Monday, July 24, 2017

portland bill.

As is the usual when chatting to top design type guy (and fellow Midlands boy) Master Jamie during our monthly phone chinwags it's not long before the conversation turns to the films of Brit shag-superstar Sir Robin of Askwith and, after re-evaluating his camptastic Horror Hospital recently it wasn't long before we turned our attentions to this beauty.

Tower Of Evil (AKA Beyond the Fog, Horror of Snape Island 1972)
Dir: Jim O'Connolly
Cast: Bryant Haliday, Jill Haworth, George Coulouris, Dennis Price, Jack Watson, Candace Glendenning, Anthony Valentine, William Lucas, Anna Palk, Robin Askwith and (Mister) Derek Fowlds.


Wayne Hussey beware!

Sometime in the early seventies in a mist enshrouded studio somewhere near Shepperton, two gruff fisherman types, Hamp Gurney (Brit movie legend Watson) and his Steptoe like father, John (Coulouris), are 'sailing' - Well, swaying about whilst some poor sod throws buckets of water at them like a kids panto version of Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds The Weeping Song -  towards the notorious Snape Island.

Mooring their boat on the craggy rocks, our duo begin a search of the islands nooks and crannies, soon coming across the naked (and very dead) body of a young man.

With incredibly tight buttocks.

"Put it in me!"


Venturing inside the island’s crumbling lighthouse, they discover another - naked - corpse, this time of a headless young woman.

Don't worry tho' as they soon find her blonde bobbed head lying at the bottom of the stairs.

Unfortunately she's lying on her front so we never know if her hair was dyed or not.

Look, some of us find these things important.

John reckons that all this is a wee bit odd, so decides to head off to explore the outside toilet, leaving Hamp to stand and stare uncomfortably at the nubile dead girl sprawled across the landing.

Opening the loo door he's very surprised to find 'Confessions' star and all round cheeky chappie Robin Askwith impaled on a big spear in the corner of the room next to the toilet rolls and copy of Razzle.

Looks like Bernie Winters finally caught up with him.

His shock is short lived tho' as he's almost immediately attacked by a shit covered - and naked - Candace Glendenning wielding a huge knife.

Which if I'm honest is a fantasy I've had since I was about 14, the lucky guy.

Jumping on John's back before biting his nose she manages to stab the poor sod to death before Hamp beats her into submission with a lead pipe.

Well, it was filmed before women's lib became a thing.

"Excuse me but I have a woman's period!"


Rushed (well I assume they rush her, not leave her lying about, occasionally bonking her on the head if she wakes up, but I digress) to the mainland hospital, the girl - whose name we discover is Penelope - falls almost immediately into a coma.

With the police desperate to pin all the murders (well, not every murder ever, just the ones on the island) on her so they can all go home for tea, eminent know all and specialist in mentalism induce catatonia, Doctor Simpson (Seventies sex God, ex Raffles and the spooky voice of Dr X on the Queensryche album Operation Mindcrime, Valentine) injects Penny with a strange drug whilst flashing disco lights at her in order to discover the truth.

Slowly but surely, she begins to recall (in groovy hypnovision) the terrible events that led up to the killings, screaming hysterically as giant images of her dead pals heads fill the screen.

Meanwhile in the plush swinging London (probably) office of professional rich man and part-time cake maker Laurence Bakewell (suave superstar Price) has become obsessed by the case.

Which is unusual for Price at this point in his career seeing as he's usually obsessing over young cock but hey-ho.

But why? I hear you ask.

Well it seems that the golden spear used to pin poor Robin Askwith to the toilet door shouldn't really be on the island at all (they do give a reason but frankly I couldn't be arsed paying attention) and this fact has attracted the attention of a group of groovy archaeologists.

Who, judging by their on-screen banter are actually more interested in shagging each other senseless than digging up old stuff.

But not being an archaeologist - or a welder - who am I to judge?

So who are this motley band that will be our heroes for the remainder of the movie?

Well it consists of Antiquities experts Ben and Nora - greatest line: "Masturbation’s so boring!" - Winthrop (Ex Basil Brush sidekick Fowlds and the frighteningly large breasted Palk), along with the bubbly Rose Mason (Haworth - The original stage Sally Bowles and star of the Tom Baker travesty The Mutations) and hunk o' burning lurve Adam Martin (Aussie beefcake and star of Wild Honey Edwards) are they've decided to take a wee break from wife-swapping to investigate the case.

