your book? Necrophilia or beastiality?
Bestiality is worse. Necrophilia, gross as it may be, is a relatively victimless crime. Yes, it’s horrible for the surviving family members IF they know about it, but a living animal can’t consent. Once you’re dead, your body is worthless, so who cares if someone wants to poke around with it? A living animal is just that; living. It can feel pain.

stephanie- People keeping asking me who the anonymous coworker is and if he’s someone I work with. I say he’s an enigma and for them to mind their own business. I guess this really isn’t a question.
You’re damn right it’s not a question. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your damn mouth shut.

Huw- If you had your own chat show, who would be your first three guests on your opening show?
Huw, first of all let me say that you always pose such interesting questions. Normal enough to be considered, but difficult enough that they always take me the longest to answer. In this case I have no idea who my first three guests would be. I think I’d like to speak to some scientists about their research, some comedians about their opinions of the way our world is working, and I’d like to give some of the musicians I listen to a chance to come on and talk about their work as well. But I guess if I must narrow it down I guess I’d like to speak to Eddie Izzard. I’ve always found him hilarious, and I’ve got tons of questions that I’d like to ask him. I’d also like to speak with the Beastie Boys, if I could lump 3 people in as one, because their music has changed so much over time, and they’ve changed politically as well. I think I’d also like to speak with George Romero. He’s always been a bit of a hero of mine, and I think I have some questions for him that may not have been asked of him before.

What’s your favourite Urban Myth?
I would have to be honest and say that I hate urban myths. I feel like they give people a reason to live their lives ignorantly. Like they are an excuse for culturally accepted idiocy.

Mighty Dyckerson- How often do you trim your pubes?
About once a week, or whenever they start poking out from under my cuffs on my pants. Whichever comes first. (Also, I think your blog url might be typed in wrong when you comment. Just an fyi.)

miss kendra- i would like to know some screening questions so that when i’m looking to date people of the male gender, i will know if they are suitable or not. so. what are some good screening questions for ME to ask- and i mean me, not any other single girl? just me. mememememe.
Okay, your first question should always be: Hey, do you like gnomes?

If the boy answers affirmatively, you should then proceed with any of the following in any order:
Do you like my cookie smell?
Are you allergic to cats?
Rock and or roll?
Do you know Dave Grohl?
What is the clitoris?
Where is the clitoris?
Will you make fun of my soy nog?
Will you wait for this booty for a year?

Amy- If you wrote a book and Oprah featured it on her show, would your book:

Be fiction or memoir?
Fiction. Who would be so conceited as to want to write about themselves to an audience of strangers on a daily basis?

If your book were fiction, would it be: Sci-Fi, Romance, Western, Literature, or Soft Core Pornography?
Sci-fi, if you can count zombies as sci-fi.

If your fiction book fell under the Sci-Fi, Western, and/or Soft Core Porn categories, what would you name the main characters?
The main character would probably be named Dr. Killblood Harbinger Deathknight. I guess maybe the zombies would be named Gary, or Chet, or maybe Doug.

If your book were memoir, would it be: 100% true, 90% true, 50% true, somewhat true, or Sci-Fi Soft Core Western Porn?
Maybe I could pretend it’s Dr. Deathknight’s memoir, and from his perspective it could be 100% true!

What question are you just dying to ask Oprah?
“Why can’t you shut your fat fucking mouth for just two seconds?”

Deanne- Should I bother asking mine, with so many better questions on the table? (HA!)
Of COURSE you should bother asking your question. But by the time you get around to reading this, I’ll be well beyond wanting to answer it. So there.

Wait…


Desk Job- If you were to write the ten commandments of blogging what would they be?
1) Thou shall not be a mommyblogger (being a mother who blogs is acceptable)
2) Thou shall not comment anonymously
3) Thou shall not be a catblogger
4) The media shall not use the phrase “weblog or blog”
5) Thou shall not be offended by a blog, thou shall simply move on to a new page
6) Thou shall not lurk
7) Thou shall not feed the trolls
8) Thou shalt comment
9) No stealing the work of others and passing it off as your own
10) Thou shalt link back

Did you get the e-mail I sent you about the ducks?
Um. I don’t think so.

