The Dead Want Women, and I Want My 78 Minutes Back…

Why are so many parents sooo screwed up these days.  I mean, the wife and I are far from perfect,  but I consider us to be pretty good parents.  And I know a lot of good parents exist — but there are some pretty poor excuses out there as well.

I recently rented a movie at RedBox.  I’m kind of into cheesy horror, and RedBox had a brand new release.  I couldn’t find any real reviews or anything for this gem because it was that fresh (straight-to-video).  The movie is called The Dead Want Women. It features Eric Roberts, so I figured it couldn’t be that bad, right?  I mean, Eric Roberts is Julia Roberts big brother.  Sure, he’s been in some duds, but he usually plays a pretty good meanie.  And the cover of this thing looked so campy that I figured it had to be good.

.

.

.

Photobucket
Come on... this looks pretty corny-good, right?

.

.

.

Now, when I rented this, I was not planning to sit down and watch it with my kids.  I wouldn’t let my 8-year old (or even my 14-year old) watch a R-rated horror movie.  The violence is just too much.  I don’t need my kids having nightmares.  Any horror movie that is scary without violence would be rated PG-13 (and there are some pretty good ones).  When you throw R-rated on a horror movie, you just figure there is going to be a lot of blood and guts and gore.  Personally, I love the gore, but I don’t want my kids exposed to it.  Too desensitizing, in my opinion.  There will come a time when we can enjoy the gore together, but that time will be some years in the future.

Okay, so I watch The Dead Want Women, and it totally sucked raw rhubarb.  I mean, this thing is a worthless pile of crap.  Eric Roberts seemed to be having a good time playing this role, and for that alone he should be permanently barred from ever making another movie… EVER!  The acting really wasn’t bad.  The make-up was horrendously clownish, and the plot was totally dented.  Now, the silly make-up would have worked if the movie had some campiness to it, but this dreadful wretch tried to take itself too serious and failed on more levels than I want to take the time to write.

What really gets me, though, is that by the time I got around to writing a review for this festering boil-of-a-movie on the RedBox website to prevent some other poor soul from sitting through even part of this monstrosity, there were some other reviews filing in.

Now, to be fair to some of the reviews that this film has garnered, there was an unusual amount of seemingly unnecessary nudity in this movie.  There are some strange sex scenes, and this one poor actress goes for almost half the movie completely nekked.  I think she may have lost a bet with the director or something…

So anyway, back to other reviews of this pile.  The very first review of the movie on RedBox stated (due to the sex and nudity) that the film is “Not for children.”

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

I’m sorry.  If it weren’t for sex and nudity, is this reviewer saying that a violent, R-rated horror film normally would be cool for the kids to watch?  Does this reviewer normally sit back and watch people’s flesh disintegrate in Cabin Fever while sharing popcorn with the toddlers?  Hostel is fine for the kiddos, but if they added too much nudity or sex, suddenly it would be deemed “not safe for kids”?  Seriously.

I thought maybe this one reviewer was just a little bit tilted as far as his or her perception went, but then I came across another gem that read, “Unclothed scenes put in at bad time! Dont watch this with kids!!”  Wow, the splattering blood and charred human flesh are all fine and good, but put in some “unclothed scenes” and suddenly it’s not kid-friendly?

I guess I can only hope that these reviews weren’t actually written by parents.  Maybe they were written by single people who dream of some day watching horror with their children.  Maybe they will realize that the violence and gore of a typical R-rated horror movie are enough that you really shouldn’t be letting your kids watch it in the first place.

Or maybe — just maybe — watching The Dead Want Women was enough to actually cause some temporary brain damage to these folks.  I feel that even I have been somewhat dented from the experience…

The Death of Mrs. Dryer: A Love Story?

We had to replace our dryer.  Our old dryer just pooped-out.  She had been in a state of deteriorating health for quite some time, but we have put up with her “quirks” because… well… she was our dryer.  When the wife and I were married over 16 years ago, one of the first major purchases we made was a washer and dryer.

I can remember shopping for her (the dryer… not the wife… although I vaguely remember that as well).  We went to every place in town, trying to get a good deal.  We looked at all sorts of off-name brands, but we ended up going with Kenmore from Sears.  I don’t remember the exact reasoning behind why we purchased this particular brand, but I know I have felt confident that we made the right choice.  I have never looked at our washer and dryer and thought, ‘We made a mistake by going cheap.’  We considered buying our washer at one store and our dryer at another.  “Matching appliances” that were to end up in the basement or the laundry room or the spare bedroom were never a big concern for us.  However, the particular washer and dryer that we purchased in our first year of marriage just… well… they just seemed to go together, kind of like a newly-wed couple.
.
.
.

