Cover, and sympathy for a murderer
As is blatantly obvious by now, I’m a huge Jack Ketchum fan. I’m going through everything the man has written, in the same way as a teenager I voraciously flipped through the pages of Stephen King. Once I latch onto a writer, I dig in and try to read everything they have to offer. I’m the same way with directors.
So, a year ago I read Cover. You might wonder, well, why the delay on a review of it then? Well, I’ll tell you, you nosy son of a bitch, and by the way, if you think you can do any better, I’d like to see you…
Because I’m an epic procrastinator. But, most importantly, I love this book. Often, when faced with something I truly love, I don’t want to review it. I feel like I won’t be able to do the work justice. Same reason I’ve yet to write a review for my favorite book, The Talisman, by Stephen King and Peter Straub. I don’t want to half-ass it, and make these great works sound anything less than what they are.
Enough self-indulgence. Here is why Cover by Jack Ketchum is one of the single best books ever written.
It makes you feel sorry for a man who kills innocent people.
(Side note, the one sentence paragraph thing, yeah, it’s a Ketchum staple, and every time I do it, I’m paying homage to his style. And or ripping him off, whichever you prefer. The incomplete sentences are mostly me. When I abuse semi-colons, I’m paying homage/ripping off King; let’s face it, this whole parenthetical pause is a King homage/ rip off also. If I ever use gibbous or eldritch, well, take a wild guess with that one. Hey, you gotta start somewhere.)
All you really need to know about the plot, is that it involves a Vietnam vet, who has terrible PTS, and flashbacks. As a result, he has to live in the woods, his wife and child are forced to leave him, and he has to work as a Marijuana farmer. He’s so out of it, he can’t work with regular people, as when he goes into flashback mode, he hurts people.
Your heart will bleed for this guy, Lee. The woods are his home, and all he has left is his dog. Some unlucky campers decide to camp out in Lee’s woods. Lee goes into flashback mode, and suddenly these regular people become the Viet Cong to Lee. And trust me, you don’t want to mess with Lee when he’s in war mode.
One of the campers is a female body builder, or for whatever reason, the lady is jacked. This was perhaps the only part of the book I found to if not detract from the novel, at least make it a little odd. I mean, it’s nice to have an atypical female character, but it was just kind of like…okay, so she’s really strong…cooool.
It takes a writer skilled in handling complex emotional landscapes to make a murderer, even one with flashbacks he can’t control, seem sympathetic. Yet, Ketchum does this with ease. You find yourself feeling sorry not only for the people Lee kills, but for Lee himself. You actually feel bad for the guy who is killing innocent campers with booby traps!
This is one of Ketchum’s lesser known books, and that needs to change. Do yourself a favor, and track down a copy of this book, especially if you are interested in PTS, and war vets. It’s heartbreaking, nerve-wracking, and powerful until the last page.
Topics: Reviews | No Comments »
RUINATION: Millenium episode “Pilot”
It’s back, after…shit has it really been almost a year? Truth told, it’s because these things are a real bitch to write. Also, I am a master of procrastination. I’ve got all sorts of movies to review I haven’t bothered with, and the self publishing probably won’t actually begin until something absurd like 2014.
So, to recap, here’s what these RUINATION posts are. I watch a show, and take notes. That’s it. It would probably be easier if you watched the episode, as otherwise you won’t know what I’m directly referencing. But, it’s not entirely necessary.
In the mean time…
Its time to ruin what I love.
So right away, we have strippers. And Rob Zombie. But, it isn’t a Rob Zombie film. Thank Bejebus.
These dancers are pretty jacked. I never noticed that when I watched this in 1996, at the tender age of… 12, holy fuck balls, I watched this at 12?!
And here comes the crazy. And the NIN. This soundtrack is so 90′s. Where are my huge baggy pants, my can of Surge, and my chili cheese fries from Flamers (are those still in malls?).
Walls are bleeding again, great, now the clean up guy has to clean up blood, and splooge.
Quick cuts of this blondie dancing in fire. Hawt. Ugh, such a creepy shot, this dude with just his weird, scarred face and mouth, talking about this woman in a lake of fire.
Mom, I’d like you to meet my new boyfriend. Isn’t he dreamy?
Well, I’m done with this, tune in next year when…kidding.
The theme song to Millenium is great. Mark Snow, you done done it again.
Who cares? Really, it’s so 90s.
