Could this shallow existence be any less interesting? I think not.
I have spent the last 24 hours watching horribly dubbed, horribly transferred, horribly filmed Italian horror movies from the 1960's. Truly, these horrible films are a gift to us from the gods themselves. Are there any women on the face of this pathetic sphere hotter than Italian women? No. No, there are not. Great bone structure, great hair, and I swear not a one of 'em less than a C-cup. Flawless.
Gods damn, I am fucking pig, aren't I?
So its that time of year, when boring, conservative types like to dip their toes into the hellish pastimes folks like myself enjoy 24/7/365. With that in mind, I feel it both my duty and honor to recommend a few under-appreciated horror films to the pathetic masses, in hopes that a handful of the braying sheep might actually value them:
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The Wicker Man: Wonderful little story about a group of fine, upstanding pagans who are forced to hide their true natures from a nosey fucking Xtian, whom they eventually sacrifice to the Goddess for a good apple harvest. Starring a non-fanged Christopher Lee, a non-naked Ingrid Pitt, and a fine pair of knockers owned and maintained by a chick named Britt Eckland. I'm being a snot about it, of course, but its a damn fine and disturbing movie, though I am pretty sure it was intended more to give the good Xtians the willies, rather than for a heathen to cheer at.
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The Bloody Pit of Horror: Italian horror cinema at it...errrr...weirdest. Basically, a bunch of dumb assholes break into an old castle to take some pictures for the covers of trashy horror novels, then find out the castle is actually the home of some well-tanned, oily bodybuilder and his coterie of bodybuilding henchmen. This flick features a few pretty hot babes, some mild and wild lethal BDSM, and some pretty homoerotic imagery. So, you know, its really more of a
family film. Talk about mixed messages. Still, Mickey Hargitay is the funniest motherfucker to ever leap around in a pair of red tights brutally torturing hot chicks to death like a damn kid on Xmas morning, and its worth seeing that alone. No tits, but there it features what might be the strangest contraption for slowly peeling off a woman's bra (and her flesh) ever captured on film.
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Horror Hotel aka
The City of the Dead: More Christopher Lee goodness, still no fangs, but a nice atmosphere. Also stars Patricia Jessel, whose name you probably don't recognize, but trust me, if you have ever watched any 50's/60's B-flicks, you know who she is. She actually kicked the bucket just a few years after this flick was made, so if yer a superstitious dumbass maybe you can make something outta that. Anyway, Some dumb college chick gets sacrificed by a coven, and hijinks ensue. Kinda got a
Psycho vibe, but without the drag queen element, and a supernatural twist.
So, gety off yer hairy asses and track 'em down. More forthcoming.