When are you going to drink the Can Nog I sent you?
I was going to drink it this weekend up in New York. Once you open the can, it’s not like you can close it again, and I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I was only going to open it when lots of people were around. Though, if you want I could hold on to it. I don’t think it goes bad for another 2 years.

How many signs/posters/pictures do you have in your bathroom?
Off the top of my head… um… 11 or 12. I think.

——————————————————————————————————

And that’s it. However, you people should be ashamed of yourselves. Over 40 comments about cats, and yet only half as many with questions. For shame!

Seriously, he used the term “like pumping a bag of maggots”

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on August 21, 2006 @ 10:17 am
in Mrs. ACW, bitches, horror, necrophilia and zombies
. 6 Comments

I’m not the type of person who does a lot of reading. I can walk into a record store and spend hours flipping through used CDs, leave the store empty-handed, and still feel like my time was well spent. I can go to a video store, pick “Stealth“, watch it, be consciously aware that I chose to turn my brain off, and not have a problem with it. With books, though, it becomes a different issue. Because of my obsessive compulsive nature I have to finish any book that I start. Because I got my degree in Literature, I analyze every book I read as I read it. And because 90% of all books in bookstores and libraries are schlock, I prefer to only read recommendations from friends, and never actually go in one of those buildings, for fear that I’ll start reading a crap book and be unable to not finish it.

Since I’ve been with Mrs. ACW, who reads constantly and has been known to make trips to the library on consecutive subsequent days, I’ve started taking risks again, and choosing books off the shelves. At first I was only reading books by authors with whom I was already familiar. Then I started reading the novels behind some of my favorite movies. And finally I started picking a few books off of Mrs. ACW’s stack if she said that she thought I would like them.

So last week I did something that I haven’t done since I was about 12. I picked a book because it looked interesting, and because I thought I would get at least a little interest out of it, without having any knowledge about the book.

I’ve been reading this book called Mondo Zombie, and it’s so terrible that I think I’m going back to not checking any books out of the library anymore.

And I know what you’re thinking, “Mondo Zombie? How could you lose? You love zombies!” And it’s true; I do love zombies. It’s the necrophilia that’s starting to bother me.

“But ACW, you also love necrophilia. You have a tag for it. It’s at the top of this post.” To clarify, I don’t love necrophilia. You will not find a stronger supporter for necrophilia who doesn’t personally engage in it than me. I find it revolting, to be completely blunt, so when the first story in the book featured it prominently I thought, “Well, at least we got that out of the way,” only to find that most of the stories in the book feature as a central plot tenet the horrifying act of boning the bejeezus out of a corpse.

“Well, at least there’s no incest, right? Right? Please say there’s no incest.” I wish I could. I really wish I could. Those stories that don’t hope to inspire raging hard-ons for doing the “decomposing dirty-dirty” instead hope to inspire the same via inter-familial conjugality. But that’s not all! One mouth-breathing author hoping to create award-winning short-fiction weaves a tale that seems to steal its characters from “Kids” and its plot from that episode of the X-Files where the hillbillies keep their quadruple-amputee mother on a board under a bed until they’re ready to roll her out and rape her again. Add to that the element of zombified sex-slavery, and throw in a dash of “Deliverance“, and you have the single-most appalling tale in the whole sordid collection: necrophilia/zombie incest.

I don’t know the people who wrote these stories, and I don’t want to know these people. Their writing is bad and they should feel bad. The worst part is that all the stories are so derivative of Romero’s movies that they all end up running together and sounding the same. And because the other thread that runs through each story besides necrophilia is someone being zombified via a bite to the peener. Every story!

