Boo. Click on me right now or die.
Speaking of “Be Prepared,” this post was pre-loaded and scheduled on October 28, to ensure you Uppityites get to enjoy it even if Uppity and Toto were carried out of Kansas in the anticipated hurricane.
Traditionally on Halloween, I do Halloween food posts. But I think that’s tapped out, mainly because how can you top a meatloaf hand, eh? Or other delectables, such as Brains In A Jar Cake or Tentacle Pot Pie or literal Finger Food or Peanut Butter Eyeball Cookies .
It’s all been done–more or less, although the options for edible eyeballs never seem to end.
So this year, I figured you might like to see the last official photo of the Father of Halloween Costumes, namely Bela Lugosi. I don’t suppose any of you will question that this is indeed the last photo of him, as in this case, they slammed the lid and it stayed down. Permanently. Far as we know, heh. He wasn’t acting. As you can see, I got these photos from one of my secret favorite places, Findadeath. If you want the real poop and scoop on famous dead people, this is the place to go. You would be shocked at just what kind of lowlife scum America worships once you see the truth about them revealed after their deaths.
Bela Lugosi died a pauper. Vampires never could hold down day jobs. You can imagine it was hard for him to find work even on the third shift, considering his image didn’t lend itself very well to normal parts once the Dracula thing got old — and his signature “Bite Your Neck” Hungarian accent did little to help the situation. He was also one Fugly guy. He almost had to be. There were no awesome special effects in movies back then. To instill fear, a movie had to rely on the Chill Factor of the Character. Still, Bela was a huge Effects advancement from the original Dracula movie, Nosferatu. Seriously, Barack Obama and Paul Ryan are scarier than Nosferatu was. I know this because, when I was a High School English teacher, I used this movie as comic relief when I taught Bram Stoker’s Dracula as an additional requirement for AP students, some of whom were already smarter than I was. I remember a moronic Vice Principal of limited Grey Matter asking me what my purpose was for distributing this book (which possessed the most advanced vocabulary EVAH). I told him my goal was to get them to…..you know….. actually want to…..read! No Monarch Notes! But mostly, I did it because it was fun. But I digress. I can do that. It’s my blog.
Bela did not have enough money in his estate to bury himself in death, and all of his caskets were actually owned by Parmount, so legend has it that Frank Sinatra paid for his funeral. No kidding.
I myself have been enjoying the quintessential Halloween experience for most of this month, thanks to the AMC Fear Fest. They are running All Halloween All The Time. I’ve seen Friday The 13th sequels, sequels to the sequels, and Sons of Sequels. I watched Michael Meyers and Jason VorHees shot up with enough bullets and sliced with enough blades to turn them into strawberry barrels, hacked,burned, plugged, stabbed, drowned – over and over and over again. But how could it be AMC Fear Fest without Stephen King, all the way back to “Dead Zone,” when Christopher Walken was like 12 years old.
Through it all, I got hooked on a series for the first time in decades: I’m talking about AMC’s The Walking Dead. Yes, that’s right……Me…the woman who never watched Seinfeld till after it hit syndication, is hooked on The Walking Dead series. I am so ashamed, but I can’t help myself. Not since **Barnabas Collins and Dark Shadows have I known such joy. We’re talking ***blood and guts and veins in your teeth and dead burnt bodies here. I admit I’m a couple of years late to this series, but AMC took care of that problem too. They ran all of seasons 1 and 2 episodes back-to-back before beginning this season’s episodes. By the time season 3 started, I was all caught up and hooked on Gruesome and Ghouls. Watching a group of the few remaining people Living On Earth, dirty, grimy, sweaty and sexy, collectively mowing down, decapitating and chopping up zombies without so much as a slight gag reflex — and then shrugging and moving on — is just too much for me to resist. This practically makes me a member of a cult.
To enhance my embarrassment with myself, AMC continually played snippets from a song between segments that I fell in love with. I mean this song had me moving and singing along, even though I didn’t connect all the lyrics. This song was hot, I mean hot as in, but for menopause, I would have probably reproduced to this song. It put me into a serious horizontal, bone-jumping mood. So…… Being Me, I simply had to go find this song on the youtubes so I could capture it and Hippy groove to it whenever I wanted to. Of course, I succeeded. And once I was able to listen to the whole thing, I was horrified at myself that I still loved the arrangement after I deciphered the lyrics and acquired the title: Kill Of The Night.
Let’s put it this way, boyz: If you are on a first date with a woman and she tells you she loves this song, please understand that you are going to die tonight. I bring you the Ultimate Halloween Song:
If none of this entertains you, then how about watching Stephen King’s Needful Things tonight, for a creepy, back of your neck tingle? I tried to find The Shining, but all I could get at the youtubes was the TV adaptation, sans Jack Nicholson. I mean if it isn’t going to be Jack saying,” Here’sssssssssss Johnnyyyyyyyy!!!!!!,” what’s the point? So, here’s Needful Things in 8 parts. You’re welcome.
Or if you would like to see how they did Fear back when there were no computerized special effects, while amusing yourself over how men and women were allowed to interact and behave in 1936, here’s the original Death Takes A Holiday. Here was a fragile woman (weren’t they all–except for Kate Hepburn?) who dared to look for More. And boy did she get it. But when you’re hot, your hot!
Please note that there was a 1971 remake of this movie that is a great comparison of how far women had come since 1936. Until of course now. You can see that version here.
**RIP Barnabas. I wanted to have sex with you and Quentin.
*Boo Kitty, along with some other awesome gifs by some very creative people, was found here. Not to credit these brilliant “Giffers” would be a felony in my mind.
***Credit to Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant Massacre narrative.
Filed under: Uncategorized |