Finally, a cartoon that explains the fear of dying

Fears of the Dark, if you can find it somewhere, anywhere, borrow it from Satan himself, you must watch it. And then lend it to me.



I know that this clip is probably not the creepiest the film has to offer, but that whole foreign language thing just makes me look so smart.

Midnight movies at home

So true to my word, I went home and watched Clownhouse.  It was kinda meh, escaped lunatics in clown make-up.  M got really into it.  Anyway the highlight of my movie watchin' evening was finally watching Dolls, I movie I've been dying to watch since I first saw at the scuzzy video rental place near my parents home.  This is that cover, the one that enchanted me so,

I wanted to see it so badly.  Anyway after watching it the other night, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the little girl me would have adored this movie.  Not only does the little girl, Judy, have the ability to reason with the dolls, who want to protect her, it also features two very cute 1980s punk girls, which during my childhood (and my adulthood) I think is sooo cool.  Too bad they're like the first to get killed.  *sigh*

While fucking around on YouTube...

I discovered a campy 1980s horror movie that I had never heard of before, Clownhouse.  WTF?  I thought I had a decent working knowledge of crappy horror movies, but apparently not.  My confidence is deeply shaken, but at least I know what I'll be watching when I get home tonight.  And for free, thanks to YouTube. 

 Apparently it was nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance, it was made '89( I was seven), and its directed by the guy who did Jeepers Creepers ( which I really liked, alot). How did I not know of this?!

Anxiety on the rise

Eeekk!  I can feel it, anxiety, creeping up down my spine like a mouse, or maybe it's more like the Tingler(from the Tingler starring Vincent Price)  Anyway, I've found a piece a of poetry to describe how I feel, or who I empathize with at the moment;

"Hickory Dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock,
The clock struck one
The mouse ran down,
Hickory Dickory dock.

Hickory Dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock,
The clock struck two
And down he flew,
Hickory Dickory dock.

Hickory Dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock,
The clock struck three
And he did flee,
Hickory Dickory dock.

Hickory Dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock,
The clock struck four,
He hit the floor,
Hickory Dickory dock.

Hickory Dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock,
The clock struck five,
The mouse took a dive,
Hickory Dickory dock.

Hickory Dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock,
The clock struck six,
That mouse, he split,
Hickory Dickory dock.

Hickory Dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock,
The clock struck seven,
8, 9, 10, 11,
Hickory Dickory dock.

Hickory Dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock,
As twelve bells rang,
The mousie sprang,
Hickory Dickory dock.

Hickory Dickory dock,
"Why scamper?" asked the clock,
"You scare me so
I have to go!
Hickory Dickory dock."

That poor mouse, he needs some Valium, or Xanax, or wine to halt his obsessive, nerve wracking behavior.

I've got another X-mas party to attend!

This one is for M's work. She has promised to introduce me as her wife/partner to her coworkers. Some of them already know about me, some have actually seen me, but the rest know of me only as her roommate.
Anyway, I feel like a debutante. But what's a girl to wear? Its supposed to be dressy, so which dress do I wear? Black or cream? Sleeves or no sleeves? Long or short? Right now I'm leaning toward my longer, flapper style dress, with very high heels, since her supervisors will be there... but I'm not sure. Any suggestions dear readers( and by readers I mean M and E, my only two readers)?

Quote of the Day!/Reasons not to move to Canada

"I will wait to find the right man or men who'd be willing to have me on their dinner table..." said accused killer Sydney Teerhuis. This is a really odd case, compared to all the normal murder cases I guess. Click on Sydney's name to read the article.
Canada is apparently packed with psychos. Sure, you're less likely to get shot, but if that means getting stabbed to death in a bus, I'll take random shootings any day of the week. Wait, no...ummm...no. Did I just jinx myself?

Current mood, in song!