It’s Frank and fam in the car.
Oh Frank, you had it painted. But why yellow Frank?
Frank, can you come here. There’s something up here. It’s smooches. Got ya.
This is sweet. Too bad I know where this episode takes a turn to.
Howdy neighbor! Oh, Seattle, this is even more 90s now!
Frank’s a consultor. He consults investigators, on where the rest of the body parts went. Oh, wrinkle face, I love ya.
Hahaha, red sweater man, haha.
And welcome to Seattle, where all is rain and misery. Where’s Soundgarden at?
You’re the guy who caught the guy. You know, that guy!
Yes, someone did want more than a peep. Someone wanted a peep show dancer, in Hell.
Frank wants to see the body, reow.
Okay, really, Henriksen says Frank wasn’t supposed to be psychic, but then, how the shit did he guess all these things about the murder victim, knowing nothing about the killer. This show wants me to think Frank is psychic. Sounds like a Chris Carter influence there.
It’s really dark in this building.
And we are back to Rob Zombie. Is that all they strip to NIN and Zombie?
Okay, wait, Portishead? Kind of a big leap.
Rectitude, big word. Weird way to question someone, at the peep show. I wonder, did he pay for this?
French poetry for the peep show girls. Oh hoh hoh, wee wee, le dancing girl!
Okay, so he sees them with they eyes sowed up. Interesting. Seems like a nice, well adjusted dude.
Remind me not to party with ol’ hallucinating constipation face over here.
This is the darkest show ever. Somehow darker than The X-Files. They must have lit this with a light off a swiss army knife.
Yes, drag that body, you can do it.
Now shove him in your plastic lined trunk. Very good! You’re doing it, all by yourself!
It’s like the score is howling. Pretty unsettling.
Back to the yella house.
Frank, we found the body. We know how the dead turn you on so, so we figured you’d be the first we called.
Police walkie-talkie chatter, more police walkie-talkie chatter.
Decapitated, and set on fire? Talk about overkill.
Aw, you went all the way there, and you don’t even want to see the body, Frankie?
Man, it’s really effective when they do the quick cuts to Frank’s murder visions.
Oh man, is this the buried coffin? This scene traumatized me so much.
I should do a Traumafession on this.
Oh, wait, false alarm, they find the full coffin buried later on, that’s right.
18:27, we get our first mention of another guy from the Millenium group, named Watts. I love Watts. Frank mentions Millenium group earlier, but now we finally get to hear about it some more. Which would make sense, since the show isn’t just called Seattle Homicide Detective and Frank Black…the show. Frank Black is also the name of the lead singer of The Pixies. That is probably unrelated.
His guys want to know why you here, Frank? Other than the fact that you masturbate over the dead.
Back to the yella house. Parked his red Jeep, and hey, it’s Peter Watts.
Now that’s a mustache.
Victim may have scratched or bit the killer. Kinky.
Yup, this is what a 12 year old lives to watch. Thank you Fox network in the 90s.
Oh Frank’s wife, you nag. Nag nag nag.
22 minutes in, and we finally get to see Frank’s office. And also, his hilariously outdated computer and TV. Ah, back in the time of VHS.
Look Frank is taking notes, while I’m taking notes about Frank taking notes.
Trippy.
Cruising in the park needs to be stopped. As do killers who cruise the cruisers in the park. That movie Cruising with Al Pacino is funny.
Cruising
Chase scene in the dark woods. Now, it has led to the bridge. Cars smash. Frank runs over the cars.
He jumped, off of the side. Yet somehow, he grabbed onto the bottom of the bridge. Hmm. Yeah, not at that angle, that’s not possible.
Now, we have a pow wow with Frank and the rest of the force. Peste means plague. Something about Nostradamus.
Now Frank is a teacher. The killer is confused about his sexuality. Starting to sound like Cruising again.
So he becomes capability. Hmm. But how does he know exactly what the killer would see, unless he has prior knowledge of the man. He was having visions before he even learned about the killer. One heck of a guesser.
Jebus, and now his daughter has a seizure. Someone needs some Xanax.
Way to freak out your wife Frank. Just randomly go “he’s taking blood”, and then go “the killer, he’s got more bodies, buried alive.” Yup, pretty sure his wife is regretting her no secrets policy now.
Oh goody, here comes one of the most traumatizing scenes from my childhood memories!