So, if you’re a perverted, living-in-your-parent’s-basement type who gets off on terrible writing about two undead siblings banging the crap out of each other, this is the book for you. Or, if you’re insulating your home for the winter, this book weighs in at a hefty 400-plus pages, so it’s great for shredding and blasting into your walls to use as insulation.

Meme of fours

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on February 3, 2006 @ 8:30 am
in Mrs. ACW, beer, food, horror, meta blogging, movies, music, nerd stuff, sex, travel and zombies
. 3 Comments

Tagged by Supafine

4 jobs in your life

Record store slave
Student employee
Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Crisis Counselor
Lifeguard

4 movies you could watch over and over

Triplets of Belleville
Office Space
Evil Dead 2
The Royal Tenenbaums

4 tv shows you love to watch

Mythbusters
Dirty Jobs
The Simpsons
Futurama

4 places you have lived

Catonsville, Maryland
Charles Village, Baltimore, Maryland
Glen Burnie, Maryland
That’s it

4 places you have been on vacation

Paris, France
Ocean City, Maryland
Outer Banks,, North Carolina
Finger Lakes, New York

4 websites you visit daily

wordsmith.org
boingboing.net
tbogg.blogspot.com
thismodernworld.com

4 of your favorite foods

buttered rye toast
bacon
crabs
beer

4 places you’d rather be right now

on a plane to anywhere
in a car to anywhere
on a hot, sunny beach
at home canoodling with ACWF

4 bloggers you are tagging
friends
don’t let
friends
do memes

Seriously, right up to his elbow

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on January 31, 2006 @ 1:15 pm
in Mrs. ACW, bitches, horror and potty humor
. 18 Comments

This weekend ACWF and I decided to try things a little differently. Typically we’re quite nice to one another, but Saturday morning we decided to be downright masochistic. ACWF had been trying do do irreparable harm to herself for weeks to no avail. Finally I agreed to help her with her game of pain, hoping it would bring us closer in the long run.

I bit the bullet, closed my eyes, and waited for the pain to commence. ACWF started the car and drove us to the Motor Vehicle Administration.

ACWF needed to renew her license, but the only time she could really make it to the MVA was on the weekend, so I decided to go with her to keep her company. When we arrived we found the other patrons to be in a playful mood. I figured that they were playing charades to pass the time, and it was up to us to guess that they were hundreds of sardines stuffed into a tin can. ACWF thought we had interrupted a world-record attempt at fitting hundreds of people into a tiny, uncomfortable room. We were both wrong. That’s just how the MVA likes to keep people while the are waiting. I imagine that when the machines that build the Matrix take over our society, they’ll probably look to the MVA as an example of how to best slowly suck the life out of humans en masse.

ACWF took a number (156) and we then tried to find a place to sit down (ha ha). The MVA has recently upgraded its offices to better serve the citizenry. First, they made it possible for you to get all your necessary renewal steps completed at one desk. No more waiting in one line for an eye test, waiting in another line for your picture to be taken, waiting in a third line for large, hairy man to shove his arm up to his elbow into your rectum so he can tug on your colon three times. Now the hairy man just waits for you to start the eye test, and the whole process is sped along. So you wait for your number to appear over one of the desks. Lucky for us, they were on 70 when we arrived.

Two spectacular hours later we emerged from the MVA victorious, but psychologically battered. We were surrounded by people on cell phones, and one particularly ignorant gentleman didn’t care if anyone was listening, because he wanted his friend to know that, “You never want help a nigga, you only wanna hold a nigga back. I’m tryin’ to go out and get drunk tonight, have a good time, and you hatin’. When I see you, I’ma choke you, and then I’ma beat your motherfuckin’ ass.” Delightful.

We were also able to get a good look at the frighteningly ugly people that populate our region and who somehow manage to circumvent the odds and find a partner. This partner is also always blighted with similar facial/rectal indistinguishablility. Then they, and their whole assfaced family (including assfaced babies [seriously, if you want to see a real-life commercial for condoms/birth control/forced sterilization, just go to the MVA]), waddle down to the MVA and take up all the seats while making grunting noises and rolling in slop.