And, in order to placate the US market they're taking a fast talking Yank private investigator (hired by Penelope's folks) named Brent (Halliday, star of such classics as Devil Doll, Curse of the Voodoo and The Projected Man) along for the ride alongside dear old Hamp and his horny young 'nephew' Brom (the big haired and seemingly horse cocked Hamilton).

Trinny and Susannah: The Pikey years.


To make the journey go quicker (and to prevent the film having too many scenes of folk staring uncomfortably at a badly projected seascape) Brent tries to get Hamp to talk about the dark history of the island but to no avail, so decides to try his American magic on Brom.

And by magic I mean seduction skills if what transpires as a conversation is anything to go by seeing as it consists of a dozen or so muttered 'Ooh Arrs' from Brom whilst he stands legs akimbo rubbing his trouser area.

Which if I'm honest was fairly relaxing.

Finally arriving at the island (portrayed by a fairly competently constructed Lego model), the party sets up camp in the outside loo before heading out to explore the lighthouse in particular the area in which the murders took place.

Brent steadfastly believes that poor ickle Penelope couldn’t possibly have pinned a star of Askwith's girth to a door, but Ben, always the pessimist reckons that madness may have given her super strength.

After a wee chat and some bitching the party come to the conclusion that there may be a mad man loose on the island but Hamp just shrugs his shoulders and mutters 'Dunno' before heading off for a sneaky fag.

He's saved from any more embarrassing questions tho' when his boat blows up.

Whilst most of the group run outside to see if anything can be salvaged, Brom and Nora are left alone in the lighthouse where they spend an uncomfortable couple of minutes making small talk before deciding to have 'the sex'.

Roughly.

And with a bit of biting.

Just like your dad and your sisters pal in the back of the car last week.

Returning to the lighthouse to find Nora all ruddy faced and a rotting corpse stuck in the rocking chair, Brent confronts Hamp with the fact that his brother was once the lighthouse keeper.

This in itself may seem inconsequential but Brent goes on to tell how Hamp's bro' went mad and killed his wife and child!

On the island!

And they never found his body!

Back at the hospital, Penelope is being given even more drugs and bigger flashing lights and as a result her shattered memory begins to piece itself back together, beginning with her recounting the horrible facts regarding the deaths of her friends....

And it's not pleasant.

Somewhere to hang your coat at least.




What can I possibly say about Tower Of Evil that hasn't been said a thousand times before on blogs that people actually read?

I mean, if there's a better example of such a way ahead of it's time horror flick then I'd like to see it because Tower Of Evil has everything you could want from a slasher movie, nearly ten years earlier than everybody else.

Coming at a time when censorship in Britain was becoming more lax (imagine that, the UK with lenient censors), writer/director Jim (Valley of Gwanji, Vendetta for The Saint) O’Connolly fills the screen with copious amounts of nudity, sex and violence filmed in an almost tabloid, in yer face manner almost unheard of at the time.

Scream from mah mooth!


And all the well worn rules of the genre are present and correct, anyone having sex is bound to die (the teens and adults), male characters show off their buff naked arses whilst the pretty female cast members are forever thrusting their breasts towards the camera and it's the virginal good girl Penelope (the only woman in Europe who doesn’t want to get laid comments her beau) that survives.

The archaeological experts fare no better, being as they are a bunch of bed hopping sex maniacs who count a bag of spliffs and a crate of cheap red wine amongst the essentials for their expedition, splitting up at the first sign of trouble to wander around the island dressed in mini skirts, breast revealing tops and sprayed on action-slacks.


"Aye son!"



Simply put, Tower of Evil is quite honestly a work of utter genius which needs, nay demands to be seen by as wide an audience as possible.

So there.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

holy crossovers!

On this day way back in 1978 I witnessed the greatest entertainment extravaganza ever the likes of which we'll never see again.

 Unless Ben Affleck gets really desperate obviously.



Monday, July 17, 2017

dad of the dead.


George A. Romero
4 February 1940 - 16 July 2017
"Stay scared!"

Sunday, July 16, 2017

who?

Today's the day Auntie Beeb announce the new Doctor Who* and there's only one man it can be!

Welcome aboard David Burton!















*And before anyone complains his name is Doctor Who.....look:


Saturday, July 15, 2017

people you fancy but shouldn't (part 72).


With Game of Thrones returning this week there's only one person it could be.

By popular demand we give you....

Maisie Williams.