Happy Washer

Happy Dryer
.
.
.

Mr. Washer and Mrs. Dryer have been with the wife and me through thick and thin.  Whether they were cleaning the bedding and lingerie of a newly-wed couple, sitting in storage while the wife and I hopped apartments in Denver, cleaning the tiny clothes of our firstborn, cleaning dog hair off of everything after we received our family’s first dog, cleaning up the spit-up of our second-born, cleaning up the spit-up of our second-born, cleaning up the spit-up of our second-born (oh, the joys of a RSV-prone and mucous-filled child), or preparing the daily garb of a laundry-producing family of four people and one dog in present day; Mr. Washer and Mrs. Dryer have always tried to be good to us.  I have spent many a late night sitting downstairs watching T.V. or pecking on the computer, while Mr. Washer scrubs the whites and Mrs. Dryer fluffs the darks.

Listening to the two of them in harmony could be quite … err… interesting?!?  While Mr. Washer went into spin cycle and Mrs. Dryer tumbled her load round-and-round, there unison motions often caught my attention.  Mr. Washer would spin, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, shaking the stillness of the basement with his urgency.  Mrs. Dryer kept the same unison pace throughout, yet I sensed that they were working toward a common goal.  Finally, Mr. Washer, at a frenzied speed in search of some extraordinary outcome… stopped spinning.  I could tell he was spent.  Mrs. Dryer usually continued on, searching for her own “mission complete” banner.  Every once in awhile, the two of them would reach their goal at the same time: Mr. Washer’s final spin cycle quickly grinding to a halt as Mrs. Dryer’s buzzing high-pitched alarm screamed that her load was complete.  It was kind of exotic and erotic, in a very blue-collar and… uh…  pervy kind of way… probably like the erotic encounters of most married couples 🙂

Mr. Washer started having issues a little over a year ago.  He really wobbled when he went into the spin cycle, and we knew that something was wrong.  Finally, he just gave out.  Every time I tried to start a new load, he would just hum.  I tried my best to get him working on my own… which, with my mechanical expertise, resulted in several swift kicks to his nether-regions.
.
.
.
Sick Washer
.
.
.
Mrs. Washer did not seem to approve.
.
.
.
Mad Dryer
.
.
.

Nothing I did (i.e. no matter how hard I kicked) worked.  We finally called an appliance repairman.  Like $50 later, some doohickey was replaced and Mr. Washer has been working like a champ ever since!
.
.
.
Happy Washer
.
.
.

Mrs. Dryer has been in a state of decline ever since we moved into our new house over two years ago.  It seems her heating element has been going out… or something.  It used to be that we could throw a wet load into her and, within a multitude of mere minutes, she would have it dry.  Recently, it would take a second, and sometimes third, cycle to actually remove all moisture from a load of clothes.  Apparently, she had come down with something… something terminal.  Finally, a few nights ago, she wouldn’t work at all.  I threw a load of wet mass into her, closed her door, pushed the “start” button, and… nothing.
.
.
.
Sick Dryer
.
.
.

Crap!

I figured, initially, that this was something I could fix… given my exemplary track-record with fixing major appliances and all.  I gave her several swift kicks.  Although the kicks did nothing to spur her into action, I did seem to notice several sever looks-of-reproach from Mr. Washer.
.
.
.
Mad Washer
.
.
.

Ignoring the ire of her spouse, I decided to perform a little surgery.

I think I’ve already mentioned this, but my mechanical skills are a little lacking.  I blame my lack of ability on the fact that I don’t have the proper tools.  Convincing the wife that I needed to add to my haphazard tool collection, I headed to… Walmart… and bought a multimeter.  Armed with the necessary tool to assess Mrs. Washer’s condition, I started the procedure.

First, I tested the actual outlet she plugged into.  As the multimeter’s needle sprung to action with the insertion of the red thingie and the black thingie into  the slots that we are taught from early childhood not to stick anything into, my heart raced.  I realized that between my fingers raced enough electricity to kill the average mortal.  Feeling slightly immortal through my discovery, I proceeded to the removing-of-the-screws on the back of Mrs. Dryer.  Leaving the appliance plugged in, I proceeded to test this and that… not knowing exactly what I was testing, but feeling exilerated that I was playing with something with which I shouldn’t.  Not finding a clue as to the current condition plaguing Mrs. Washer, I unplugged her, turned the multimeter device to the “ohm” setting, and continued with my examination.

