Is NOTHING Sacred?!

The Rocky Horror Picture Show, CP Images

‘Rocky Horror’ gets remade





‘Rocky Horror’ revisited



By Brian Bento


‘Picture Show’ gets remake; Jon Heder is a zombie


Fox and MTV are teaming up for a two-hour remake of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, reports Variety.

Helmed by the 1978 film’s executive producer, Lou Adler, the new version will use the original musical screenplay for The Rocky Horror Show written by Jim Sharman and Richard O’Brien, and may add in some additional music.

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I am SO not impressed with this. Somebody make it stop. And, for the record, Rocky Horror was released in 1975, not ’78…

Not-So-Random Song for the Day: “Dammit, Janet” – Barry Bostwick, Susan Sarandon

The Waitress, the Whiskey, and the Handcuffs – Part III

The Waitress, the Whiskey & the Handcuffs
The Waitress, the Whiskey & the Handcuffs
The Waitress, the Whiskey & the Handcuffs
Part 1 of The Ruby Chronicles

Ruby Daniel is a 30-something widow trying to get by in a small backwoods Northern town in the 1950’s. Her chicken farm is failing, and she takes a weekend job as a barmaid at an illegal drinking establishment run by a crooked police officer, hoping the extra income will allow her to keep her farm and raise her kids.

When her crude and offensive employer plays an embarrassing prank on her, Ruby gets revenge with the help of her mother, whose devious tactics and unrestrained glee in the details of retaliation leave Ruby in awe, and a little fearful of the woman who raised her.

This comedic short story will leave you laughing out loud and cheering Ruby on, as she learns that standing up for herself can sometimes backfire, but revenge really does taste sweet – and an indignant mother is a surprisingly fierce force to be reckoned with…

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The Good, the Bad, and the Downright Creepy…

The Exorcism of Emily Rose
The Exorcism of Emily Rose

The Good

I slept last night! Oops. I guess I mean the night before last. Friday night, anyway.

I’ve been having sleep concerns since before I quit the Dream Job; it’s a big part of the reason I quit to begin with. Still wide awake, staring at walls, ceilings, clocks, tvs, computer screens, or the insides of my eyelids until sometimes 5:30 am. Nasty. I thought quitting the Dream Job would solve that. Nope. Maybe it’s that I’ve spent the entire school week that just passed listening to Larry, Darryl, and Darryl drop all those cars on my roof, instead of working. I’m a little nervous about my schedule again, now.

Whatever it is, it could be a lot worse. One of my blog buddies has been going through a bout of “Fall Asleep and then Pop Awake Again Every 20 Minutes Syndrome”, which I’ve experienced on occasion and it’s much worse.

Worse still, is if insomnia turns into a full-blown White Night, which, if you’re familiar with the works of L.M. Montgomery, specifically, the Emily series, you’ll understand why I consider it so. Luckily, I haven’t suffered a white night in a long, long time.

Anyway, I slept! Through the night! (hooray!)

The Bad

I woke up from my wonderful, sound sleep this/yesterday morning staring Kyla’s brown rat, Fatso Ratso in the face, he smiling and nudging my chin, having chewed through the base of the replacement cage that he got as a reward for chewing 18 holes through the base of his old one.

And so, we must part ways. I haven’t figured out how that will happen yet. I like the little (huge) guy, and don’t want to be cruel and set him “free” to be eaten by a bird. He could probably take a bird, if he had any meanness in him, but he’s a friendly, little (huge) goofball, and the only living creatures that are afraid of him are the cats. I imagine that’s because he’s bigger than they are.

But go, he must. He chews everything. Like my modem cables. And Kyla’s underwear, which would probably cure her of leaving it on the floor if she had any left. I’m hoping the pet store will feel sorry for us and take him back. Not give us a refund – just take the damned rat off our hands.

The Creepy

Kyla and I watched a horror movie tonight. We’ve been into the recent “exorcist/possession” kind of movies that have come out over the last couple of years. Most suck, truthfully. She wants me to rent the most recent version of
The Exorcist
with all the scenes that mankind couldn’t handle in the 70s put back in. I saw the original (pardon me, I heard the original; my head was in a pillow through most of it) and I’m not sure I can manage the “new” one.

Tonight’s movie is NOT the one pictured at the top of this post, but it started out pretty good: decently freaky visuals, definitely terrifying audio… but the best stuff was in the first part of the movie, and the thing kind of turned into a stupid flick to watch if you like horror movies. We said as much to each other as the credits were rolling, when…

The bedroom door creaked. It was a loooooooong drawn-out creak, one instantly recognizable to us both, because we hear it anytime we open the door all the way to get in there, or close it half-way to hang something up on the back of the door. Needless to say, neither one of us did it; we were both sitting on the couch on the other side of the wall. Neither of the cats bother with doors unless one is closed tightly, in which case the Patchouli-Cat sits in front of it and yells at us, because she feels we should not be allowed to close doors. Sheikh just sleeps – doesn’t give a damn what side of the door he’s on.

Kyla looked at me and said, “You are going in there.”

Now, in that split second, I remembered that not ten minutes before, after going up the hall for something or other, I had come back down the hall toward the living room and noticed that the bedroom door was closed tightly. For reasons unknown, Patchouli hadn’t yelled about it, and I opened it so the cats could move back and forth again. We only ever close that door so that Sheikh can have his mushy food in peace, instead of pieces, which is what would happen if Patchouli got in there while he was eating. She would beat him up and take it from him. Patchouli has decent teeth, and Sheikh does not. Sheikh gets mushy food in the evenings. Sheikh is The King.

So I opened the door. And came back into the living room, and we watched the rest of the by now stupid movie.

So somehow, by the sound of it, the door creaked itself to the half-way open position.

I said, “I am not going in there.”

Ky said, “I’m only twelve!

Yeah? SO?!

Okay, so I didn’t say that. I made her turn the lamp beside her on. The hall light was already on so we could get to the bathroom throughout the movie without running into demons that might leak out of the dvd player, and Ky tried to crane her neck around the living room door while sitting on the couch, five feet away. When that didn’t work, I decided to be brave and actually go into the hall and look. I stood up.

She said, “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” I suddenly felt much more brave.

And just then the bedroom door slammed shut.

Slammed.

Shut.

I don’t mind telling the Internet at large that I damn near shat. I’m pretty sure, when I look in the mirror (assuming I have the guts to leave this room to do so), that every hair on my head will have turned white.

And then Ky said, “Don’t say ‘hello’.”

Have you seen 28 Days Later?! Have you?! I had absolutely no intention of saying “hello”. I had absolutely no intention of doing anything other then sit back down and put my head under a pillow at that point.

I’m not sure how long it took, but I finally got the guts up to go look. Yes, the door was closed. When I got up the nerve to open it, the bedroom light was on (yes, I suppose I could have left it on.). There was a sleeping cat on each bed. The window was open (very slight breeze), and I said, “It was the wind.” Like I really believe it was the wind.

Kyla felt much better though, laughed it off, and in about ten minutes, was sound asleep in her own bed.

I hope she’s still there, un-possessed, in the morning. It’s 3:26 AM and I’m never leaving this room again.

Good thing Julie taught me how to pee in a coffee cup.

Random Song-for-the-Day: “Home” – Daughtry