Hello, darlings. Have you not gotten your Edwaaaaaaaard fix today? Well, I bring you something that is most curious, and even weirder than the Hot Topic crap that features Edwaaaaaaard's name these days. Hey 15-year-olds! You wanna buy a car?
I wasn't too much older than my kids are now when I had one of the great formative experiences of my youth: the original broadcast of the miniseries V in 1983. To call it awesome was to understate the nature of awesomeness — giant spaceships, alien subterfuge, the Beastmaster hisself fighting for the forces of good, and HOT ALIEN BABES WHO EAT RATS. For those of us who sat rapt with attention for night after night after night of this true miniseries event (remember when they had those? and it actually meant something?) watching this stuff unfold, it was life-changing stuff.
As an extension of MamaPop's ongoing effort to bring you the best in wholesome, family-friendly fun, we'd like to offer you the following list of some of our favorite murderous psychopaths. Some you may know, some you may not... but all of them deserve a very dark, twisted and frightening part of your life.
When I was a boy, my parents would sometimes send me, usually late at night, down the hill behind our small farmhouse to close the chicken coop. Fucking foxes would eat the chickens, other, less carnivorous animals would eat the eggs. So, there's my 9-10 year old self, flashlight in hand and a silent scream in my throat. Legs tense, ready to bolt at the fist sign of the Boogieman or Frankenstein Monster or the crazy, toothless guy that sold firewood around the area. It was commonly know that he ate children. That didn't stop us from pelting his old beat up truck with snowballs in the winter though. Everyone knows that child-eaters fear a well packed snowball. It's their Kryptonite.
In a stunning piece of news that might've slipped beneath your usually impeccable radar, it's October. I'm not even kidding — you could look it up. In even more stunning news, the end of October means Hallowe'en, a night of trick-or-treating fun and stupid-ass parents who like to pretend they're stuffed scarecrows sitting in a chair next to the front steps until some cute little kid comes along and suddenly they jump up and scream bloody terrifying murder and scare the living bejeezus out of some sweet boy or girl who's been waiting all year to go out as a fairy princess or Superman. I fucking hate those parents.
What were we talking about? Oh, right... Hallowe'en, October... blah blah blah. More pertinently, October is the month where all right-thinking Americans (and the occasional right-thinking Canadian) choose to celebrate the dimming of the day and the fleeting popular embrace of ghosts, witches, demonic were-creatures and other critters not usually welcomed into genteel society by engaging in the time-honored tradition of watching lots and lots of horror movies. Why? Because, unlike children, we can make the conscious choice to be scared — because we understand and experience it as entertainment, as 90 minutes of escapist fun that frees us from the dreary bonds of our day-to-day and provides us with the vicarious thrill of gambling with our lives.
Yesterday, Scrubs star and Garden State writer/director Zach Braff became the latest victim in a series of web slayings. This year has brought many visits from the Grim Reaper, some of them real, some of them completely fabricated, and thankfully Braff's RIP post, like Jeff Goldblum's earlier this year, was complete bunkum.
In order to calm fans upset by his untimely demise, Zach Braff issued an "I'm not dead yet!" post on Facebook and the following video statement:
I've heard whispers about this movie for a while. Called the next Blair Witch Project and already rife with lore such as how it scared the crap out of Steven Spielberg to such a degree that he was convinced there was something actually demonic about his DVD screener, the thing looks it might be the genuine, terrifying article.
Trailer after the jump. You might wanna brace yourself a little.
The Expendables is pretty much the best movie ever for celebrating all-male ensemble casts that you don't have to be gay to appreciate, but just maybe that helps a little bit, because everyone ends up shooting things in slow motion and tearing their shirts off and making patently misogynistic social commentary because HAHAHAHHA! Aren't women silly? They can't fight off terrorists! They love to shop!
Even modern-day cryptids cannot escape the all-seeing eye of those blasted satellites. They're like the new paparazzi, snapping images of a pissed-off Bigfoot who's all, I'M JUST GETTING A GODDAMN LATTE. LEAVE ME ALONE.
Unbelievable, unconfutable evidence after the jump!
It would all make a fantastic CSI episode, and I'm sure it will be one, as soon as they can get a script.
The remains of model Jasmine Fiore were identified using the serial numbers on her breast implants, and the international manhunt for the lead suspect in her murder continues, Authorities have deduced that Ryan Jenkins walked across the Washington/Canadian border to flee authorities. Jenkins' body was found today.
Ryan Jenkins was a contestant on VH1's reality show Megan Wants A Millionaire, and the upcoming VH1 show I Love Money 3. Both shows have been cancelled in light of the arrest warrant.
I always knew reality contestants were shady, but could this guy really be a murderer?
this story has been updated after the jump
I just got back from the premier of District 9, (but it was only the premier in that it was the first time I watched it, not the actual tuxedo one that I NEVER seem to get invited to) and I really have no idea what I just watched. Or whether or not I liked it. I think I did. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did. I might have to get back to you on that one. Also I'm not sure how to categorize it. Is Surgery Channel-Sci-Fi-Fake Documentary-Horror a category? Because if it is, this movie is getting the fucking Oscar. Because it was definitely the best one of those I've ever seen.
