Saturday, June 2, 2012

"Let's hurl some acid at those female Democratic Senators..." ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

From THINK PROGRESS

 

 

How do you deal with female political opponents? If you’re the spokesman for Rep. Nan Hayworth’s (R-NY) re-election campaign, you might “hurl some acid” at them.

Jay Townsend, a longtime GOP communications director, proposed just that on a Facebook forum with constituents this week. The comment, which is still up here (as of the time of posting), is in reply to another commenter named Tom:

Acid throwing is not a joke. It is a serious and horrific form of gender-based violence. Seventy two percent of the time, victims of acid throwing are women. In fact, an attack occurred in Pakistan just four days ago– two women and one two year-old child were injured...

 

You know I will admit to being a hippie liberal but I don't care what side of the political divide you are on. This kind of statement is undefendable...

So this is for you Jay Townsend

Thursday, May 31, 2012

(Recommended Hotness) Since I'm posting pictures of all my favorite hotties here's DollHaus Bettie!

(Recommended Hotness) Cadenza again!

(Recommended Reads) KING CADAVER by Maria Protopapadaki-Smith

I hear the whispered password and unbolt the steel door.

“I found a beauty today,” JJ says.

“Shhh,” I say. It isn’t quite dark yet but I don’t want to take any chances. There is an echo on the ground floor level that worries me even during the daytime. I hate having the last watch of the day. Every little creak makes me jump and even my own breath sounds like it’s coming from somewhere close behind me....

 

click here to read the rest

IN IT FOR THE KILLS reviews the very ahead of its time SPECTRE!

Spectre is an especially rare American TV movie/pilot (for a show that wasn’t picked up) in that it could have fit in with any Euro-horror of the seventies; especially, I’d imagine, when it was shown theatrically in Europe with extra nudity added. Alas, I saw the American version, so no boobs and butts for me. But even puritanized, Spectre inspires all the fascination of any movie where smartasses (played here by Robert Culp and Gig Young) try to find a demon and uncover, yes, a demon possessing one of the people they’re investigating. The surprise is, it isn’t who they think it is, or even what. There’s also a cult of worshippers and a pretty intricately designed and ancient worship hall located beneath an English stately home...

To read the rest of the article click here.

FALSE POSITIVE is still working on 'The Cleanup'

Say this... and I agree- Fuck Barbie

(Recommended Hotness) THE JUDGEMENT OF PARIS presents Jenn Purviance

Route d'abbaye


The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions): Route d'abbaye Hidden Track - Her Majesty

The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions)

Route d'abbaye

Hidden Track

Her Majesty

by

Al Bruno III



Route d’abbaye was gone. Route d’abbaye had never been. The pieces of the game had been returned to their proper places. The Sallow Sultan was back on the corner of Cailleach Road, Jack Diamond was standing in the late evening traffic of Shartok’s Circle clad only in his shirt and boxer shorts, the streetlights slipped back into their proper arrangement with the speed of a passing thought.


Judy Bauer found herself in the broken furniture and slimy walls of the long, squat building on Dannigers Verde. The effects of the sushi and the unexpected translocation made her suddenly and violently ill. By the time the heaving was over she found herself wearing her last two meals.


“Son of a bitch,” she choked and spat.


“We met again.” Dr. Flesh was sitting cross-legged on the floor, “third times a charm.”


Judy brushed at the chunks of goo clinging to her blouse, “Where are we?”


“Dannigers Verde.”


In the far corner of the room a rafter shifted and fell onto a metal table. The sound was like a single toll from a broken bell. The floor was sticky under her feet, sticky with something far more disgusting that her own sick, “What happened?”


“Jason Magwier,” Dr. Flesh said knowing it was the only answer she would need.


“Son of a bitch!”


“That’s what you get for being underfoot. I told you to go back home.”


“I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay home. I had to go to that damn chapel. Something made me.”


He smirked, “There was a lot of that going on tonight.”


She spat again, “More of Magwier's doing I suppose?”


“He works in mysterious ways.” Dr. Flesh pulled a baggie and some rolling papers from his long coat. He worked in silence as Judy took off her blouse and tried to shake out the chunkiest of the mess it had caught. Her bra was the color of smoke and had a jeweled clasp in the front.


