Alternate title: The Cheesy Gordita Crunch stands alone.
Always knew there was something about this kid I liked.
I mean, with friends like Harry and Marv, who wouldn’t want to be alone during the holidays? Amiright? Also, with friends like Taco Bell, who needs real friends anyway?
A few months ago, my friend Brandon from back in the day (and I mean way back in the day when I was making crappy websites about dumb anime amongst other embarrassing mistakes of childhood) asked me to contribute to his ongoing revisionist movie poster project, the Silver Screen Society. Each month, they choose a film and select a handful of graphic designers, illustrators and otherwise artsy fartsy types to come up with a piece inspired by the movie. That’s more or less the only rule of this particular Fight Club. In any case, this month they selected a feature quite close to my rotting, festering heart, George Romero and Stephen King’s Creepshow.
Needless to say, my piece won’t make any sense to you whatsoever if you haven’t seen the movie.
And if you haven’t seen it, I’d say that’s a pretty good homework assignment for you to dig into this weekend. The best part is, this is the kind of homework you can do while drinking crisp microbrews with your pals, in fact, that’s the recommended dosage.
The film resides in the great intersection of camp, comic book, and comedy. It’s hyper-stylized, classically creepy in a way that any fan of horror and 80s slop will absolutely love, and full of talented cameos, from Leslie Nielsen and Ted Danson to Stephen King himself. What did I tell you? I hold this one pretty close to the gaping, slime-dripping bone cage that is my chest cavity.
The trailer alone is probably the coolest thing I’ll watch today, come to think of it.
Be sure to check out all the other great pieces over at Silver Screen’s website.
Ladies and gentlegerms, meet Billy the Big Mouth Bass. Billy used to be a cultural icon of gloriously irritating kitch. But as his prominence in our stinking pop culture stew faded over the years, Billy turned to partying to fill the void in his animatronic heart. Wild partying turned more desperate over the years as Billy slipped into a nightmarish cycle of addiction and withdrawal, only finding solace at last in the teachings of the Dark Lord, Satan.
Somewhere along the line, Billy also had a string of plastic surgeries to alter his appearance to more closely resemble that of a rainbow trout, but that’s neither here nor there. What we can say, however, is that what was once a notorious and hideous Secret Santa gift, often relegated to the dark corners of over-crowded garages and attics, has now become quite possibly the funniest fucking thing I’ve seen in quite some time. Oh Billy, you may have lost the will to live, but you certainly haven’t lost your demonic charm.
There are probably a fairly limited number of you who are going to actually care about what I’m about to show you, but it’s my blog, and I’ll bore you all to tears if I want to. I was going to say “bore you all to death,” but I already beat one murder charge, and I’m not about to go through that hassle again. Such a nightmare.
In any case, if you know me, you know I’m not much for psychotropic drugs. Personally, the problem with smoking dope is not so much that it’s illegal, it’s that it’s just plain immoral. You know what my mother used to call marijuana? The Devil’s Pubic Hair. And if your pubic hair looked like that, you wouldn’t want to smoke it, so why are you going to smoke his? It made a lot of sense.
Nonetheless, there are some particularly creative potheads out there, despite their significant character flaws, and some of them are cooking up some pretty entertaining ways to get baked! Check out these incredible glass pipes by Hedcraft, dealers of custom smokeware and who knows what else.
Just like the Piranha Plants from whence this piece was inspired, dabble with this guy too much and you’re going to be losing some major coin.
The Force is strong with this one, but this Sour Diesel is much stronger, yes?
And that lightsaber poker is just fucking dope, no shamefully obvious drug-related pun intended.
Look, I’m just going to say what we’re all thinking here. Hmm… cookies.
All of this fine paraphernalia can be acquired at Hedcraft’s etsy store, unsurprisingly, considering that’s where all the hippies go to sell their moonstone bracelets and hand-painted power crystals and whatnot.
H-hello? Is anybody out there? We’ll see, I guess.
So, I’ve been quite delinquent in my blogging responsibilities ever since I moved out of New York, but Dedleg has nevertheless been on my mind. I suppose I’d been avoiding the little guy, because I was embarrassed and ashamed about being such a bad friend. But we’re still besties, don’t you worry, and I’m going to try to give this heaping pile of free association and creative wind-breaking a little more attention from now on.
Of course, I make this oath to be somewhat more productive knowing full well that I’m moving again at the end of the month. Don’t get too excited — I’m not going back to New York. Not yet anyway. I signed an 8-month lease on the top floor of a cool hideout in Northampton, MA, a whopping 5 minutes down the road from where I’ve been crashing the past couple months.
My brother’s home is nice and all, but… come on, it’s not exactly a hideout, and do you really think Dedleg deserves anything less? I’m the harbinger of death on four wheels, a shadow in a dark room, I’m no mere apartment dweller. I’m more of a castle-in-the-sky type, you know? Anyway, I didn’t quite land a castle, what with my limited income and all, but I did manage to score a place with a balcony.
Anyway, the other day I took a little walk around the neighborhood so you can see where I’m staying. It’s a little rough around the edges, but hey, it’s home.