Sunday, October 31, 2010

Saturday, October 23, 2010


Hey white people, ever wish you could dress up like your fav ethnic stereotype but thought to yourself, "Golly, how am I going to pull that off?", well keep reading! Spirit Halloween Superstore makes it easy to embrace your latent racism with super-cool costumes for your Halloween party this year! Just follow the signs to your fav race's costume section!

You can be a tequila drunk Mexican bandito sure to impress all the bueno senoritas-

Or travel to the exotic Far East and sport the Asian costume and get a happy ending with all the hot Asian babes-

But if being another race just isn't your thing you can always just stuff your fat white ass into a Spiderman costume. At least you'll have a clever excuse for why you got white stuff on some girls sexy nurse outfit on the dance floor-

But you'd better hurry because these fly-by-night Halloween superstores get pretty fucked over a few days before Halloween weekend and the carny staff could give a shit really.


Friday, October 15, 2010


Tipper was old school when it came to marriage. So when Al said he wanted to try a little something different in the bedroom she knew that the Bible was cool with letting your husband degrade you in anyway as long as it was in wed-lock. So she put her trepidations aside and let Al put a black sack over her head. Soon Al's akward groping began and she heard a voice through the thick fibers of the potato sack, she heard Ian Gillam's (from Deep Purple) voice singing. She immediately figured it was Al relive his dream of being a super-cool hot-rod racer to his favorite Deep Purple song, Highway Star, which she was ok with but no, this was somehow different, something just wasn't right. She threw the sack off of her head, looked over at the television, and to her horror she saw what Al was imitating. It was Black Sabbath's single Trashed from their ill-fated album Born Again with Ian Gillam as the new frontman. Most people would have been upset that after Dio left to start his own band Tony Iommi thought it was cool to keep things going but Tipper was upset for another reason. The song and video were full of substance abuse, zombie violence, and sexual escapades. Some of which Al was trying to role-play. Suffice to say, Al slept on the couch that night and Tipper wrote in her diary about yet another band that she would put on the mixtape she would present to the courts.

Monday, October 11, 2010


Located in the magical part of the east bay known as Emeryville is a burgeoning skate spot which is simply known as "The Spot". This is a renegade skatepark that is completely funded and built by local skaters. This ain't the Berkeley park, and this ain't Alameda. This is a course that is designed for strictly street skating. This is doing work and the locals will let you know in a hot second.
There seems to be an unwritten code of ethics at The Spot. There is no graffiti allowed, there is no trash, there are no little kids on scooters or even a bmx in site. From time to time you will see a random skater emerge from the train tracks just to do a walk through and police the area. Bottom line is, if you don't act correct, you will get bounced faster than Wesley Snipes at a Klu Klux Klan rally. It's almost like Barter Town in Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (minus Tina Turner in that leg baring fashion masterpiece). What it seems to be turning into is a self sufficient entity that grows more and more obstacles as the weeks progress.

I can't say that I'm at liberty to even say exactly where The Spot is. If you are down, you'll find out yourself. All I know is, if you are there and you see some dudes pull up with a truck full of cement, grab a bag or two and flip them a couple bucks. These guys have worked pretty hard towards there masterpiece and it's only the second act.


Saturday, October 9, 2010


Ever been uninvited? I have. I've been uninvited to just about every social gathering you can think of. It's because I have a tendency to black out and do things I normally wouldn't like puke in the sink and accidentally punch your sister in the mouth. I wasn't really even invited to write this review but like the mutated kitty who terrorizes 80's party animals, babes, and gangsters in the fantastic feature simply titled Uninvited, I'm here to ruin everyone's good time on the TUF E NUF party boat.

Cult sleaze auteur Greydon Clark sets sail on the high sea of cheese with Uninvited(1988). A movie about gangsters who invite some party-lovin' teens onto their yacht in an attempt to cover their criminal cruise to the Caribbean. Two of the 80's babes invited on board take a found cat along with them because it's cute or something. Soon enough Mr. Kitty lets it's true nature show which causes some major complications to both criminal ventures and hard partying. Proving once and for all that cats are one of the worst of the cock-blocking animals. They are selfish fucks who will do whatever they can to sabotage any chance you have of getting any of their namesake. Seriously, the second you see a cat it's an early warning signal to get out while you can. There is a reason why old spinsters are surrounded by hundreds of these beasts. They are the harbingers of loneliness and involuntary celibacy. But I digress, in this instance a cat is a harbinger of death because little does everyone know that a fluffy cat has escaped a sinister animal testing laboratory and has a bat/rat/ghoulie living inside it.

After a title sequence that calls upon every conceivable combination of text wipes we open on an exterior of a high-rise. Inside there are a couple doctor types who are discussing some doctor shit over some x-rays. It's all very technical and when one doctor poses the question "Do you think it's cancer?", the other comes to the very reasoned conclusion that the only way to find out is to "cut it open and find out." The "it" at the center of this medical discussion is a cat. They bring out the subject and attempt to inject it with a sedative before breaking out the knives.