Nuff said.










































*Can I just point out that there's been at least one reader requesting this since GoT season one......and to them can I just say please stop messaging me now you sick puppy.

mummy's boy.

Time Walker (AKA Being from Another Planet, 1982).
Dir: Tom Kennedy.
Cast: Ben Murphy, Nina Axelrod, Kevin Brophy, James Karen, Robert Random, Austin Stoker, Darwin Joston, Antoinette Bower, Sam Chew Jr., Clint Young, Shari Belafonte and Jack Olson.


“Well, maybe you’ve found the first civilization to use polyester?”



Somewhere in Egypt (OK I'll be honest it's actually a set left over from Tales of The Gold Monkey and by set I mean empty studio lot with a bit of sand randomly sprinkled over it) the sexily double-denimed science guy Professor Douglas McCadden (Alias Smith And Jones star Murphy) has just come across the tomb of the ancient Egyptian king Tutankhamun.

Unfortunately his excited thigh rubbing at the thought of all that pharaoh gold causes a minor earthquake making one of the tomb walls collapse - well it was only shoddily nailed up balsa wood - revealing a hidden chamber containing  a second mummy in a huge cardboard sarcophagus.
Oh hang on, it's meant to be stone.

Never mind at least they tried.

Tried to make it look utterly shite I mean, obviously the cash went on the top notch cast.

Or at the very least on Shari Belafonte's velor jacket. 

"If you're the mummy.....who's the daddy?"


Knowing that the films meager budget wont extend to any actual shooting outside the US McCadden has the mysterious sarcophagus quickly shipped back to California where hip n' happening science student Peter Sharpe (Brophy - the poor mans Michael Beck, I'll give you a minute to let that sink in) proceeds to x-ray it whilst chewing gum (and the scenery) in a provocative manner much to the chagrin of the Tefal-headed tinker in charge of the universities computers; the enigmatic Jack Parker (TV stalwart Random).

It seems that in his rush to get the x-rays complete Sharpe has accidentally set the machine to 'highly radioactive' as opposed to 'slightly radioactive' meaning that not only will the pictures come out a wee bit blurry but the folk present will all probably drop dead from cancer within a fortnight.

Which is quite possibly a blessing seeing as none of them will be around for the movies premiere.

Heading back to his lab to examine the x-rays, Sharpe notices what looks like five tiny balls arranged around the mummy's head so decides to investigate the sarcophagus himself in the hope that the mysterious objects are something worth selling.

Or at least something that may move the plot along.

Breaking into McCadden's room he skillfully cuts open the sarcophagus with a penknife and finds 5 shiny marbles embedded within.

Sorry I mean mysterious crystals filled with a strange glowing energy.

My mistake.

Quickly re-x-raying (is that even a word?) the mummy to cover his tracks Sharpe fails to notice that the extra dose of radiation has caused a strange green mold inside the sarcophagus to become active and start to spread like an evil coloured butter.

Or low fat spread if you like.

Well at least you can still enjoy a Pot Noodle.

Resealing the sarcophagus Sharpe heads over to the local pawnbrokers in the hope of scoring some ready cash to take his girlfriend out for a slap up meal little realising that it's not just the creepy mold that's moving.

Yes indeed the mummy itself is on the prowl.

With a wipe that would make George Lucas shoot his load we're into the next day where a stressed McCadden is desperately trying to persuade the university president, Wendell Rossmore (Return Of The Living Dead's Karen), to postpone the mummy's unveiling due to the nasty stink caused by the green gunk oozing out of the sarcophagus. 

Rossmore is having none of it tho' but as he excitedly ushers the press in one of McCadden's more forgettable students sticks his finger in the sarcophagus and instantly starts screaming as the gunk starts to rot his hand.

Falling to the grown and writhing in agony (or is it ecstasy?) he accidentally knocks the sarcophagus lid off revealing that its occupant has vanished.

And you know when your main monster can't be arsed appearing onscreen that your film is in big trouble.

"Balls on mah x-ray!" - sorry that was the worst caption ever but if they can't be arsed why should I?



Enter (yes please) Dr. Ken Melrose (the legend that is Stoker) who alongside his sternly school ma'am like colleague Dr. Rita Hayworth (Prom Night's Bower) desperately attempts to identify the spooky green stuff and destroy it before it can infect anyone else.

Is everyone in this movie desperate?

Rossmore being a bit of an arse assumes that the mummy's disappearance is because of a fraternity prank, however his Smithers-like sidekick Dr. Bruce Serrano (Chew Jr) insists that McCadden - alongside Parker - is responsible for the whole thing.

