Parents, right? Unless you’re an orphan, in which case, dramatic destinies of greatness, right? But if you have the parental units, don’t you wish they came with fine-tuning knobs? “Okay, let’s turn up the interest in movies, turn down the guilt and adjust the level of Facebook interaction to somewhere around zero.” Or how about installing a mute button? Don’t get us wrong; we love some of our parents. We’re bound to feel awful once they’re gone or so they keep reminding us. It’s just that these people don’t seem to realize we don’t need them in the same way we used to when we were young and dependent on them for survival. We can feed ourselves now. We pay our own way. We’re getting pretty good at either making moral and ethical decisions or avoiding them with large amounts television. It’s not necessary for Mommy and Daddy to be so involved now, though having the laundry done for us again might be nice. Parents need to figure out that we’re like cats: we’ll come to you for affection and attention in our own time and on our own terms and you’ll be ever so charmed by us. Parents, on the other hand, with their need for regular attention and vague desire to help in some way, are more like the dog you leave with your brother when you move. The brother you’re still speaking to, of course.

What Makes A Good Party? According to the experts of 1950, you need a gaggle of squeaky chicks that like to hold planning meetings and arrange hook ups for gang noobs. Not to mention mixers and enough food to feed the men and the one heavy girl. But will that be enough? Will it!?!

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Wondering where to stick pins in your dolls to create specific effects? Use this handy chart.

Why would anyone need a fake well in the front yard? Are they trying to fool the neighbors into thinking they don’t need that fancy pants city water? Or are they hoping to dupe foot traffic into tossing change into it in exchange for wishes? Sure, a lot of people use these false wells as planters, but a lot of them just sit there empty as if to say, “Ain’t this a fine well? We own it, but we let you look at it. Lucky you!” Actual wells don’t usually sit in the front yard and no longer rely on the technology of a bucket and a rope. Perhaps the real well is being powered by that fake windmill that never turns and the water is stored in the fake barrel. As if these people didn’t have enough crap to mow around already. If we ever have a yard, it will be gravel, and any wells will be unmarked holes going forty feet down to either water or sharpened sticks. It’s up to you to find out which.

But where is pay?

This is easily the saddest picture we have ever taken.

Too much of a bad thing? Here’s what happens when you push the shiny red button in Cabin In The Woods (2012). Spoilers? Oh, hellz yeah.

Luka has a new boyfriend. Well, he’s an old flame rekindled.

Mel sure is a loud-mouthed punk. What he lacks in size, he makes up for in volume, always spouting off about what he’s seen or who he’s been out with. He also wears a jacket with lapels a lot so bigger guys have something to grab him by. Find out if the gang will take out their post football defeat frustrations by beating down Mel in the middle of the dance floor in The Trouble Maker (1959).

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Extra points if you knock off his hat!

Are you smarter than average? You’ve figured out a web browser, so that puts you over a not insignificant segment of the population. Presumably you own and use an MP3 player, so that’s good. If it isn’t filled with Contemporary Christian music, even better. Can you weigh your opinions and beliefs against proven evidence and adjust as needed? Hey, that puts you way over the top. Good for you, you’re smart! Now keep it to yourself. The last thing you need is people finding out you’re intelligent, because once they do, they won’t leave you alone. “Hey, my computer’s really slow. Could you look at it?” “What’s the best kind of mutual fund for my 401K?” “My eight year old is turning into such a slag. Should I beat her?” All of a sudden you’re the mental equivalent to the guy with the pickup who’s friends are all moving. You don’t need that kind of aggravation in your life. Smart people play dumb. Just listen to us; we sound like a couple of idiots. That just shows you how brilliant we really are.

The Crater Lake Monster, as a film, is an eyesore. And the lake it’s set on is no prom queen either. But what about the real Crater Lake? Click here to see a few pics of the the real deal.

DC Comics certainly seems anxious to capitalize on Arrow‘s success. Flash has the advantage to being a direct tie-in with the Hooded Heart-throb. But whereas Oliver Queen is a Studly Do-Right, Barry Allen is more of your “Aw Shucks, I’ll just do my best” kind of kid. Whatta cutie.

Fox is also going to try and join the fun this Fall with Gotham, a prequel series that follows Jim Gordon as he begins his work as a detective in the Big Bad City and meets a bunch of proto-villains and Bat Babies.

And NBC is showing its balls again by taking a chance on Constantine, based on the classic DC title Hellblazer. Every time a major network has tried to do a show based on demons and exorcism, it’s tanked, but Hellblazer was good story telling. Maybe it will work? At least Keanu Reeves isn’t involved this time.

Sara’s parents sure are concerned about their snobby daughter. “Aw Pumpkin, try to like people for whatever they are.”
“You mean judgmental little shits? Sure pops, I’ll get right on that.”
“All these people you don’t like . . . aren’t they happier than you are?”
YES! THAT’S WHY WE HATE THEM! Oh wait, that wasn’t Sara. That was just Skullard projecting. Find out why it’s better to ostracize yourself before the group does it for you in The Snob (1958).

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: When it comes right down to it, people aren’t so bad. We’re all the same, really. Everyone just wants to be acknowledged and appreciated for who they are, even though sometimes who they are turns out to be needy, irritating time-sponges. What does it cost us if we merely take a moment and interact with people in a pleasant way? That moment, sure . . . and the next few moments because no one seems able to disengage. Not to mention feigning interest is dishonest, so it costs us our integrity as well. A little shitty chitty-chat greases the bung-hole of social intercourse, and if we didn’t plug that opening, those poor people would end up intercoursing themselves, wouldn’t they?