But as a cat always does, anything you don't want it to do, the little fucker runs out of the operating room. Doc is quick to the phone and calls in some guys in radiation suits who shoot the cat with a tranquilizer.

This turned out to be a really shitty idea because a little bat goblin thing pops out of the cats mouth

and makes a mockery out of safety placards with their blood.

Meanwhile, across town, two 80's bros are scopin' for hardbodies at the marina.

Why the marina and not the beach you ask? Well, the dorklord Lance in the toddler's hat asked the very same question. To which Cory, the smart other half of this 80's buddy team answers snidely, "The beach is for riff-raff, if you want to find a classy chick you go to the marina. It's where the money is." Truer words were never spoke because right after that two sarong sportin' dock foxes come a strollin' down looking for a party.

They sit down and right away they let our two buddies know they mean business and by business I mean party and by party I mean hump. As illustrated below by this shot sequence.

Things are looking good for our boys but, of course, right when things are getting sweet a beard wearing gooch named Martin shows up and informs everyone that every hotel in Ft. Lauderdale is booked.

Cory is not happy about Martin's appearance. No one would be. He has a beard. In the 80's if you had a beard you were either a rapist or Michael McDonald or both. Nothing chases the babes off the beach like a beard. Regardless of poor grooming choices for the period, there are only two chicks and now three dudes. Do the math. It's not going to add up. Unless you're thinking about swinging a two-dude threesome and in that case you get the hell out of here right now. This is the 80's not the late 90's.

Anyways, the girls have a solution. The night before a nicely dressed and moustachio'd (appropriate facial hair for that period) gentleman by the name of Oscar Graham had invited the ladies aboard his yacht which is set to sail into the Caribbean. They invite the guys along and things are looking up. They head down to the yacht to meet Mr. Graham.

On the dock Martin discovers the escaped lab cat. The girls immediately start cooing over it and decide to take it with them. As if Martin and his creepy beard wasn't enough of a sexual repellent now our two main dudes are faced with another obstacle to overcome in their quest for poon. A cat. And not only that but a cat with a Mel Gibson sized inner-demon.

The gang takes a motorboat out to the yacht to meet Mr. Graham. A yacht that has a female captain which adds a whole new layer of danger to this ill-fated voyage.

Mr. Graham, understandably, is not happy about the girls inviting three dudes and a cat. The movie is titled Uninvited and now we know just how artfully layered this title decision is. Yet, before he has a chance to uninvite them, some guy shows up and tells Mr. Graham that the police are coming to search the boat. Turns out Mr. Graham is a wanted criminal and decides to set sail for the Cayman Islands immediately. The gang decides they don't care about that and starts the festivities.

Like an 11 year old at a Christmas party the cat lurks in the corners sneaking sips out of people's drinks.

Not before long the nasty little bastard is tanked and the demon comes out to party.

And by party I mean murder.

But this cat doesn't just bite and scratch you to death. If you're unlucky enough to survive the initial attack the mutated blood inside of it will poison you and cause you to die an extremely painful death where your skin bubbles

and your blood sprays everywhere.

But as much as the people on the boat suffer the terror of being killed by a poisonous house cat it is we, the audience, who truly suffer.


This is the closest we get

and that's just not right. For an 80's horror movie it's criminal not to have any nudity. I mean, I would sit through censored for TV versions of these kinds of flicks on USA's Up All Night simply because even just knowing there's nudity is enough sometimes and Uninvited really robs us on the boob front.

But don't let the lack of nudity stop you from watching Uninvited. It's a modern day fable that teaches us a lot of lessons. One is to never get on a boat with a female captain. They will deviate off course more than they deviate from decisions. Women should not "have the right to change their minds" when it comes to everyone's personal safety. The biggest lesson is to never trust a cat. They have a history of not giving a fuck that goes back millions of years. If you have a cat in the room as you read this, look over at it. Looking into it's eyes is like staring up into the night sky trying to decipher some kind of great truth. In the end you're just creating meaning where there isn't any and wasting your time. It's cold, lifeless, and could give a fuck whether you live or die.

I invite you to watch a short collection of scenes here

or download the whole damn thing at Cinemageddon (the unofficial torrent site of Film Buf) here.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010


So you've entered a martial arts tournament that's to the death. You're going to spend weeks training in a South Asian jungle doing the splits, kicking trees, and having some little Asian dude drop coconuts on your balls. Running up stairs, falling down, doubting yourself, painting some Japanese guy's fence for free. But in the end you know it'll be worth it. All that hard work and sacrifice will pay off in your quest to be the best of the best of the very best. You do it for glory, justice, and a shot at Asian dudes hot daughter or that slutty journalist who keeps sniffing around the kumite. It's gonna take all you got, there's no easy way out, but in the end nothings gonna get you down because you've got the touch and your fight to end will always depend on the strength that you have inside you.

While you train you'll no doubt have your Sony Sports Walkman with you. Record this sweet mix (it's pretty fucking awesome) by Hypetrack via Illogical Contraption via Micah from the Archer's Guild onto a cassette for great success!

Blood Bros - First Blood by Hypetrak