The ohm setting apparently tests the connection through different electrical components of a system without the necessity of outside electricity… or something.  The multimeter’s AA battery provides everything one needs.  All of a sudden, I’m not a general surgeon… I’m a “specialist”, as I test this component and that.  I become increasingly disheartened as my search proves more and more futile.  The wife recommends that we just purchase a new dryer.  I remind the wife that Mr. Washer was fixed for next-to-nothing and recommend that we try the same with Mrs. Dryer.  The wife points out that the average appliance lasts about 15 years, Mrs. Dryer is over said 15 years, and that we could really use a dryer with a little more capacity to dry our increasing quantity of clothes and linen-type-stuff as our boys grow.  Feeling like I had let Mrs. Dryer (and Mr. Washer as well) down, I somberly agree.  Mrs. Washer has fulfilled her purpose and her time had past…
.
.
.
Dryer... Done
.
.
.

Mr. Dryer was devastated…
.
.
.
Sad Washer
.
.
.

After quick visits to all of the major local appliance places, we settle on a nice Maytag that Home Depot was offering at clearance prices.  We brought her home, plugged her in, and tried her out.  She works great.  She gets hotter than Mrs. Dryer ever did.  The new dryer is sleek, shiny, and has great capacity.  We like her a lot. She may have been “cheap”, but you could never tell that from her appearance!
.
.
.
Hot, young Dryer
.
.
.

Okay, maybe her appearance screams “cheap”… but only in the softest of screams.

At first, I was afraid that Mr. Washer would hold some contempt towards our newest appliance.  However, I think he’s coming around 🙂
.
.
.
JOYOUS Washer
.
.
.
In fact, this is the happiest I have seen Mr. Washer in a long time. His spin cycle seems to be a little faster and he cleans better than he has in years… and I can’t quite seem to figure out why…
.
.
.
uh... unfit couple?
.
.
.
Appliances… go figure?

Origin of Species… or at least of Testicals!

The garden was especially peaceful on this day.  The air was warm and calm as the sun shed it’s midday light amongst the dense,  prismatic vegetation.  Adam, leaning against a large rock in the shade of a dragon’s blood tree, watched a distant tyrannosaurus rex just outside the garden feed on a wooly mammoth.

‘Glad those things aren’t allowed in the garden,’ thought Adam.

A rustle of brush behind Adam announced the arrival of Eve with the midday meal.  Adam loved Eve, and he loved the fruit she harvested for the midday meal each day.

“What’d you bring today, Hon?” Adam asked.  “Mango… I hope you brought some mango today.”

“Something even better,” replied Eve, blushing.  “I brought something new.”

Adam had never seen Eve blush before.  “Why are your cheeks turning red?”

“Uh, ’cause you’re naked,” Eve said.  She handed the golden fruit in her hand to Adam and immediately went to the nearest fig tree.  Grabbing a couple of fig leaves, she covered her “womanly” parts.

“What are you doing?”  Adam asked.

“Try the fruit and you’ll see.”

“Why are you covering the parts of yourself that make you different from me?” Adam asked.

“Try the fruit and you’ll see.”

Adam looked at the golden fruit in his hand.  Other than the single bite taken from it, the fruit was unblemished.

“Where did you get this?” Adam asked.

Eve pointed to the south and, realizing that her woman-parts were exposed, quickly put the fig leaf back in its protective position.

“Over there,” Eve said, nodding to the south with her head.

“I’ve been south and I have never seen a fruit like this.”

“Oh, it’s there alright,” Eve said.  “The serpent showed it to me.”

“The serpent?” asked Adam.  “The freaky long thing with no arms or legs that slithers along the ground with the fangs and stuff?”

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, okay, cool,” said Adam as he started to take a bite.  As the fruit approached his lips, his brow began to furrow.  The fruit froze inches from his mouth.  “Hey, this isn’t from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, is it?”

“Well of course not,” said Eve.  “We were expressly forbidden from eating that fruit.”

Adam furrowed his brow further and, hand on hip, glared at Eve.

“Okay, maybe it’s from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.”

“Maybe?” asked Adam.  “What, you have a death wish or something?  We were expressly forbidden from eating this fruit or we will die.”

“Or touching it,” said Eve.

“What’s that?” Adam asked, his eyes growing wide.

“Or touching it,” repeated Eve.  “We were forbidden from eating it or even touching it.”

Adam looked from Eve to the fruit in his hand.  “Crap.”

“You might as well try it,” Eve said.  “You already touched it, so if God is gonna kill me he’s gonna kill you too.  You might as well get a taste of it.”

“You lied to me,” Adam said.  “You… you…” and because Adam had yet to actually take a bite of the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, he could think of none of the really good words to scorn her with, “you… stinker!”

