Hello to all those faithfully reading and hopefully enjoying this effort to make even the worst horror movie more watcha... aw, screw that - I'm not that good. If a movie makes you cringe because yet another batch of unlikable teens that are pushing 30 are inching toward their deaths, having a party no one does anywhere ever, a paranormal movie is boring you to tears with unending pans of empty rooms, or thanks to CGI technology when people finally bite it, their blood squirts everywhere except on the victim, the ground, the people next to them... you're in good company and this is the right place for you.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

YET ANOTHER GRIPE PAGE ABOUT EVERYTHING AND NOTHING SO JUST DEAL OR PASS, YOUR CHOICE...


Random Bleating From Yours Truly

First, my sincere hope that all of you in particularly weird sections of the US and the world going through this 'global warming in reverse' thing are home and safe and warm. Being in the Pacific Northwest often has its advantages, even if it means being frequently wet.

I can hear you groaning from wherever you're reading this you know. In my mind of course. Yes this is yet another 'why can't you just be normal' type of entries. The abnormal being myself. When I started this blog it was at a friend's suggestion since I was posting all the time about what was wrong (or right once in a while) with horror films. And thus I Watch 'Em So You Don't Have To was born.


It was going to be both a creative outlet as well as therapy for me. Since my illness began (for those of you lucky enough not to have read my previous gripes I have fibromyalgia with a nice mix of other ailments for texture and color) my ability to concentrate, read, or even write had become harder and harder to do. My ability to write particularly suffered - for a while, the best I could manage (very, very slowly) was my signature and it still looked like a doctor's handwriting (old joke, sorry).

This means typing is possible, but it hurts like hell, some days more than others. But at least you can READ what I type and thank goodness for spellchecking. Oh, I know how to spell, but my fingers suck at hitting the right keys. I remember in the days when I could take a computer completely apart and put it back together or add a bunch of stuff to it without a sweat that there were dictating programs that would do your typing for you. They were supposed to be 'smart' enough to pick up on your style of speech so that the accuracy would improve with each use. Cool. 


I don't remember having a joystick - I probably broke that too.
So I got one (this was when I was healthy) and installed that puppy, went to use it... and it crashed my computer, HARD. It took days to get it up and running again. I threw that damned program away and never tried again. I understand they've greatly improved on the programs that do that, plus computers are also much improved and can handle that kind of load - but have you seen the prices? Yikes.

So I took notes on the movies I watched 'cause after the credits rolled I couldn't have told you the plot to save my life. Do I use the IMDb and the wiki as part of my reviews? You bet - not to copy them, but to make sure I get names and the progression of the story straight. 'Cause even when I write the stuff down, there's no a guarantee that when I started the review I can read, much less understand, what I wrote. But I was determined to force the fibro back - get interested in TV shows, other types of movies, books, maybe even beading (a hobby I was actually pretty good at before).


Yeah, kinda feels like this.
Relax, this isn't a real animal.
But for those in the know or who just have a loved one with fibro, there is NO forcing of anything. I tried a bunch of incentives - good books, DVR'd a freaking ton of TV series, marked hundreds (small exaggeration, it might have been just one hundred) of movies to watch and even bought some more beads (like I needed more - I think I have more than a freaking craft store) and specialized needles. Those of you who know can figure out right now how far I got. That's right - absolutely nowhere. The more I forced it, the less I could do, the more frustrated I got, the more I had to sleep. It. Sucks.

The DVR got cleaned out of all but one series I'm determined to watch dammit (and unfortunately it's not TWD, sorry) and the movies have, unfortunately, been reduced to a list of ones I plan to review in the next couple of months. But after a dry spell lasting - woof, how many years has it been anyway? No matter - I finally got through TWO books - and I'm personally in debt to David Wong (aka Jason Pargin) for that one. He's the head of Cracked.com and the author of John Dies At The End and This Book Is Full of Spiders: Seriously, Dude, Don't Touch It. Since JDATE is in the top ten of my fave movies (I put it on like background music every couple of days) I just had to read and see the REST of the story 'cause I knew that you couldn't possibly tell the whole JDATE story in a 90 minute movie. I was right. 

The first book took me two weeks. The second one, half that. Not because it wasn't as good, it was because my eyes were able to stand focusing on the words longer and longer before the massive headaches set in. So Mr. Wong, thank you very much 'cause I have two new Stephen King novels, a Best Of Horror 2013, and all of my Anita Blake novels sitting with thick dust on the shelves that I'm determined I can now at least attempt to get through.


Yes, they're just this small...
Buuuuut.... as for taking notes for movies <sigh> it's not going as well. I didn't mention the beading because hey, if I can't write, how am I supposed to wrap my sausage fingers around those itty bitty seed beads and get them on a needle? My notes got more and more, uh, hold on I wrote this down.... oh, illegible. And my hands hurt so badly from taking them I couldn't get them from the notebook to the computer. Just typing this much, the pain has crept past my elbows and is working towards my shoulders. If it hits my neck, I'm through for at least a couple of days.


Brrr... scary.
So do I quit or what? The answer is what. Oh, I mean the answer is I ordered myself a digital recorder. The last voice recorder I had took those tiny cassettes you had to keep track of and not sit on or step on or let your cat get hold of them... yeah, digital sounded good. It seemed to be a simple little thing, just turn it on and watch it go, right?

When I first turned it on it beeped at me and asked me to set the date and time. I panicked and turned it off. A couple of days later I tried again, having read over the one of four pamphlets that came with the thing, probably half a ream of paper worth of instructions, only one packet in my language.



Okay so it's not like this... it's actually much, much worse.
I'm learning how to record and save and I've already done a couple of movies that I hope I can at least type up. The hubby says the recorder is a good idea as long as, and I quote, 'you don't write like you talk'. What the hell?

'You know how you talk - don't type that.' How is that, I ask? 'You ramble, you use half sentences, you start conversations in the middle.'

Ah. In other words, in person I'm a crushing bore. Good to know.


Coming up: American Psycho gets psychoanalyzed, Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters should have stayed in the oven, and a huge WTH for 2013's version of Texas Chainsaw 3D; also the much talked about, never seen horror movie worksheet may make an appearance plus what's wrong with today's horror genre pretty much is always what's been wrong with it...