Wow, so why can’t you just find a way around the river, Frank? Sheesh, I would hate Frank too if I was one of these cops he drags out at who knows what late hour to find a damn body. Yeah, just go through this freezing cold river, we don’t have time to go around! Pushy bastard.
Oh man, the screams from the coffin are so bad. Those muffled screams, yikes.
And then there’s this delightful nightmare fuel.
Attention Kindertrauma, got a new post coming your way, haha.
Oh man, I forgot about the severed head in there with him.
Haha, if anything, it is even more disturbing than I remember!
Oh, and there may be other people buried alive in coffins around this dude. They found two more, out in the same woods, but both were empty. And he was taking blood from the victims. No wonder you have so many wrinkles, Frank.
Oh, and we find out Frank had a serial killer stalking his family, taking pictures of them (Poloroids, for those who remember those).
And the funny part is, this sicko works in a blood lab.
Jesus, when this dude knocks the body onto Frank and shouts “the thousand years is over!” and then tries to stab him, but hits the body instead.
How did they ever get this on the air. Seriously?!
This guy makes some of the dudes from my Favorite X-Files about Serial Killers list look positively bubbly!
X-Files Killers
And wacko gets shot by Detective Bob.
Famous last words by killer…
“You can’t stop it.”
And we’re back to the yella house.
Oh right, Frank bought a puppy. Who cares about sadistic, bible-thumping, sexually confused serial killers, that bury people alive with their eyes and mouths sown up, we have a puppy!
And the pictures of his family are sent to Frank again. Poor Frank.
SUMMATION:
Have fun walking the streets after watching this one.
Topics: RUINATION | No Comments »
Screwed Up Screenshots: In Honor of Women in Horror Month…2
Topics: Screwed Up Screenshots | No Comments »
Fear the Familiar
We’ve received two Fatal Pictures shorts so far to review, and each has squirmed their way into our little black heart. And so, it is with great pleasure we’d like to discuss Familiar.
This time around, we meet John Dodd, which we can only assume is the brother of Geoffrey Oswald Dodd from the Fatal Pictures short Worm.
John, played by Robert Nolan, is a regular Joe Dad type, except once again, in typical Richard Powell (writer and director) fashion, dude got an inner monologue that’s downright vicious and vindictive.
The monolugues are cringe-worthy, and shine as obsidian little shards of dark brilliance. Yet again, the dialogue is completely normal, boring even, much like in Worm, which makes the evil inner thoughts all the more scandalous. The complete normalcy portrayed by John’s teenage daughter Jordan (Cathryn Hostick) and his wife Charlotte (Astrida Auza) work to amp up the tension. You just want to scream at them, run now!
Familiar enters into the realm of biological horror, in tried and true Cronenbergian fashion. Special effects are intriguing, and almost seem at times to enter Bottin from John Carpenter’s The Thing territory, and or Baker from Videodrome style.
We’d be remiss if we neglected to mention our one point of conflict with the film. Namely, the transition from it being a psychological horror film, to a body horror film, doesn’t seem as smooth as the rest of the proceedings. But, once you get over the gap, things tighten up again, like some kind of cinematic vaginal rejuvenation surgery.
A good horror short should be like a mugging. It swoops in, puts you into peril, then leaves just as quickly as it came. You’re left shaking and dazed, unsure of the reality of what has just occurred. Familiar does this, but also somehow manages a slow burn, which is impressive for something under a half an hour.
Masterful, meticulous, and shocking, Familiar is anything but for horror fans.
Topics: Reviews | No Comments »
A Personal Revelation: Never Dictate The Length of Your Writing Ahead of Time
Had one of those eye-openers just now. Every story I’ve crapped-the-bed on has been a piece I’ve dictated the length of ahead of time. Two novellas are unfinished, and stopped after about the five to fifteen page mark. And it was only just earlier, while I was thinking of the novellas I’ve never followed through on, that I realized why.
Let’s say you have work to do. Here are two ways someone can tell you to do said work.
“You have two hours of work to do, get to it.”
Or…
“You have some work to do, get to it.”
Which of these two statements do you think will motivate you to start the work first? I’m willing to bet it’s the statement without the number in it. The one without the time dictated to you. Even if it will take two hours, do you really want to hear about it ahead of time?
Expectations can be a real bitch when writing.