Adam looked at the fruit in his hand and, although he had lost his appetite, he took a bite.  As the sweet flesh of the fruit burst to juice in his mouth, Adam realized that he was naked.  He ran to the fig tree and grabbed a leaf.

A-HEM!” came from the sky… and the ground… and everywhere.

“Crap,” whispered Adam, “it’s God!”  Adam grabbed Eve by the wrist and forced her down in the bushes as he climbed in beside her.

Why are you hiding?” asked God.

“I heard you coming and didn’t want you to see me naked,” said Adam.

Who told you you were naked,” asked God.  “Have you eaten from the tree I warned you about?”

This is all your fault,” Adam whispered to Eve, elbowing her in the side. “Yes, but it was the woman you gave me who who brought me some, and I ate it.”

How could you do such a thing?” Eve felt the voice of God against her flesh as goosebumps rose on her body against the vibrations of His words.

“The serpent tricked me,” she replied.

God rolled His eyes.  Then God started doling out punishment for the serpent.

Meanwhile, Adam stared at Eve.  Adam was sure that God would take his side on this matter.  After all, Adam had been tricked by that stupid Eve to touch the fruit.  Eve, succumbing to the long, seductive form of the serpent, had sold them both up the river.  ‘Plus, she lied to me,’ thought Adam.  Of course, he still took a bite of the forbidden fruit… all on his own with no physical coercion.  Like most of the men to follow him, however, Adam  decided at this point in time that he was going to do everything within his power to blame every ill in his life on the sex bore of his rib… and all men to follow fell to Adam’s fate.

Adam started to listen to the punishment appropriated for the serpent, and he realized that Eve and all of womankind was being punished just as much as the serpent.  God then directed punishment to Eve and all of womankind.

You shall bear children in intense pain and suffering; yet even so, you shall welcome your husband’s affections, and he shall be your master.”

Adam snickered.  Eve was getting her due.  Adam felt pardoned; he felt that God had forgiven the sins that Eve had led him to.  Adam felt that silly little women was getting her just desserts, and Eve and all of her ilk would, throughout eternity, pay for the dishonest lies of the first woman taken from the rib of the man!  Adam smiled.

…and then Adam felt The ShiftThe Shift was the formation of two oval-shaped appendages springing suddenly from the groinish-area of Adam’s loin.

“What the…” Adam exclaimed as his hand fell to the new addition of his outward appearance.

These, dear Adam, in addition to the life of sin and the need for repentance that lie ahead in your and your descendant’s miserable little lives, are a reminder of the affront to My name that you have allowed here today,” said God.

“But Eve…” said Adam.

Yes, Eve has done much wrong,” said God.  “But Eve is also in a vulnerable position when compared to you, my dear Adam.  She is not as physically strong as you, and she is more emotionally unstable than you.  So, in order to offset the differences between you and her, I am allowing the ‘dropping of the balls’.

“The dropping of the what?” asked Adam.

The balls… those things swinging about your fig-leaf-covered groin,” said God.

Adam touched the balls and asked, “Where did they come from?”

They were attached to the appendix and were a significant force in the ability of humankind to remain immortal,” said God.  “They will still play a significant role in the future of humankind, but having organs that were meant to be protected deep inside of the male body suddenly exposed for all of the natural world to rape… oh, woe it is to be ‘man’.

Eve and all of womankind are relegated to a position of inferiority and complacency when compared to man.  Of course, the feminists will come along and try to disparage these facts,” said God.  “The balls will act as an equalizing force in the battle between the sexes.  The feminists will see the balls as a sign of repression and weakness and will strike against them.  The insecure woman will see the balls as a sign of power through which they will struggle to find their own identity.  The average woman will see the balls as a comical extrusion from the male body and America’s Funniest Home Videos will be born!

America’s Funniest Home Videos,” whimpered Adam.

Oh, my son,” laughed God.  “The balls will be both your best friend and your worst enemy.  And you will provide to all of humankind more laughs through your balls than you could ever, throughout a thousand lifetimes, imagine.”

Adam looked at the protrusion from his groin and whimpered.  Surely this all had to be some sort of horrific joke.  Suddenly, Eve grabed Adam’s balls with her clenched fist.  She tugged once, softly, and said, “You ready to go start our new life of sin together?”

“Screw you!” exclaimed Adam.  He was going to have no part of this new life of sin and regret.

Eve squeezed and pulled at the new appendage between her fingers.  Nausea fell upon Adam’s being; from the tip of his toes to the top of his head, he felt pain as Eve pulled at his balls and led him in the direction she desired.

And so it has been ever since…

Yeah, probably not entirely Biblically correct, but his is how I see it going down.  Much more believable than evolution, isn’t it?  🙂