No idea why tho'.

Rossmore, hypnotised by Serrano's slinky hips and tight ass calls on the campus police captain Holly Willoughby (Switchblade Sisters Young) and orders him to track the pair.

Meanwhile  the mummy is busy tracking the whereabouts of the stolen crystals. The crystals, which are - it turns out -  actually complicated components of a space-age transportation device.

Yup, he's not really a mummy but an alien ambassador sent to Earth to buy cakes two thousand years hence who ended up crash landing in Egypt where
Tutankhamun came across his prone body.

Fucking Hell those Egyptians will shag anything.

Mistaking the unconscious alien for the Egyptian God of massive heads (or something), the king and his attendants tried to shake his hand but were all killed by the green slime.

Always looking on the bright side the surviving flunkey's decided to bury them all together in the King's tomb.

Phew, glad that's all sorted, we can get back to more important matters now like watch a bog-roll wrapped stuntman being wheeled around on an out of shot skateboard as he chases various no-name extras around a deserted shopping centre.

"Tonight Matthew I'm going to be Peter Gabriel!"


It's a race against time - and tedium - as our heroes try to find the crystals before the shit-handed horror does seeing as one touch from his mucky member causes instant paralysis and stubborn stains. 

After brutally attacking a single mum student who'd been given one of the crystals as a present Rossmore is forced to call the 'proper' police who send no-nonsense flatfoot Lt. Amanda Plummer (Napoleon Wilson himself Joston) is to investigate and as more students turn up dead or injured, our heroic cop begins to suspect that he's on the trail of a serial killer.

Albeit one covered head to toe in Andrex.

Maybe they should just send a puppy after him?

As is always the way in this kind of movie (and I'd be disappointed if it weren't), the students decide that the best way to deal with the on campus killings is to organise a massive mummy themed frat party and dance badly - to a song called "Mummified" on a constant loop - whilst those who actually possess the crystals end up either babysitting and taking showers in order to up the breast count of the film and help it appeal to sad, lonely teens.

Well seeing as I first saw this as a 12 year old it must have worked.

As Plummer conducts his investigation, McCadden and Parker track the stolen crystals back to Sharpe, who admits to everything before giving them the  crystal he was keeping for himself.

Realising that the final crystal is currently in the hands of a student he's shagging (Motel Hell's Axelrod), McCadden races to the library in the hope of saving her from a sticky end only arriving in time to see her plummet from the roof.

Luckily she's only bruised so our hero wastes no time in getting on with the job at hand which right now involves investigating why the campus computer systems are showing sporadic energy drains in the large broom cupboard behind the girls toilets.

Fuck me Hanson have let themselves go.


As the movie lurches drunkenly toward its climax, McCadden, Parker, Rossmore, Serrano and Willoughby all descend on the cupboard at the same time and after a bit of pushing and shoving are fairly surprised to see the mummy standing over what looks like a novelty pie dish fiddling with some small balls.

Like some kind of intergalactic naughts and crosses he gently places them in a certain order (being careful not to break the flimsy prop) before activating the device causing his mummy wrappings disintegrate and revealing his true form.

That of a fairly camp skinny bloke in a pound shop alien mask.

Takes all sorts.

Realising that the creature actually doesn't mean any harm and just wants to go home McCadden and Parker smile waving at it as it prepares to leave, Serrano tho' has other ideas and orders Willoughby to shoot the creature.

The rotter.

Being the hero tho' McCadden throws himself in front of the bullet in order to protect the alien and falls to the ground injured.

As the pair gaze lovingly into each others eyes the alien holds his (scarily lady-like) hand out to the professor who eagerly takes it.

Tho' not up the arse I'm told.

As the starstruck couple touch there's a blinding light as they disappear from view leaving only a solitary crystal lying on the floor.....

Serrano pushes everyone aside and grabs for it but suddenly drops it with a scream as the fungus begins to infect his hand and the words "TO BE CONTINUED" flash up on the screen.

No, really.


Hmmmm.....titles.



Lurching drunkenly 'tween slasher movie, Sci-Fi and kooky campus caper, Tom Kennedy's only foray into directing (after a career working as an editor) is a threadbare throwback with a TV movie of the week feel and whilst it's in no way that bad a movie it is a horribly inept one, which is scary considering its pedigree, featuring as it does such luminaries as Nina Axelrod, James Karen, Shari Belafonte (riffing Adrienne Barbeau in The Fog as a sexy DJ) and most bizarrely one Warrington Gillette, who went on to play the unmasked Jason Voorhees in Friday 13th Part 2.