Length decision ahead of time nearly led to me not finishing my first novel. I’d decided ahead of time the book would be three hundred plus pages. However, upon working on the book, I realized by the hundred page mark that it was half-way finished. I would have to piddle around if I ever hoped to get to three hundred pages, and that wasn’t the type of book I was writing. It was a first person account of a serial killing spree. It was a letter as well, and two hundred pages for a letter was plenty. By the by, it ended up being two hundred pages, but I never really decided that was how long it was going to be. In order to finish the story, I let the story itself dictate how long it was going to be. If it was to only be one hundred fifty pages, so be it. Just ended up being two hundred.
This doesn’t just apply to fiction. It applies to reviews, editorials, and other forms of non-fiction as well.
There are obvious limits to this form of free for all writing length. If you’re submitting to an anthology, and it’s a seven thousand word limit, it’s perfectly okay to try to keep it under seven thousand. All I’m saying is, if it goes over, you have the option to go with it, and see where the story takes you. Plenty of anthologies to submit to, after all. Ditto when it comes to non-fiction articles, or reviews. If you end up going over the word limit, perhaps keep it going, and see if you can get the article somewhere else, that doesn’t have the lower word count. Besides, if you really want to get a piece placed in a certain anthology, or magazine, or website, you can always perform the ancient art of the cut. Being amazingly brief, I’ve yet to have to perform this ritual of old.
So go at the page, but try not to have any preconceptions. If you’re anything like me, they’ll be wrong anyway.
I experimented with outlines at one point in my fiction. I’ve since given up doing anything other than a very rough outline, and do you want to know why, kiddies? Because, I’d always end up writing something different than in the damn outline! Often, it seems I work better making things up as I go along. A character will think something, and then say something based on the thought. This will cause the other character with him to do something. So, something as simple as one character’s mind wandering can completely change the direction of your tale.
Let the whimsy commence!
Topics: Stuff | 3 Comments »
The Dunning-Kruger Effect: Am I Really As Bad As I Think I Am?
First, to quote from the wiki article, this is the definition of the Dunning-Kruger Effect.
The Dunning–Kruger effect is a cognitive bias in which unskilled people make poor decisions and reach erroneous conclusions, but their incompetence denies them the metacognitive ability to recognize their mistakes. The unskilled therefore suffer from illusory superiority, rating their ability as above average, much higher than it actually is, while the highly skilled underrate their own abilities, suffering from illusory inferiority.
I happen to suffer from the latter, though I think highly skilled is overselling it. Part of the issue is, I really have no reliable way of knowing if the reviews, or stories I write are any good. Hence, I have no accurate way to know which side I’m on; the unskilled who thinks he’s great, or the great who thinks he’s unskilled.
In the interest of laying all my cards on the table, I do currently think everything I write is utterly, devastatingly terrible.
I’m willing to be fair about my skill level due to a number of factors. I’m relatively new at writing fiction, and reviews. I didn’t start the process until about six years ago. It sounds like more than enough time, but in writer years, six is about one, or two. It’s kind of like reverse dog years.
Likewise, I’ve been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. While I don’t view it as a crutch which should effect my writing much, it is nonetheless always at the back of my mind. I’m very self-conscious about coming off like a complete moron, because for many years, I just assumed I was one. Often, I still beat myself up over not having the largest vocabulary, or being as smart as other people. And, just as often, I’m all but crippled by self-doubt. I’m my own worst critic, and this is no pity party, but the script usually consists of lines like this.
“You’re a fucking idiot, and no one in their right mind would ever pay to read anything you’d create.”
“What’s the point of even writing reviews? You are a joke, and everything you write comes off as idiotic, and uninformed.”
“This story is crap. You spent two weeks of your time, and what you cranked out was this horseshit. Why do you even bother? Just give up, before you embarrass yourself further.”
“You know why (insert name here) has more readers? Because you are a terrible film critic/fiction writer. A delusional horror nerd who thinks he has valuable insights, when he in fact has nothing of substance to offer.”
Or, how about this little gem.
“You wrote a book. Congratulations. It sucks.”
Yeah, it’s often not very fun in this torture chamber known as my conscious mind. Whose on the bench today? Oh right, same dude that’s been on it for the last twenty-seven years.
