This year, Moondoggie went as James Bond. Riley wanted no part of it, but finally agreed to go as a Blofeld-like supervillain, because you know how one half of a couple will whine if the other half refuses to hold up their end of a theme costume. Besides, it didn't require her to change. Enjoy!
Happy Halloween, everyone. So how are you spending the evening?
If Riley went as Blofeld...what did he stroke as he was planning world domination? And how do cats tent their fingers?
Happy Halloween to you and Mary, Scott. Hope it was a fun one (I spent the 'ween watching A&C Meet Frankenstein...life, be my wild mistress...)
But wouldn't Riley in his tux make a better Bond?
Riley is a femme fatale, Actor.
P.S. Scott, that was awesome!
Turner Classic Movies, what else is there to say?
Vincent Price since 5pm yesterday, currently wrapping up the set with "Theatre of Blood".
Diana Rigg. Hippies. Miniskirts and go-go boots.
Doesn't get any better than this, guys.
This movie needs a really LOUD, howling Theme Song! I suggest Barbra Streisand singing "Moon River", cause it has "Moon" in the title. And its REALLY loud
Happy Birthday Chris V
Happy All Saints, ChrisV, if you know what I mean! If anyone deserves Diana Rigg in Courreges boots, it's you.
Scott, you continue to elevate the art of the trailer to astronomical heights. The suspense, the colors, the comedy, the fur. It's almost more than I can take.
Worst Halloween ever!
(No, I am not going to elaborate. Thanks for asking though.)
Bleh. One lousy group of spookers. Of course, the rain and the wind gusting up to 45 mph may have had something to do with that.
Double bill: Murnau's Nosferatu and for something completely different, Honda's Battle in Outer Space. (The latter title being only one slim apostrophe away from a line of surrealist poetry, or a cool name for a J-Pop band.)
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Wanted to go to multiple new venues/events this year, since I had an actual COSTUME this year, and to me, only going out ONCE for Halloween is like the rich-fuck Mardi Gras Krewe members only going to ONE cotillion or debutante-turning-out ceremony.
But I couldn't get up the nerve to go to all of these way-outta-my-semi-hermitized comfort zone, and missed "Evil Dead: The Musical!" because it was in Hipsterville (8th Ward) and I didn't wanna be surrounded by trust-fund-bunny fetuses.
DID make it to the Maple Leaf for one of those several-different-guys-from-different-bands-playing-together-for-one-night things. Yeah, going out and not drinking is very different from the life I *used* to have, when I had a life. Some of those Maple-Leaf-oldsters who belong to their mini-mock "krewe" were snotty, but I met several nice people who had GREAT costumes, not just cheesy shit from Party City or Wally-World. There was an after-party-ish thing @ the Howling Wolf, but that's when my old age kicked-in and I came home. Pictures to follow, soon, I hope, before knee-scope day on Tuesday.
Having a Halloween without a home base like the REAL Dungeon anymore was DEFINITELY different. But at least I didn't have to kill any tourists.
But at least I didn't have to kill any tourists.
Killing tourists would have been an improvement. (Well, at least from my point of view.)
Yes, Dave, it always is, but since I'm having knee surgery tomorrow and was still on the damned CANE on Halloween, who in the HELL was going to help me drag the evidence to the back of my truck until I could rent the woodchipper & get that 50-lb. sack of quicklime!??!!?
Granted, the snottier self-nominated MG-krewe-wannabes who think of that bar as "theirs," they would ALSO make great bone meal & blood meal for THE most-succulent rose blossoms & rosehips out of a half-dozen maturing bushes... But I'd STILL have to hire help and/or a forklift to get their saggy old asses into the hopper@
Yet another thing that sucks about getting old... no longer can I indulge in four-day bacchanalian romps, in-costume, to indulge my fantasies of actually BECOMING something or someone. Hell, after four or five years with NO costume, I finally DID get to assemble one from early-purchased pieces & parts, and then I wussed-out on several reasonably-priced (not cheap, but not gnaw-off-an-arm overpriced, either, no matter HOW these fuckers cull-out the po'folks from the wanted-to-be-viewing public) occasions/semi-adventures, like "EVIL DEAD: The Musical!" But what can I say --- without Bruce, and deep into Hipsterville territory, was it really WORTH the slightly-exorbitant gate price? Not to me. I *should* have gotten off of my fat ass and gone to the Prytania's showing of "Rocky Horror," whether in my current costume or as the most-dangerous Frank N. Furter in HISTORY...
At any rate, we're now in the (hopefully) slacked-off periods in re: tourists in tacky polyester & frat-boy Margaritaville-type bullshit, so the Quarter, a place that I'd discourage anyone else from stalking in the wee, empty hours, is just IDEAL for my own solo perambulations, late at night, carrying my bigger-than-the-po-po's Mag Lite & enjoying the silence punctuated only by my own bootheels.
Y'know,provided that I don't get offed by the ortho guy who's scoping my knee tomorrow, anyway...
And I promise, Dave, if I manage to wrangle a tourist corpse into the compost pile, I'll holler at you & you can come on down & be the next contestant on "DESTROY THAT DNA!"