We got April Fooled in so many ways this year. The weatherman told us it was Spring. Pffft, yeah right. The landlord said he would fix the roof. Whatta prankster. The grocery store keeps moving expired food to the front of the shelf. Almost got us with that one, clever Stock Boy. AMC put out a new show called Those Who Kill and tried passing it off as an AMC show. Hardy-Har, funny guys.

This week’s bad movie was The Tingler (1959) which isn’t a bad movie at all, really. It’s a William Castle joint, which means schlock and gimmicks galore. When this movie was in the theaters, people got their asses buzzed. For free! And Vincent Price played the part of a scientist/coroner in a very low-key way . . . until he took a hit of acid.

Want to celebrate Drop Everything And Read Day but don’t have time to Stop Everything? How about a book on the go, and here’s a bunch of free audiobook stories from Skullard’s favorite author P. G. Wodehouse: click here.

Sometimes it’s hard for us to shut up about our love of the Batman of 60’s TV. They just don’t do cameos like that anymore.

Boy, that guy Chick is sure shit-heel, always pushing around the smaller kids and riding new bikes with no hands. What makes him such a douche? Could it be that his parents named him “Chick”? Find out what happens when Chick and his gang of midgets haul buckets of mud from one park to the next in The Bully (1952).

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: this guy died laughing.

This week we talk sports, which is something we rarely do. Possibly because we can’t even agree on what a “sport” is. Luka holds that a sport is athletic competition, while Skullard thinks a sport needs an objective scoring system. Usually this isn’t a problem, but bring up figure skating and all of a sudden the gloves come off (hockey reference). Fortunately, we’re able to come back together and agree that incestuous hillbillies shouldn’t eat the flesh of albino alligator victims. We also concur that it’s not a good idea to let your antiques animate and roam the countryside looking for innocent bystanders to lick.

The Pope says, “Give peace a chance.” The predators say, “Sure, I’ll take a piece of that.”

What is a Marmot? It’s a blood-thirsty killer that will rip your neck open with it’s nasty fangs! It’s got a CR of 9 and 87 hit points. It’s also adora-balls.

Animated Umbrella Monster says: “Clean out those closets and recycle, kids!”

The Duke of Wrong, the Man Himself – Myk Lewis has a new comedy site along with his old pal and co-conspirator Steve Cox. Check out all they have to offer from the depths of Al Capone’s Vault! (It wasn’t as empty as you were told.)

Nell sez that your secretarial pool has turned into a gaggle of gossiping geese, and she would know. In fact, I heard Sally say she overheard the boss telling the Pittsburg office over the phone that gossip had become a real problem around here. How can you stop gossip in the workplace? Fire all those mouthy broads, that’s how. But hear it all for yourself from The Grapevine (1953).

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Grandma, can you teach me to make a pie?

Mmmm, Uncle Pie!

This week Skullard is accused of being the kind of person who expresses his overly negative opinions on the internet by people who have never even heard the podcast. He is also accused by Luka of being full of shit when it comes to the history of Thomas Crapper, which turns out to be true. Mr. Crapper did NOT invent the modern toilet, although he was a fine plumber and greatly enhanced the design. And we were all full of Crapper when it comes to Humpty Dumpty who, as it turns out, was never an egg but was Humphrey Dempsey, a Chicago city alderman in the early 1920’s. Mr. Dempsey was brought up on corruption charges and removed from office when it was revealed that he was handing out preferential contracts to a local crime boss. Specifically, the reconstruction of a collapsed retaining wall that ran along five miles of train tracks in the Chicago stock yards was held up by Dempsey for more than a year in order to favor a bid from his “good friend” Mitchell King. A prominent construction magnate, King was also heavily involved in prostitution, gambling and loan sharking because who wants to buy a shark, really? You use it for a weekend and then it sits in the garage for the next several years flopping around and eating vagrants. Better just to rent one, and King was in that business. And since he was also in the business of renting women, King sent some of his rental property to the district attorney prosecuting Dempsey to see if he might drop the charges along with his trousers. The D.A. was having none of it though, because he had access to a secretarial pool in the 1920’s. When the sexy stuff didn’t work, King sent some of his bigger goons around the D.A.’s place to give him a good talking to. But the crafty lawyer was better at talking than a bunch of goons, as well might be imagined, and King’s enforcers took up new jobs in the Chicago Police Department where they could brutalize people all they wanted and get a pension. So as you can see, Humphrey Dempsey sat on the wall, Humphrey Dempsey had a great fall (from public office), and all of King’s whores and all of King’s men couldn’t pressure the D.A. to drop the charges. Thank gawd for Wikipedia.

Charlie Brooker’s Weekly Wipe is currently Skullard’s favorite show each week for reasons that are both varied and delightful in their gossamer delicacy. One of those more varied and less delicate bits is Doug Stanhope, the relentless bludgeon of comedy, known to Luka only as “That Terrible Man”.

Also featured on Weekly Wipe is Philomena Cunk, animated gif and crowd participant, who’s mind may well be perfection if you’re into that sort of thing.

C’mon Bob, you know that without the right amount of rest and Dairy Council approved meals you’ll never get better at football. Or bowling. Or with that tramp girlfriend who’s now all interested in that other milk-drinking guy. Get your act together with It’s All In Knowing How (1951).

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: According to the postcard, “These five cows represent the Brown, Swiss, Jersey, Holstein, Ayrshire and Guernsey breeds. The beauty of each is an inspiration to every breeder of dairy cattle.” Fuckin’ A!