I can't seem to face up to the facts
I'm tense and nervous and I
Can't relax
I cant sleep 'cause my bed's on fire
Dont touch me, I'm a real live wire

Psycho killer
Quest que cest
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away
Psycho killer
Quest que cest
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away

You start a conversation you cant even finish it.
You're talkin' a lot, but you're not sayin anything.
When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed.
Say something once, why say it again?

Psycho killer,
Quest que cest
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away
Psycho killer
Quest que cest
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away

(* spoken interlude in french *)

Psycho killer,
Quest que cest
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away
Psycho killer,
Quest que cest
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh....

I would like to thank my meds

I woke up late today, 7:50ish.  I'm supposed to be at work at 8AM.  Without the aid of the many pills that are slowly/rapidly changing my brain chemistry, I made it to work without bursting into tears.  That really would not have been possible without all the sedatives and mood stabilizers.  The best part is that I got dressed(including some make-up), caught the bus, got in the office about 8:20ish and was still the first person to work.  

The downside is that I kind of have to hype myself up a bit, "They're not going to fucking fire ME for being a few minutes late, I happen to be a very important cog..." Which means I'm manic-y right now, which means I'll be swinging into my panicky mode soon. Maybe my morning pill breakfast will stop that.

My wall of darkness

I've finally done it. I've gone and covered one of the walls in fabric. With wallpaper being so expensive, and being unable to summon the energy to paint, I've tacked black fabric to the walls. It's really the only obvious compromise when you think about.
It does not look goth. It kind of has an interesting haunted Victorian bordello look to it...well maybe it is a bit goth, but the Ikea furniture makes for a dynamic balance between morbid and functional sensibilities.

Nerd crack, after tech and graphic novels

So I have a stationary addiction, its real bad. I now I've gone got my friends addicted. I'm a terrible influence.
Here are the things I've acquired this week;
I got this postcard book





The postcard above has to be one of the creepiest things I've ever seen. The image of a little girl with the slogan "You'd be like Heaven to touch" comes across as just a bit ominous.


I love the asterisk, like at the bottom of the card it should read "but..." or "except when..."




I also got the "Housekeeping Book", its sort of a calendar, kind of a chore day planner ( I guess, most of it is in Korean), and monthly budget.
Here's the outside ( I know the photo quality is lousy, but its after midnight and I'm drinking)

There's also a memo section, filled with cute drawings and useful information.

How to be a Wallflower at Any Club

that's what's so nice about blogging, learning something new every week. This portion is supposed to be part of a series, "How to be a Wallflower at Any Club". Anyway, we went to Das Bunker on Friday. They have lots of places to sit and make very strong drinks.

Anyway we knew it was a goth-industrial club, so we all wore black, which also allowed us to blend into the seating. I wouldn't call that music industrial, more electro, drakwave, techno rave-y, but what do I know? I know how to be an annoying pain in the ass, that's what I know.



People watching was great. Everyone wore those platform buckle boots (think JTHM), which made us all feel very short, despite my wearing 4 inch heels. We used to go to La Plaza Salon (also to people watch), where there were mainly very recent immigrants from Central America, so I'm used to being the tallest at 5'6.

Yet another weekend trip to the ER

*sigh* yet another night spent in an emergency room/urgent care. My dear friend X, while attempting to open a window, managed to smash her hand through it. My friend E and I were sitting in the living room ( X is one of the few people I know who actually has a living room), we heard the glass shatter and a scream, but we thought she knocked over a glass or something. When we heard her say, "Fuck, my hand's been cut open and there's blood every where!", we knew intuitively, that something was wrong.
After carefully bandaging her hand in a dirty kitchen towel, we hopped in to my car and were off to spend a few hours in a dirty ER waiting room. Our only comfort was telling X that she would feel better when they cut her hand off and that she'd be a stump trend setter. Her pinky was cut the worst, but to make her feel better, I told her that if they had to amputate it we could replace it with a baby carrot.

She got seven stitches. To make up for it ( we felt it was our fault because we decided to drop by and surprise her, thus necessitating the need for an open window)we took her to In N' Out. But she had to pay for herself.