Yeah, so… who HASN’T had to “go to the closet” at some point in their lives? Poor Carrie above only has those telekinetic powers and a nutso mommy to worry about. I know us folks in the real world need to toss ourselves in and shut the door for a while when we pull off those major boners and need a time out while the walls fall in. Say, did you know a nice clean closet with a few blankets tossed on the floor and lots of long coats and shirts and such makes a PERFECT nap spot? Bill collectors, pissed off parents and anyone else can look up and down and all around for you but that’s THE last place they’ll ever, ever look. Of course, if you have a pet at home, you’re screwed plus tax, as those cute little bums will always sniff you out. Hell, you could have the most stoned out, never ever fetched a darn thing in its life lazy ass Scooby-Don’t as a pet and as soon as you get into that closet, he’s nosing open the door to lay on top of those blankets you’re under. Bad dog! BAD!
Um, oh yeah… Carrie is in theaters October 18. I can’t see it because I have no movie theater near me now. Maybe I’ll go take a nap in the closet instead…







Since we’re in the 17-year cycle of cicada “season” (and not a one has popped up around here thanks to it being too cold AND the fact that all that deep digging heavy landscaping work in the area over the past two plus years has probably mashed a few hundred million eggs but good), I figured I’d reminisce about this rather wild 1982 horror flick that’s either really good or really awful depending on your tastes. I paid to see The Beast Within on its initial release and along with a few friends, ended up sitting in a coffee shop afterward discussing how underwhelmed, amused and bored we were by this so-called shocker.