We also learned that MVA has a certain smell, and that smell is old cigarette butts and sweatpants that have never been cleaned. ACWF and I, dressed in jeans and tshirts, were by far the best dressed people there. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see someone in a undershirt/pants combo made completely from dirty diapers and duct tape and saying that they shouldn’t have come to the MVA in their wedding clothes.

Just before ACWF was called to the booth to go through the rigmarole of getting her new ID, a baby started crying, and that was the icing on the cake. It’s like when you’re naked and chained down to a table, and someone has slowly been working you over for weeks, pulling out your eyelashes one by one, slipping bamboo shoots under your finger and toenails, dislocating and relocating all your joints, cutting open your stomach and then releasing a starving rat into your intestines before sewing you shut. And then, after so many hours, days, and weeks of pain, your torturer slowly cuts your eyelids off and puts a cigar out in your unblinking, blood-covered eyeball, and you think, “Finally! I am in utter and absolute pain, and my brain can now turn to mush.” The baby crying was exactly that last horrible act to break our souls.

I don’t even think there was a baby there. I just think the MVA pumps in a sound effect over the speakers every few hours.

Amalgam

Published
by
Anonymous Coworker
on January 13, 2006 @ 9:51 am
in devil cat, horror, meta blogging and suhmuhmuh bitch
. 12 Comments

I don’t have a single unified post in my head right now, but I do have a few unrelated smaller posts. Rather than try to force them together into a single surrealistic narrative, I’m just going to put them up on their own. Like three puzzle pieces to three different puzzles.

1) A while ago the Wombat and BJB were talking about what gets BJB motivated to run on the treadmill, and one of the two of them suggested imagining Gary Busey chasing after them with a raging hard-on. Most normal people would have left it at that, but I’m not normal. I wondered what Gary Busey would do if he caught up to you.

Of course he would make sweet, sweaty love to you. Everyone knows that. But what would he do AFTER that. I imagine he would lean over your shoulder (because you know Busey would have gotten you from behind) and gently whisper into your ear at the top of his lungs, “Yeah! Yee haw! You just got Busey’d! Yeah! BUSEY’D!” Then he would hop off of you and yell, “I’m hungry. Somebody get me some dog food!”

2) Last night Sherlock was being annoying so we kicked him out of the bedroom before we went to sleep. At about 3 in the morning I was awakened by a strange sound.

jingle jingle jingle WHACK
jingle jingle jingle WHACK

Apparently Sherlock had carried one of his jingle-ball toys up the stairs and was having a grand old time smacking it against the door. He was hitting the toy hard enough that he was actually causing the door to move a little bit. It was like he was practicing taking shots on goal, and he didn’t care that he kept hitting the goalie. Stupid cat. I waited for the next jingle and then I opened the door just as he was taking his shot. He seemed surprised that the door had opened, and looked up at me.

“I keep it now,” I said as I closed the door in his face.

3) It’s Friday the 13th. Is Jason going to kill you? Probably. How did his day start today? I’d like to imagine it went something like this:

“Jason? Jason, honey, get out of bed.”
“What? What day is it?”
“It’s Friday the 13th, you have a long day of killing ahead of you.”
“Uggh. Where’s my machete? I shouldn’t have had so many white-wine spritzers last night.”
“You were pretTY drunk.”
“Can I ask you a question, Freddy?”
“Sure thing sweetie.”
“We didn’t uh, you know, do anything, did we?”
“Well, I did leave a few claw marks on your back.”
“Damn! Now Mike Meyers is going to find out and I’m going to be sleeping on the couch for a week. I never should have gone to Leatherface’s baby-shower last night.”
“You’re such a bitch when you’re hungover. Just take your back of severed limbs and get out of here.”

I have no idea why I chose to make the Jason, Freddy, Mike Meyers, and Leatherface into queens.

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