March 20th, 2007


(no subject)

Since I've been on this zombie kick, I was pleased yesterday evening when I noticed that Night of the Comet was on Cinemax, or Showtime. I'm not sure which. This is not to be confused with Year of the Comet, which was on another channel simultaneously. Much to my dismay, the trusty info button informed me that Year of the Comet is about a rare bottle of wine, and some sort of romantic adventure. Night of the Comet, as you know, is about cannibal zombies and valley girls. This was the obvious choice. 

I won't even get into plotholes, since we're talking cannibal zombies. I think a little Ed Wood-style suspension of disbelief is in order. They use shoes as ammo, and there's some punk rock zombies. That alone makes it a winner. The only thing I don't get is this whole zombie/consumerism thing. I mean, I've heard George Romero wax on about this a million times. Don't ask. There was a point when I watched every  horror movie director-packed documentary available, thanks to a particularly low season of fun Netflix rentals. I'm pretty sure he'd suck his own cock for pairing the two in the orignal Dawn of the Dead, but quite frankly, I don't really care about it. I care about zombies. And puppies. But mostly zombies. Plus, he should be flogged by me personally for that crap fest Land of the Dead. It sucked major, besides the casting of European hottie Asia Argento (who, if I had the proper appendages, I'd totally have a stiffy for). Har Har Har... have a stiffy for. Pun totally intended.  

Anyway, while I could post journal entry after journal entry about my recent obsession with 80's zombie romps, I'll spare you the pain and suffering. I'm still one of the living, and that means I have to work, which means I have to spend a half hour blow drying my hair. Starting....