Hopefully with make up tho'.

The rest of this cast of has beens, might be's and ne'er wills isn't too bad either with appearances from Greta (Chained Heat) Blackburn, Kevin (Hell Night) Brophy, Melissa (Invasion: USA) Prophet as well as  Antoinette Bower from that episode of Star Trek with the huge kitten.

But most importantly it features a (brief) re-teaming of Assault On Precinct 13's Austin Stoker and Darwin Joston which frankly makes the film worth owning for that alone.


"Laugh now!"


Behind the scenes it has Flesh Gordon's Jason WIlliams as co-writer and producer plus cult composer Richard Band on soundtrack duty whilst the majority of the crew were straight off the back of that monster hit The Howling and no doubt the producers were hoping for as big (if not a bigger) hit.

Oh well.

"Oh no! I have my womans period!"


Coming across like the idiot offspring of Kolchak or a lobotomized X Files, Time Walker never hits the dizzy heights (or shites) of The Incredible Melting Man or even Hangar 18 but is fairly inoffensively enjoyable in it's own albeit moldy way.


Plus you can picked it up on Amazon for a measly eleven quid on a shiny DVD that also features Lady Frankenstein, The Velvet Vampire and Grotesque (not that one) so what's not to love?


I mean you couldn't even get a quick handjob for that kinda cash.


And no your sister doesn't count.


Recommended viewing.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

little big planet.

Ended up getting a commission to do a poster for this a few months back (don't ask) so thought I'd rewatch it.


Will I never learn?


The Sinful Dwarf (1973)
Dir: Vidal Raski.
Cast: Torben Bille, Tony Eades, Anne Sparrow, Clara Keller, Werner Hedman and a load of other folk that frankly it's not worth listing. I mean they don't have this on their CVs so why should I make the effort?

Hvad var den mystiske dværgs perverse hemmelighed?



A hot summers day and a pig-tailed (and let's be honest slightly pig-nosed) young girl is happily playing hopscotch in a quiet street, not a care in the world and a warm smile on her freckled face.

Rounding a corner she comes across a dwarf (the late great Bille who at the time was Denmark's only profession dwarf actor) leading a yapping toy dog, Intrigued she bends down to pet it.

The toy dog that is not the dwarf.

"Hello pretty lady, I'm Olaf!" grins the dwarf in a friendly manner "Do you like my toy? I have many more upstairs in my house!" and with that he takes her by the hand and leads her to the run down boarding house he manages with his mother.

The girl is amazed at the amount of wonderful (re: creepy) toys spread out before her and turns to congratulate Olaf on his collection but as she does the evil little fella smashes her in the head with his walking stick.


We've all been there.

"Grine nu!"


Cue frighteningly 70s titles and compulsory inappropriate theme tune (more on these later) and we're on with the plot good and proper, being quickly introduced to a pair of down on their luck lovebirds; the flasher-macked 'writer' Peter (Eades, bizarrely enough last seen in the Danish/Indian musical drama The Melody of Love alongside Pavel Kadochnikov's granddaughter Nina Bergman - beat that Kermode) and posh tottie Mary (Sparrow, mother of Jack the famous pirate) who arrive at the boarding house looking for a place to stay.

Greeted at the door - as opposed to in the mooth - by Olaf's even freakier (if that were possible, which it is obviously or that last sentence wouldn't make sense) mother, the show tune singing, gin soaked, piss smelling lush that is Ms. Lila Lash (the genius that is Keller in her only film role outside your dad's home movies) the couple are quickly shown to their room (a bargain at 6 quid a week).


Excited at the thought of finally getting to sleep in a real bed - rather than under a bush - neither of them notice Ms. Lash licking her (hair) lip and eying up Mary's ample arse (with her none milky eye) as the enter the room.

You see it turns out that behind the Fawlty Towers-esque facade, Olaf and his mentalist mum are kidnapping nubile young girls and running a white slavery sex ring out the attic.


And a secret lemonade mine in the cellar.


But to be honest judging by the reactions of those poor half dressed (and half cut) girls they have chained up this may all be normal in Denmark.


Answers to the normal email address.


"Er det en blyant i lommen eller har du en massiv erektion?"