It always came down to Magwier didn't it? Judy wondered to herself what the man had gotten out of his mischief this time. Probably nothing that would make sense until it was too late. She had warned her roommates to stay away from the man. Why couldn't they understand he was no hero? He was just an ageless trickster leaving a trail of dead lovers and wounded friends in his wake.


“...her majesty...”


She shot him a glance, “What?”


Dr. Flesh held a a joint up to her, “I said would her majesty like a toke?”


A sneering comment came to mind but she decided against it. Instead she crouched down beside him took a hit then passed it back. “What was our final score?” she exhaled.


“Thirteen,” Dr. Flesh paused long enough to take another draw off the joint, “no luck on Jack Diamond though.”


She frowned, “I suppose that was too much to hope for.” Judy Bauer straightened up and pulled her clammy blouse back on, “I have half a mind to send Magwier my dry cleaning bill.”


“That would go over well,” Dr. Flesh stubbed the remains of the joint out and got to his feet, “or do you think he already knows?”


“I couldn’t care less,” Judy said but that wasn’t entirely true. She wouldn’t want Magwier to snitch on her to Lorelei, after all good roommates were hard to come by.


Somewhere outside there was a siren and a muffled explosion. It sounded like more rioting was breaking out. She wondered what the cause was this time; politics or fallout from what she had done?


“It goes without saying that regardless of Jack Diamond I expect to be paid in full,” Dr. Flesh smiled.


“But you did say it,” Judy’s expression became imperious, “but don’t you worry. The bank notes are ready and waiting for you.”


“Perfect,” he pulled a handful of random pills from his coat pocket and swallowed them dry, “the sooner I’m out of this fucking city the better.”


Judy said, “Don’t let me keep you,” then watched him leave. Part of her couldn’t believe she’d shared a joint with Dr. Flesh. It was the kind of story she’d be telling in her dotage, assuming she lived that long.


Thirteen. She mused, a number of cosmic mystery, a number that represented an unknown future. It wasn’t necessarily an lucky number but it didn’t bode well for the immediate future. The Lunts, Constabulary and who knows else were going to be looking for the cause of tonight’s mayhem. She was going to have to watch her back, and make sure sweet, silent Isaac helped as well.


Enough was enough, it was time to head home and help Lorelei count her bruises. The gummy floor seemed to claw at her shoes as she walked; a sensation she somehow equated with the low born and the poor.


Something clinked against her toe. Expecting the worst Judy steeled herself before she looked down.


But it wasn’t something disgusting or dreadful, it was a red phial.


She remembered Dr. Flesh saying,“This is a jultomten. Haven’t you heard of them?”


The realization the deadliest of assassins had unknowingly left behind his Demon of If amused Judy to no end. His loss was her gain. She pocketed the red phial and headed out onto the crooked sidewalks of Dannigers Verde.


For a confused moment she thought the landmarks were all wrong. Hadn’t there been a crosswalk here? Hadn’t there been trees and a white Volkswagen parked nearby?


She shook her head, then moved on, navigating the familiar streets of Olathoe with ease.

Things at THE ABADDON keep getting weirder!

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The trailer looks awesome but can ARROW make it as a tv series?

I'd like to think so GA was my favorite MEGO action figure back in the day.

 

From TOPLESS ROBOT

 

No comments:

Iron Patriot is in IRON MAN 3?

Somehow I am going to turn this song into a Lovecraft Mythos story... Anyway SING IT Captain & Tenille!

No comments:

PLAID STALLIONS has a vested interest in 1970's fashions!

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

THE COLD INSIDE (a serial novel) Chapter Twelve part two

THE COLD INSIDE

Chapter Twelve

part two

By AL BRUNO III


Friday November 11, 1994



The teachers at Blessed Heart tended to really pile on the homework for the weekends. Tristam had always assumed that it was part of their ‘If We Can’t Have Social Lives Why Should The Students?’ policy.


Thankfully he was getting a good chunk of it done now. Tristam sat in his mother’s office with nothing but the buzz of the intercom and the murmurings of the staff and patients to distract him. His Algebra was already done and he was making surprisingly good progress on his history text, hopefully they would be past the Renaissance soon. This chapter was killing him. At least his history teacher Mr. Hughes spiced things up in his lectures by telling them naughty anecdotes about the Borgia Popes.


