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.

Monday, April 14, 2014


Getting The Stories Out Of Me Before I Burst

You know it's pretty bad when you end up sitting there, looking at a blank computer screen, and you find yourself apologizing to it. Well, of course not it, but to all of you who are so good to me and who read my movie reviews, whether once or many times. So, I'm sorry.

If you've noticed, the bottom of my movie reviews have had a Miss Murder name on them. That's my new moniker in case I hadn't mentioned that before. It was going to be the new moniker of a friend who wanted to help me, she wanted to try writing reviews, except her idea of a scary movie and my idea of a scary movie (in other words, I don't think there are any) were much different. So, I asked her to take care of my Facebook horror page, figuring that would be much easier for her.

What she didn't realize, apparently, was that taking care of my Facebook page involved finding content and posting it every day several times a day. I don't like spamming people's pages with all of my entries at once, although sometimes and some days it happens that way, so I was looking forward to having someone who could, through the day, put two or three things up and keep the page updated and interesting.

That lasted for about four days. Maybe three. It wasn't the poor little thing's fault, she just didn't realize what kind of work it took to find interesting things that thousands of others hadn't already posted to put on the page. I myself find that at times that's pretty much all I have is what other people already have posted. I just have to cross my fingers and hope that whoever is looking at this page hasn't already seen these posts, like I said, 100 times before.

She apologized all over the place and I really felt bad for her. She didn't realize that this would turn out to be like a job, not a little diversion every once in a while. So she backed out gracefully as she does because she is a very nice young lady. But I liked the name Miss Murder, and so even though I'm not a Miss nor have I ever murdered, that is now my new moniker.

And now, for no reason whatsoever, this:

Funny Bunny Wind-Up Jelly Bean Pooping Easter Bunny Candy Dispenser (Colors Vary) sold by Amazon (marked down from $48 to $18.95 + shipping)

Customer Review by Bradley Singer: Last night I suddenly awoke to a weird humming sound. Now usually I chalk this off to my air conditioner or the generator my neighbor uses to power his electrical bug killer, or even my chronic night terrors, but the sound was somehow different then all of these. Wondering what the noise was, I turned on the light. You should of seen my face when I saw a line of jelly beans leading out of my room and down the stairs. What could it be? Was it Aliens? Was it the Illuminati? Was it Obama? Was it all three?

I didn't want to give away my location, so I tried to follow the trail as silently as possible, and, fearing that the jelly beans were poisoned (you can never trust the government these days), I followed them down the stairs and across the hall. The trail ended at my front door, which, after gathering my wits for a few moments and making sure I wasn't having another vivid hallucination involving that weird midget from Twin Peaks, Barry White, and the Pope, I opened the door.

It was a full moon that night, regardless of what your fancy doo-dads might say. And there standing on the roof of my neighbors car, silhouetted in that large white orb, was the Funny Bunny Wind-up Jelly Bean Pooping Easter Bunny Candy Dispenser. Now, I don't really believe in the supernatural, but that creature, machine, or whatever the hell it was looked like some sort of remnant of a long-passed Pagan Era, you know, the times when they worshiped Jim Belushi in a Toga and the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

And so, awestruck, I pulled out the tungsten crucifix from under my nightshirt and chanted, "Funny Bunny Beanie Crapper, be gone!" BAM! I woke up, lying in my bed. Rushing outside, I found that the trail of jelly beans had disappeared, and the Funny Bunny with it. However, judging from the smell in my bathroom, I can easily assume that I ate them all.

I don't know if I will ever see that wind-up rabbit again. And so I sit, day after day in a café, hoping that one day, our paths may cross again. Sometimes I see it in my dreams, the kind where I wake up drenched in sweat in Ohio, with no memory of how I got there.

I hope I will see it again. I hope it has remembered me. I hope it has not moved on. But real life is no fairy tale, and I know the Funny Bunny Wind-up Jelly Bean Pooping Easter Bunny Candy Dispenser doesn't really love me. And at times like that, I can only sit back and cry.

That's an actual product by the way. If you look further down the page you find this product. What's with all the scatological -themed candy lately?

Anywho, that nice young lady came back. She promised to try harder, even though I kept telling her that this was not a requirement, but just something she could do if she could handle it, and if she wanted to. But now we needed a new moniker for her. I am Miss Murder and so we decided that her name would be Boy Wonder.