So what was the point of writing this article? Well, I guess it’s to let you fine readers know that despite all these doubts, and all the torment I put myself through, I will continue to create posts for you to read. Will continue to write stories for you to read, awful though I may assume they are. For a while, I’m sure I’ll continue to think everything I clickity-click into being is dreadful. Perhaps, I’ll continue to think everything I write is dreadful for my whole life. I have no way of knowing. But, the act of creation is what it’s important. If given the choice between the worst possibility, that I am terrible at what I do, or simply not doing anything, I will always choose action over inaction. Because I have to try. Because I will not sit idly by and do nothing, simply because I’m afraid. Because there is also the other possibility; that I am a good writer, and I’m too close to the work to know it. That I’m obsessing over the few ugly or dead trees (spelling errors, grammar errors, lack of vocabulary, rejection emails, perceived low number of readers), and not seeing the forest (a few published stories, some positive feedback, readers, no matter the number). Not seeing the vast wilderness I’ve thought into being; the landscape of ideas and creativity molded into life by dry hands and fingers, covered in sensitive skin.
Ultimately, it isn’t up to me to decide if I’m any good at this. It’s up to you. And some of you will have issues with what I create. It’s just an inevitabilty. Here’s to hoping that more of a percentage enjoy these creations enough to keep the machine running, more than ever.
Topics: Stuff | 4 Comments »
Random-Ass Interview: Pollyanna McIntosh
Add another one to the pile…of talented people who’ve agreed to answer my stupid questions!
I’m pleased as Hell to offer you an interview with Pollyanna McIntosh, who plays The Woman, in the Lucky Mckee directed film…well, The Woman. You know she’s stunning beautiful, when she can still somehow look sexy, covered in dirt, with brown teeth, eating a fish whilst it still wriggles. And she’s going to have a role in the upcoming film adaptation of Irvine Welsh’s novel Filth.
Yet, it was her role as The Woman in question which really caught my eye. I will go on record as saying that the best performance out of any film I saw in 2011 was hers. She managed to convey raw, animal intensity, while simultaneously exuding genuine human anguish and terror. She was equal parts terrorizer, and terrorized in The Woman, and I know I’m going to love introducing new people to the film, in large part, because of her.
Oh, and that reminds me. The Woman is out on dvd, and Blu Ray, January 24th.
But enough seriousness, let’s get on to the cat, and cereal mascot questions.
What scares you?
Limits.
Favorite book?
Lolita.
Favorite film?
Dog Day Afternoon.
Last week I had an existential crisis. One of those cliché ones where you ask yourself, what am I doing with my life? As an actress, have you ever had a time where you wondered to yourself about your chosen career path?
May you have many more, they are good for you. Hope you feel a little more sure now though. Um….Sort of never and always. I’m full of madness for choosing this path, well aware of it, but I have no choice!
Favorite phrase from Scotland?
My hearts in the Highlands, my heart is not here. My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.
For Offspring and The Woman, did you study wild life, or certain tribes from areas of the world to prepare for the role? Or, did you just go method, and live in the woods, occasionally hunting and eating people?
All three! Quite seriously. Except the eating people bit. I considered trying meat again, after over twenty years of not but I had to draw the line somewhere!
Favorite cartoon?
Southpark
Favorite nonsense word, or sound, from Offspring and or The Woman?
“Babeeeeee!”, of course.
Black magic gives all of the cats in the world super strength, and a desire to eat the flesh of humans. You are one of the last humans left alive. Armed with a magical super soaker, filled with mystical water that changes the super cats back to regular cats, you are charged with saving the world from the feline menace.
If this was a film that (somehow) had a great script, and a good director attached, would you star as the lead?
With Kristen Wiig and Paddy Chayefsky co-writing it, Frank Oz directing, Ryan Gosling as my love interest and Meryl Streep and Robert De Niro as the bad guys and Peter Dinklage as my father…I’m in.
Worst injury?
Oof. The heart. Always.
Was it fun being in The Acid House? Was it…trippy?
It was trippy as all fuck, to quote Scotland style again. It was my first movie, I was sixteen, was paid 35 pounds for the day (less than my train fare to get there) and I had to act opposite a “real person” actor who had just been coerced out of a burnt out car where he was drinking whisky for the afternoon with his mate. I loved it. In fact, my next movie will be another Irvine Welsh film.
You see….madness!
Was it hard adjusting to life in Portugal and Colombia, when you moved from Scotland?
I was so young and became so used to moving that it was all adventure. It was hard leaving, always, but I don’t remember it being hard to start. I remember thinking, “Now I can be a better person in this new place.” Precociously idealistic!