His Mom had given him change for the soda machine and there was a can of Pepsi sitting in the corner of the desk. He wanted a dose of that caffeine goodness now but he was keeping it as a reward. All he had to do was get through this chapter of his history textbook and he could drink it.


It might be warm by the time I’m finished with this crud. What I wouldn’t give for a radio right now.


His mother had kept a radio for a time, but after the first one and its replacement were stolen out of her locked office she decided against a radio number three. He wished she had gotten something, even an el cheapo model, that way there would be some kind of music to keep him company. Music might distract him from the weird prickly sensation at the back of his neck. It was that feeling he got whenever someone was standing right behind him.


Since his back was to the wall there was no way anyone could be there, so he knew he was just being paranoid. And it’s no wonder considering what I have to go through every day at school.


“I hear you killed a dog.”


Tristam gasped audibly and looked to the doorway. He had visions of reporters or worse but it was only Phil. “My Mom is out of cigarettes.”


“I’m not asking for smokes,” he stepped into the room, pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the desk, “I was asking you a question.”


“I’m trying to study,” Tristam turned his attention back to his homework.


The old man reached out and snapped the history textbook closed, “Study later.”


The sound echoed through the office. Tristam wanted to run, there was something in Phil’s eyes, something he’d never noticed before- a cruel gleam. He saw that gleam a lot in the eyes of Kenny Wurman and Bobby Hilton.


Tristam glared, “I don’t need this crap.”


“What happened? Did it hump your leg too hard?”


“That wasn’t funny the first time I heard it.”


“So did you do it? Did you really do it?”


“What do you think?”


Phil leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know, you don’t look like a psycho. I’ve known some really psychos in my time.”


“Thanks.”


“I heard you did worse. I heard you went to town.”


“Fuck off.” Tristam tried to sound menacing.


“Ohhhhhhh! Tough guy huh? How about I fuck off to your Mom and tell her about your smoking habit?”


“Jesus Christ!”


What the Hell is this? I thought old people were afraid of teenagers!


Phil’s expression became more brutal “Tell me how you killed the dog and I’ll shut up and leave you alone.”


“No.”


“OK.” He started to stand, “Then I’m gonna go and have a little heart-to-heart with your Mom. I like talking to your Mom, she’s got a nice ass on her. She’s a little too wimpy for my tastes but a nice ass is a nice ass.”


“Fine. Good.” Tristam sat back down, “It might be a fun conversation. Maybe my Mom will get so pissed at you that she’ll arrange for your wife to get sent someplace else... Someplace with a staff that even gives less of a shit then the one here.”


They glared at each other for a moment then the old man started laughing. “Not bad. You’re learning.”


“I... What…”


“Now don’t ruin it by apologizing.” Phil, got up and started to leave, pausing in the doorway to ask “Say you don’t have any weird allergies to metals or certain plants do you?”


“What? No.”


“Just checking. See you around kid.”


Tristam turned his attention back to his history text. When he finished the chapter fifteen minutes later he realized that the old man had swiped his Pepsi.



Click Here To Continue

Look, I am just gonna keep posting stuff from THE ABADDON until you start reading it...

(Recommended Hotness) Who wears short shorts? Cadenza!

From her NSFW blog

 

 

 

 

(Recommended Hotness) THE JUDGEMENT OF PARIS is a treasure trove hot loveliness!

Sorry no PRICE BREAKS AND HEARTACHES again... the holiday weekend and money stress did me in...

Next week should be good to go through...

 

Portrait of the Writer as a Young Idiot by George Vasilakos

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

The story that explains how I went from this- 

 

 

 

to THIS!

 
 

 

 

The somewhat true story of how I barely lost my virginity, almost missed out on true love and nearly lost my mind!

 

Portrait of the Writer as a Young Idiot by George Vasilakos

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

The story that explains how I went from this- 

 

 

 

to THIS!

 
 

 

The somewhat true story of how I barely lost my virginity, almost missed out on true love and nearly lost my mind!

 

Portrait of the Writer as a Young Idiot by George Vasilakos

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

The story that explains how I went from this- 

 

 

 

to THIS!

 
 

 

The somewhat true story of how I barely lost my virginity, almost missed out on true love and nearly lost my mind!

 

Portrait of the Writer as a Young Idiot by George Vasilakos

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

The story that explains how I went from this- 

 

 

 

to THIS!