Just kidding, even if she were a boy I doubt that's the name she would pick. So now my partner in crime, for as long as she can stand it, is Miss Mayhem. I would include her in the cool little gif that Google so kindly made of my sign-off title, but I am totally clueless as to how to make a simple gif.

Speaking of totally clueless just for a moment, I'd like to talk about why Microsoft seems to need to force updates on its customers. Now, I got this computer almost 2 years ago. It was, I guess, what you'd consider top-of-the-line for its time. Since these things go obsolete within months, I decided to enjoy it while I had it. 

I mean, it has a monitor that's better than any TV I've ever owned. Windows 8 was kind of hard to get used to, since the latest version I had ever used before was the XP which as you know is now a dinosaur and Windows has just 'killed' it by announcing it would no longer be supported. Windows won't even admit knowledge of its existence anymore.

But. Wait. A few months ago we came upon what I guess is called Patch Tuesday, which has now become a dreaded date on my calendar. On Patch Tuesday, my Windows was upgraded without my knowledge to Windows 8.1. I hate it. All of a sudden, the Windows I had gotten used to was now retro-graded down several versions as far as I was concerned. When the computer started, it went straight to the desktop. Yes, there's a start button in the lower left corner like there used to be in the old days, but I didn't say I wanted that. Apparently enough people did, so Windows decided to shut everybody up and mess with something that didn't need it.

With every Patch Tuesday, new and horrible things happen to my computer. I'm getting really, really pissed off at it. No, not at it - at Microsoft. I dread Tuesdays now. One other new item I noticed, which I first blamed on my poor little kitties, was that every time I turned my computer on, the number lock key was off. I figured they were just stomping on the keyboard while I was asleep. Now I find out that that was just another little Microsoft perk for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

So this morning I thought this was ridiculous. I used to be able to take these things apart down to the little bitty components, figure out what the hell was wrong with it, and put it all back together and get it working. Now I was having fits because my apps kept needing an extra step of a button just to get to them. Ludicrous. 

So with this handy dandy new system, it comes with a search that supposedly finds an answer to any question you have about this new programming. It took about half an hour to find it, which is dumb all by itself for such a simple question, but I finally found the answer to how to have the computer turn on and go right to the start page with all of the apps like it used to when I first bought it.

BUT. To close said apps by 'grabbing' them at the top and pulling them down was too... difficult for these brain-dead computer buyers, so now they have (like in the old days) an 'X' to get out of the app, another thing I DID. NOT. WANT. Do you know how many apps I had that were still open until I figured THAT little gem out?

But what about that number lock key? Why, all of a sudden, does it not stay on until purposely turned off? Well, you can thank Patch Tuesday for that. So once again I looked for an answer to a question that should never needed to have been asked. Another disgruntled user had already asked the same question, and this was part of the answer: Go into your C prompt, use the regedit command, and… What the hell? Mess around with my programming just to get my number lock key on? Screw that, I'll just turn the sucker on. It isn't THAT much of a big deal.

I've digressed again, haven't I? Sorry about that. This was to officially welcome Miss Mayhem to this column and hope that soon she has the courage to do her own column. I'm sure she will. She has much younger fingers and so can type much more than I can. She's even offered to 'fix' my blog - when I started I used a much different format so the older entries look... bad. But that is a lot of work, so I just said 'Only when you feel like it and don't do too much.' I like this kid.

I digress yet once again because I discovered something very interesting. Dictating my column is going to be very uncomfortable soon, as this weather continues the up-and-down pattern that doesn't even resemble Spring at all. I was dictating a movie the other day (it's not nearly finished yet, which is why you haven't seen it), and I'm talking and all of a sudden on my screen I'm seeing hum hum hum hum hum hum hum… What the hell?

Apparently, this dictating software is so sensitive, that the fan I am running to keep from sweating to death is being picked up by the microphone. Oh sure, it never can understand when I use the word uh, duh, or any other of my, let's say, signature words. But it apparently knows Fan speech. Maybe next I'll teach it Klingon. Oh and by the way, I had to separately spell each of those words of mine, but this bloody thing knew very well how to spell Klingon. It even capitalized it. Sheesh.