Olaf's main job (apart from luring the girls to the house and using a Curly Wurly bar as a ladder when he's cleaning the TV obviously) appears to be injecting pure heroin into the victims buttocks whilst screaming “I’m coming girls! I’m coming” with a huge dribbling grin on his face.

Whilst all this drugging and shagging is going on, Olaf's mother amuses herself by staggering about with a bowl of plastic fruit on her head pretending to be Carmen Miranda.

To be honest this is one of the few films that has ever made me miss living with my parents.

"Shite i måneden fæstet!"

Obviously the director reckoned that all this just wasn't scary enough and in a masterstroke introduces us to a fish-lipped piss stained drugs dealer named Santa Claus (former cinematographer and production manager Hedman) who delivers the drugs inside stuffed animals.


And this is why folk voted Brexit.


Peter and Mary tho' are oblivious to all this, being too busy thrusting and wriggling on top of each other in a very energetic manner to notice the sounds of sobbing and smell of vinegar and shame emanating from the attic.

And when Peter gets himself a job leaving Mary home alone with Olaf and Lila
little does she suspect that she is next on their list of tanked up tottie to be....



As far as short arsed cinema classics go, The Sinful Dwarf is up there (but not too high obviously) with the best.

One of the strangest (and undoubtedly one of the sleaziest) of a small sub-genre of deadly dwarf movies this UK/Danish (with possible US backing too possibly) co-production feels like a weird hybrid of slasher movie, exploitation cheapie, European arthouse and dodgy porn film that's been forced into a rusty old sausage maker, minced and squeezed out onto a filthy, chipped plate before being served up by a club-footed hook-handed harlot with bad breath and breasts like cheese filled condoms.


From it's shocking, head bashing opening thru it's unsettling titles (consisting, as they do of close-ups of wind up toys tottering around gaudy lettering as Danish avant garde composer Ole Ørsted mixes the sound of a troupe of clockwork monkeys banging drums and smashing cymbals with a bass guitar *), The Sinful Dwarf delivers shocks and sleaze by the (scuzzy) bucketful, leaving the audience in need of a good bath and a gallon of mouthwash.

Honestly, it's THAT good a movie.



"Is it in yet?"

And what of the ‘sinful' dwarf himself?

Sporting a greasy moptop, a huge tombstone grin and (very) kissy lips, Torben Bille is truly magnificent. Hobbling around and lusting over anything with breasts, his 'unique' lisping delivering of his English dialogue is a masterclass in villainy, coming across like the bastard son of Don Estelle and Jimmy Krankie on crack, trapped in an endless summer season review in Torquay.


Plus when you realize that he and Anne Sparrow were actually a couple during filming the whole scummy, spanked arseness of the proceedings take on an even more sleazy - and slightly more erotic if I'm honest - turn.

Full of 'wah wah' guitars and close-ups of sagging, old men arses thrusting up and down on drugged up, dirt covered girls this is one of those rare films that genuinely does have something for everyone and not even hatchet man Vidal Raski’s lacklustre direction can ruin it.

Essential viewing for the whole family.

But especially your Uncle Peter.








*And you can hear it here.

my recurring dream...




Tuesday, July 11, 2017

beale gone kid.

A wee break from all the film based shenanigans I usually post in order to share this word of warning I received via e-mail last week.



Enjoy.


Dear Ashton,

You know Gillian Taylforth? best known for her role as Kathy Beale in EastEnders and as Jackie Pascoe-Webb in Footballers' Wives?

Blood Witch.

And a really, really powerful one at that.

And she now has my scent.

A few months back I accidentally smeared a bit of blood on a signed postcard of her I received from the BBC many years back and my life has been a living hell since.

She's started projecting herself into my dreams and talking to me telepathically....it feels like my energy has been drained and my life is slowly being ruined.

When you see her interviewed she acts all sweetness and light, convincing the viewers that she isn't a flesh-eating she-demon who sees us all as little more than cattle to be fed off.

All I can do is warn you to NEVER speak to her or to attempt to contact her telepathically. Especially if like me you have high sexual energy levels and are really good at magic.

Real magic I mean not the card game.

Though that probably means you're quite powerful too.

This warning is for you and your readers, seriously the bitch almost got me killed and has sent psychic assassins after me several times.

Heed my words.

Oh and by the way I think It Follows was shit too. 



Saturday, July 1, 2017

adventures in sound.

Celebrate the genius that is Peter Capaldi's Doctor with a masterful mix of Cyber samples, Bok beats and Terrifying Terileptil tunes.