Celebrities are funny creatures. They have fine designer clothing worth tens of thousands of dollars that people are constantly asking about with cries of, "who are you wearing?" Yet so many seem to have trouble actually wearing those clothes when there's a camera around. This week brought us never-before-seen nude photos of Twilight's Ashley Greene and High School Musical's Vanessa Hudgens, with both actresses crying foul and "thief."
If there's a massive rotting whale carcass filling up 42" of HD glory in my living room, that can only mean one of two things:
• Something has gone terribly, terribly wrong on Backyardigans; or
• SHARK WEEK, BABY!
This annual and much-beloved tribute to the ocean's alpha predators gives us the freedom to safely face one of mankind's most deep-set and primal fears - that of being eaten alive by a massive, passionless predatory animal to whom we are little more than khaki-clad kibbles and bits - and marvel at their staggering power, grace and appetite.
Of course, given that the Discovery Channel is a valued and respected source of educational programming, it's important to view Shark Week through the lens of sober and thoughtful edification: what can we learn from this, the holiest of all weeks?
Some people equate summer with sunshine, warm weather and good times. These people are stupid. Summer, as all right-thinking humans know, is the time when we all take to the water to redress the humid press of days... and, in the process, confront the inevitability of being eaten alive by giant, bloodthirsty sharks. It's not a question of if: it's a question of when. Every time you go in the water, a tiny little dinner bell goes off in the brain of every shark within a 400 mile radius (for our Canadian friends, that equates to roughly 10,000 km). Obviously, if you're going in the ocean you might as well be basting yourself in a particularly savory marinade (hint: sharks love cocoa butter) but realistically you're not safe anywhere. Rivers, lakes, ponds, backyard plastic kiddie pools: all shark-infested deathtraps.
In what appears to be the continuation of some kind of crazy curse on Ozzy Osbourne's dogs, Little Bit, Osbourne's treasured Pomeranian, was killed last Tuesday, July 7th.
Little Bit's death comes after another of Osbourne's dogs, Goldie, was bitten by a rattlesnake earlier in the year. Goldie narrowly escaped death and, apart from being extremely bummed out about Little Bit, is doing fine.
Little Bit, however, is not doing fine. Because, as I reported earlier, Little Bit is dead. As the Osbourne's watched the Michael Jackson memorial, poor Little Bit was attacked and eaten by a coyote in the backyard.
The Osbourne's live in Los Angeles. Am I alone in wondering what the fuck is up with all the wildlife attacks at Osbourne's Los Angeles residence?
The Osbourne's are not blaming Jackson. And they have no leads as to who might have put a curse on their dogs. I know what you're thinking. Some of Osbourne's friends are thinking the same thing.
A bunch of scientists from Australia got bored with studying the mating patterns of koala bears or studying how high kangaroos jump or whatever - maybe they just ran out of issues in Australia that required the explanatory power of science. That could happen, you know? As a result of our insatiable rage for knowledge, we might just run out of things to know.
So they said "Fuck it" and watched 400 episodes of The Simpsons. Which is what I do when I can't think of anything new to discover.
Then I don't really get how it works. Do scientists have bosses? Who's the boss of Truth? I'm not sure. But I imagine one of the Australian scientists saying "We just watched 400 episodes of The Simpsons. What're we gonna tell the Science Boss?" Then another one says "DOH!" and then another one says "You know what? There were 795 instances of smoking in those 400 episodes."
I recently sat down with Megan Fox in her sprawling library (see left) to interview the stunning Transformers star. OK that's a total lie. Because you know: books. But I'm lying about the interview too. See. Normally, interviewers lie about what people actually say. But I lie about the whole interview itself. Because MamaPop is a groundbreaking collective of Pop Culture reporting that pushes the boundaries of lying and deception. Anyway, I interviewed Megan Fox in her library (nudge nudge) and she assaulted me with pearl after pearl of luminous wisdom. It was like she had an automatic pearl weapon of mass wisdom and she was like ratta-tatta-tatta with the wisdom. She blew my face off with wisdom.
Interview is after the jump. It's actually a collage of things that Megan Fox has actually (I'm serious) said (genuine quotes are in italics) in various recent interviews. Let me repeat: yes, she really said these things. Just not to me. But that doesn't detract from their profundity.
MAMAPOP IS SMART POP CULTURE ANALYSIS, COMMENTARY, MERCILESS FUN-MAKING AND OTHER SUNDRY AWESOME, DISHED UP DAILY BY PARENTS, FOR PARENTS, AND ANYONE ELSE WHO UNDERSTANDS THAT PLAYTIME IS BETTER WITH VODKA. PLEASE TO ENJOY. READ MORE...