BTW, before the 3 hours of sleep that I got this morning, FOR NOTHING, since I got FUCKED OUT OF MY KNEE SURGERY AT THE LAST FUCKING MINUTE BY A BITTERLY-DRIED-UP-OLD-FUCKING ***CRONE*** CUNT-ON-WHEELS SO-CALLED "CHARGE NURSE," I *did* manage to sit down and watch the whole cascading array of wunnerfulness of your fillums on YouTube via this little window, Scotty-poo.
WELL DONE, M'BOY!!!
How, exactly, do we nominate this for a short-form fillum competition via AMPAS, so that you can FINALLY getcher OSCAR?!?!?! Granted, there's not a LOT of direction needed, since your stars are so damned unique and engaging, but the camera angles, the photography, the slightly-cheesy wipes & segueways, it just SCREAMS short-film Oscar(TM)!!! Hell, considering what's been winning in the short-form category in the past 20 years, you'd be a SHOO-IN!!!
In my next life, I am SOOOOO coming back as a combination of Riley, Moondoggie, and my Biddy & Boy, with a smidge of James thrown in for arrogant determination. I'd like to be a solid-black kitteh without Boy's arthritis or Riley's recent health skeers, nor the lung cancer that took both of my elder babies, and maybe one calico-colored ear as a nod to Moonie's gingerness, with that long, thicker-than-bear-fur coat that my Bubbe Boy carried with such foofy aplomb. But also sans the Maine Coon waterproofed fur, because those sebum glands are a BITCH if they get blocked-up.
Oh, and I got totally fucking FUCKED OUT OF MY KNEE SURGERY TODAY, so be prepared for a major mailing-list shit-fit at some point tonight, when I can properly FOCUS that righteous indignation/UTTERLY-BATSHIT-CRAZY, ENRAGED BELLOWING FROM THE BOWELS OF HELL...
Good work, though, Boyo. Congrats! So, who's going to volunteer to help me rid the planet of a JOKE of an alleged ortho "surgeon" and one SEVERELY ESTROGEN-CHALLENGED UBER-CUNT SO-CALLED "CHARGE NURSE" OVER THE FIRST-SHIFT CREW IN OUTPATIENT SURGERY AT THE JOKE OF A HOSPITAL ATTACHED TO TULANE UNIVERSITY'S JOKE OF A MEDICAL SCHOOL?!??!?!
Helpful household hint, fates forbid any of you EVER need an ortho surgeon for ANY reason (and REMEMBER, never ever fucking ***EVER*** allow a mere ORTHO to *EVER* touch your SPINE!!!), never ever frog-fucking EVER EVER *EVER* let some mealy-mouthed IDIOT named FERNANDO SANCHEZ anywhere NEAR your joints, and never ever ***EVER*** go in for surgery on the FIRST SHIFT of the Outpatient Surgery Center of Tulane University "Hospital" (HA!), ***EVER***!!!!!! There's a bitter, pin-headed, estrogen-depleted cunt who calls herself the charge nurse on first shift who DOESN'T DESERVE THE JOB, THE TITLE, OR THE NURSING LICENSE!!!!!! I wish that I'd gotten that shrew's NAME, but I didn't. But rest assured, that if they EVER try to schedule me during THAT SNATCH'S SHIFT EVER THE FUCK AGAIN, y'all WILL be seeing me on the NATIONAL NEWS, and NOT from my best angle, I feel sure.
Sorry to hijack the wunnerful thread, darlin', but I'm still so enraged that I'm incapable of shipping-out a cogent e-mail on the subject, especially since I didn't get to hit a SINGLE ONE of the after-Halloween clearance sales, BECAUSE I WAS SAVING-UP FOR CAB FARE for the two weeks post-op when I won't be able to DRIVE.
And no, I am no less dangerous in the passenger seat than I am behind the wheel, so the idiotic locals AND the mouth-breathing tourists will still be upbraided and appropriately verbally-castigated & castrated, as this little piggy cries "FUCK YOU DIE!!!!" all the way home.
One more OT, then I promise to shut the fuck up --- my Secret Word, avec or sans mustachioed duck, is, I shit y'all not, "ANAL SOW" !!!!!!
I know that I abuse y'all's patience & generosity far, far too much already, but what did I do to deserve THAT ONE?!!??!
And THEN, after Google tried to disappear the original comment, my NEXT Secret Word was "FAT GLORE"!!!!!! Is that supposed to be "Fat Gore" (who cares how fat he's gotten? The brain still functions!) or "Fat Glory," in which case, EEYYEEWWWW!!!!!! because I fucking LOATHE chubby-chasers or similar fetishists, like the freaks who wanna be TRAMPLED by a fat chick in HEELS --- though I should NEVER have given those SERIOUSLY-BAD-ASSED, stack-heeled FMPs away, simply 'cause they reminded me of THE most-disgusting phone calls that I've ever experienced... I'll NEVER be able to replace those bastards, because GARGOYLE'S on Decatur will never exist again.
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