060 Seven Inch Long Monkey

Growing up, you may have heard a parent exclaim, “Stop that! That’s disgusting! What if the Queen showed up and saw you doing that?” That was the secular version of, “What if Christ returned and you were doing that?” Such hypotheticals were meant to instill shame into awkward, misbehaving children. More often than not, though, what got instilled was a paranoia towards the sudden injection of royalty or deity into our daily lives. How’s a kid supposed to relax when at any moment a British monarch could pull the coach up out front, walk in the front door and start judging the children? How does a child deal with the anxiety over the very real chance that Jesus will descend through the clouds, gather His faithful and take them with Him to paradise while that child is busy on the toilet? Jesus isn’t going to interrupt; He isn’t rude, but that means the kid misses the Rapture! What would happen if Christ returned AND the Queen showed up? What’s the protocol? “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I’d love to give you tea, but I didn’t know you were coming, am all out of tea, don’t even own a teapot, and as it turns out I have to rush to claim my eternal reward. So very sorry, Mum, but perhaps we can continue this up in heaven? What’s that Jesus? She’s not . . . oh, now, this IS awkward.”

This week’s Bad Movie Review is about May (2002), a lonely young girl whose mother instilled no small amount of shame and awkwardness of her own. May is a girl with a lazy eye which makes her feel shy and isolated growing up. Her mother uses that isolation to abuse and control the little girl so that by the time May is a young woman, she’s one messed up bowl of rigatoni. She’s really no good at making friends, but she decides if she could make just one friend, one perfect friend, that would be enough. Sadly for her eventual victims, May subscribes to the ala carte school of “making a friend”: take a little from column A, a little from column B, do some creative stitching and viola, a new friend, custom to order. Luka gives this psycho/horror a Pretty Good Unintentionally Bad Movie rating, due to the fact once the killing starts things get a bit silly. Really, a girl Luka’s size is going to slice and dice grown adults with scalpels and scissors? Luka can’t even open a jar of pasta sauce let alone sever Skullard’s spinal column. Not for lack of trying. To open the jar, of course.

Is that a monkey in your pants? This Slender Loris is the same primate that some sub-primates were caught trying to smuggle in this week’s news segment. No, wait, they weren’t trying to smuggle it in the segment, but in a guy’s underwear. The jerk was caught, but hopefully not before some Slender Loris teethmarks were applied liberally.

In the UK, you can dress in a black body suit and be a “Movie Ninja”, keeping the theatre-going public from chatting and texting. In the US you can get your ass shot dead.

Sinbad is a goofy-ass show, but Elliot Knight has Skullard confused and repeatedly having to assert he’s not gay.

He’s Fat-Nyan, cat-turned-rapper-turned-social commentator. He’s got a message for the young people nyan. We’ll be hearing from him in the future nyan. Prepare yourselves nyan.

Kevin MacLeod provides our music over at incompetec.com. Please check out his amazing output. More than likely, this is a jam that Fat-Nyan will use to lay down his rhymes. Groove on it.

Steve has really been misbehaving. Is he a bad kid, or does he just need stricter parents? Are you thrilled to find out the reason? Are you bored enough to sit through a sixteen minute video from fifty years ago? If you answered yes to either of those questions, please tune in to this week’s redundant educational short: Discipline During Adolescence (1958)!

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Why do I have a postcard of the Queen? So I can send it to her, jackass, why do you think? I’m a collector, goddamnit, I don’t ask “why”. Why do I have a postcard of the world’s largest block of cheese? Why do I have a post card of a guy lying dead in the desert? Why do I have a postcard of Dan Quayle? Because I need help, damn you! I need to be stopped! I have no control anymore! I’ve got boxes and boxes . . . where’s it going to end!?! Am I going to end up on Hoarders? Am I going to be found beneath a pile of cardstock or locked away, unshaven, compulsively sorting and resorting pictures of things I never saw myself? And what if the Queen showed up!?!

For the record: Luka never said Skullard was purple.