That kind of youth prepares you for an actor’s life. I feel very lucky to have had it.
If you could be a monster, what kind would you be?
I’d have fur like a Jellycat cuddly toy so I could just snuggle into myself and…I’d have a monstrous belly that meant tasty rubbish was good for me. I’d be able to turn dictatorial assholes good with a single scare and when I closed my eyes I could choose any movie to watch I wanted.
If you could resurrect anyone to have dinner with, who would it be?
My Nana. She was bloody funny and there’s a lot I’d have liked to have asked her as an adult.
Favorite swear?
Ballbags.
Favorite animal?
Elephant.
Girlfriend (Emily) guest question:
Did you get to keep the clothes from that amazing Vogue UK shoot you did? Those green silk Tom Ford sandals were amazing.
Oh Emily! (sure Sean, I’ll call you Emily if you like.) I wish! They were goddamn beautiful! “Vertiginous heels” I believe they called them. Woof.
Positively Bleak
If there really was a Count Chocula, would he only terrorize chocolate, you think?
He’d suck on chocolate filled things like doughnuts…and small children the day after Easter.
Roughly how many terrible horror movies have you turned down at this point? Is it close to a hundred yet?
Not even close. Maybe fifteen. There are some corkers out there!
Do you think modeling helped prepare you for acting?
Yes: I met so many characters in that business and in my travels that have fed me as inspiration.
Perhaps if I hadn’t had the fucked up body bullshit that most models go through I would have had it later as an actress, which could have been more detrimental as it’s a career I value more than my previous one. As it is I’m glad I got it out the way young and learnt how precious it is to be healthy so that now no amount of Hollywood headfuck is going to start me hating on my body.
It is good to have had a grounding in another self employed, rejection filled business too.
No: I had to shake off a certain “poseyness” (new word) from my early work as an actor. As a model you know how to move in a certain way and it just looks daft on camera when you’re supposed to be honest. Ha ha. Thanks for bringing that memory back…
Generally the business can encourage a certain childishness born of insecurity as models are required to act like they are terribly important in front of the camera and have absolutely no say of any import in the job they are doing. It’s an odd dichotomy and I’ve seen plenty girls struggle to transition into adult life because of it. I think I’m doing okay….You know, actually, being an actor can do the same thing if you’re not careful. Madness proof once again.
Lucky Mckee wouldn’t tell me what part of Massachusetts you filmed The Woman in.
…
What part of Massachusetts did you film The Woman in?
Greenfield, Turners Falls and Deerfield. See Lucky, that wasn’t so hard!
Would you ever do voice over work? It seems like it’d be cool. You think you could show up drunk in your pajamas or something?
I’ve done a couple of video games. I’d like to do lots more. It’s very freeing, like mask work. Yes! To show up and not have to go through hair and makeup is a dream!
Is there any genre of film you’ve been dying to take a role in lately?
More comedy please.
Was there anything in particular that was hard to get used to when you moved to America? For instance, if I moved to the UK, I know getting used to driving on the left side of the road would give me trouble.
Culture is a wonderful thing but my own would sometimes backfire through misunderstanding. Back home if you say “thank you” the response is, “you’re welcome” but here it’s perfectly acceptable to say, “uh huh”. To me, that was like being slapped in the face. I still remember seeing that woman walk away and wanting to know why her sanctimonious ass had targeted me. Thank god I didn’t go after her. That’s when you realize you’ve been socialized in ways you never knew.
Has anyone ever made any bad apple puns around you?
They’ve asked me to put the kettle on a few times. Apples, not so much. Try me…
(Like to take a bite of that Mc…no, I’m not finishing that one.)
Thank you for agreeing to do this interview. I look forward to seeing you in a whole crap ton more films. Anything else you want to add? Any plugs, any general statements you want to express?
We all have our wisdom to impart. That doesn’t mean I have anything smart to say, just a fact.
Here’s my twittering whittering nonsense links if anyone wants to say hi: twitter – PollyAMcIntosh and Facebook – Pollyanna McIntosh. Thank YOU.
Topics: Random-Ass Interviews | No Comments »
Screwed Up Screenshots: Friday the 13th Part 2
You’d think being special needs, Jason would be more sympathetic to the handicapped. You’d be wrong.
Topics: Screwed Up Screenshots | No Comments »
