Do you know how many Hellraiser movies there are? There are 9... 9 Hellraiser movies. Why are there 9... And why do I have a perverse need to see them all. They can’t be good. One takes place in space. Once you make your horror movie take place in space...you’re done. The movie line is over. And that’s only the 4th one…5 more happen after that. The last 2 aren’t even numbered. And one is literally subtitled “Deader”.
Deader?
DEADER!!??
The best you could come up for a subtitle is "Deader "? Like oh my god Joe is dead…but the guy in Hellraiser,
well he’s deader. Is the next one "Deadest"? Is the movie really going to be as bad as the
name suggests. After seeing it will I become
brain-dead….er….anyway
Hellraiser is a good fun little move with some nice
practical effects but has one glaring problem, even as I as consummate movie
viewer with excellent taste have trouble getting over. When the gates to hell open and the cenobites
come to “show you such pleasures” and then by some miracle of a chance you are
not carried away on spiked chains to an eternity of screaming mind wrenching
agony…why is your first impulse...to go check out hell. Really…DON’T GO INTO THE GATE TO HELL!!! And not one person chooses to do this in the Hellraiser
2 movie
3, YES THREE, mind-blowingly stupid people decide that despite the fact that
it’s billed as perhaps the worst place in existence next to Afghanistan in August or New
Jersey at anytime. There gonna go check out the sight and sounds of Hell. Because man, your life may be safe but it is
boringly safe. And by god hell is gonna make it really unboring…and
unsafe.
Really unsafe
One more note on the Hellraiser movie and all my female readers
(1 of you at least count) should be appropriately outraged. The main cenobites that are continually shown
are...Pinhead…Cause of the pins in his head. Butter ball…because he’s fat, Chatterbox
…because he chatters and……. Wait for it
“Female cenobite”
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| My name...is female cenobite |
That’s right, even though she has a vagina looking operation
thing happening on her neck and sports some wicked knives she continually sharpens...And actually almost as many lines as the man himself Pinhead…she doesn’t get a
name.
Hell is all like…"Female cenobite # 3,
please report to earth realm to murder some stupid human that doesn't know better than to not go running into hell and torture them for all eternity I repeat Female cenobite #3 please report to your station. Pinhead please report to accounting for your w-2"
Female
cenobites must feel pissy about that. Id be pissy...Can
you imagine a female cenobite on her period…MOVING ON!!
Also Spell check hates the words Hellraiser…but has no
problem with cenobite. Fascinating
Since I work third-shift I get to be awake at the coldest time
of the day, which is also called night. And
as a consequence my feet are GODDAMNED COLD sometimes. Arctic shelf cold even. I’ve worn socks, I’ve wrapped them in a
blanket, and I’ve put pillows on them. Nothing works and invariably
my cold feet indicate to me they are indeed goddamned cold and I suffer for it by losing
all feeling and briefly thinking my feet may have fallen off of
me. And while this is usually rectified by a successful spot check, it does make me want to bring up a point I should make
more often,
1: Sometimes there
really nothing quite like shoving you cold feet in some hot water. It may be one of the top 10 experience’s you
can have. Take those cold cold bitter
feet, get a hot shower and just shove em in.
It’s like sex for feet…or Pedi-porn.
(Pedi being the Latin root for FOOT you people out there who think I
just typed something horrendous). Shoving
them in a big wet, dripping, hot…..area. oooh yeah, dirty foot sex. Not a bucket
list item…but pretty dang nice.
2: One of the things I
really miss about having a wife…is the opportunity to put my ice cold feet on
her in the bed and watch her shriek. It
really made some of those days better
Next week I get to go see Brom cause as mentioned in a previous
post I have won an opportunity go to see him and be immortal…LIKE A GOD!!!... *cough
cough* I’m a little nervous about this though.
Like...he’s Brom and I’m…just some dude that likes him. Should I take things to get signed, make note
card of interesting topics to bring up or stare at him dreamily whilst making his
wife intensely uncomfortable. I know!!! Me and my separated wife are going together, I’ll
start a fight with her about how she never really loved me in front of him so he’ll
have a really good story to tell to his successful art friends later. That’s
a sooper idea!!! I’m gonna do that and I'll
let you know when I get out of the hospital cause my separated wife tried to separate
my head with serrated knife.
You ever look back on your life and think to yourself, man
if only I had not been introduced to subject A I could have saved like…..tons
of cash. I do that a lot these days. My need to collect shit that’s “artsy” is a
terrible habit to have. And yet every time
I kick one terrible collect-y habit, I find another. I feel I must
have a chemical imbalance that causes me to do this…or…OR…I'm just looking for
excuses to justify my rampant greed. No...I’m
sticking with chemical imbalance; I sound sexier and it lets me blame others. Something I honestly feel very good about
doing.
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| Hoarding...not just for breakfast anymore |
Waaay too many people are waay too excited about downtown Abby…and
I have no idea what it is. I feel left
out somehow.
Age quod Agis