043 Dull And Boring

Ah, the romance of riding the rails! Whether it’s losing a foot while attempting to hop a flatcar or taking a friendly truncheon from a bull, nothing beats the freedom of America’s rail system. High-speed rail? Who’s in that kind of hurry? Ho-Bo, Ho-Bo, a transient’s life for me! And what better time is there to listen to a podcast on the mp3 player that little girl dropped while running in fear than when you’re watching the country side roll by from an open boxcar door. So steal that sleeping guy’s coat, roll him off into the ravine, open up that cold can of chili you nicked from the convenience store, and settle in for a life-affirming hour of What Could Go Wrong? It’s what freedom-loving Americans do!


Last week we had a bad movie from L.A. Law alum Corbin Bernsen, so this week Luka follows that with another member of that previously distinguished cast playing a nutter health professional. Larry Drake is Dr. Giggles (1992), who’s not a real doctor, but he plays one in your house. There’s nothing like a homicidal freak escaping from the loony bin with a doctor’s bag and a white coat to spice up an otherwise drab weekend. The maniacal faux-doc slashes his way through a small town’s inventory of loose-moral teens with Freddy-esque wise cracks and various medical implements. But as charming as that all sounds, it only rates a Lousy Unintentionally Bad Movie rating from our Luka, who’s Canadian and has higher expectations for health care professionals.

In 1895, a somewhat terrible train crash took place at Gare Montparnasse in Paris, France. Of the 131 passengers, only two were injured. A woman in the street below was struck dead by falling wreckage! The accident took place due to a faulty break and human incompetence. On the plus side, it makes for a rather impressive photo!

Do you enjoy staring at an easily amused child, an array of toy trains, and a cast of hideous marionettes? Most certainly you do! You shall have a wonderful time with this week’s short; The Wonderful World Of Trains (1960)!

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Not only are trains useful and fascinating, but they can offer you important life advice. FRIEND! Please read this postcard and spiritually profit from its wisdom!

042 Things Are Under Control

Don’t let the title fool you. We live in a constant, churning miasma of chaos. Every routine we develop for ourselves is another blanket to crawl under in a vain attempt to hide from the unknowable darkness. Every schedule we jot down in our dayplanners or notes we write on our calendars are flimsy boards nailed over the windows as the zombie apocalypse lurches ever closer to the house. The Bible says, “Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring forth.” The bathroom stall says, “Shit happens”. Same diff. Control is a delusion we desperately cling to, willfully distorting our own vision in order to filter out the preponderance of evidence that existence is a balancing act in the middle of a tornado. Things do fall apart and the center can not hold. We all know that entropy tells us that nature tends from order to disorder, and all our protestations of control are laughable prayers to an unfeeling universe. But we continue to pray and plan and hope against all reasonable hope that our spider-silk constructions can weather the raging storms of random disaster. We tell ourselves that things are under control. We bind our sanity to us with a half-whispered mantra that’s half denial, half dare: “What Could Go Wrong?”

For this week’s Bad Movie Review, Luka rinses and spits on The Dentist (1996). This is a Lousy Unintentionally Bad Movie, but none of the blame goes to Corbin Bernsen who plays the title character. Corbin does a great job acting the wakkaloon as Dr. Alan Feinstone, a dentist who pops his crown when he catches his wife doing something other than oral surgery to the pool boy. That’s not a flouride treatment he’s giving her. The realization that someone else is filling his wife’s cavity is enough to send the drill-happy dentist on an open-wide killing spree. If you’re the type of person who has anxiety about seeing your local dental professional, this movie isn’t for you. But if you like a good torture porn flick that drills down to the nerve, this piece of garbage still isn’t for you. It’s a bad movie, good lead actor or no. What the hell did you expect? It’s a Bad Movie Review, for chrissakes.

Say “Hi” to roly-poly Gnome, a fat nyan who would love to have you as a friend . . . a good, close friend. A friend that might help him with his stinky backside problem.

Skullard was one of the fortunate ones. He had to fill out a form just in case a “My Loved One Perished In The Rock-O-Taco Crunch-Off!” needed to be sent to Luka.

Why are you staying awake all night, stupid? Don’t you realize that sleeping is good for you? Please observe Sleep For Health (1950);

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Numar Professional Equipment Co. / Model R-300-OS. It’s the latest word in both comfort and restraining the patient so you can smother her with a towel. That’ll keep her still when the novacaine wears off.

What should you do when you’re finished listening to the podcast? Here’s an idea!