Until I get all of your skulls, posters will have to do...

...for wall decorations.



One of my most-favoritest-ever people on Twitter is the lovely and talented RonnieWK, who is a must-follow -  she's so double-plus funny she doesn't even need to be pretty (but oh my god she is - call me weird but I think that may be my favorite picture of a human being) and was almost elected National Lampoon's Most Offensive Female on Twitter (although the winner was definitely worthy of all acolades, I still think Ronnie wuz robbed!).  She also runs a highly-addictive blog, Radmobile, where you'll find extremely weird 'n' funny pictures by the godzillions.  She's also always been a sweetheart in my limited interactions with her, which not everyone on Twitter will take the time to do.   So, I full-on-raging recommend that you visit all those links and follow/bookmark/all that stuff to improve your life before you die miserable in a puddle of your own befoulment!  Anyway, back on point:  recently she posted a picture of one of her walls, sporting a kick-ass collection of primo horror posters.  Gotta love anybody with Make Them Die Slowly featured in their den.  I told her it reminded me of mine, so she told me to show 'em... and, since I always try to do what cool chicks tell me to, here 'tiz!

First, my house isn't nearly as neat as hers, or as well-presented.  I'm incredibly lazy and sloppy and hoarder-ific (if you could see the mountains of VHS tapes/skulls/boxes/assorted weirdo ephemera that are out of frame in these pics, you'd scream and call that TV show and tell them to send their SWAT team after my ass), so my posters aren't nicely matted like Ronnie's.  I think I got some fairly cool shit, though, and, this being Halloween, I thought ya'll might like a tour.  The two huge ones I ordered through the mail, and the others I scored for about a buck each from a comic book store in the 80's that had no idea what they had.  The pictures may come out small, but click on it and it'll get bigger (as the farmer said to the milkmaid *rimshot!*).  If my long-winded Captain Obvious act bores ya, just skip me look at the pitchers!

There's the infamous zombie gorefest Burial Ground, with a poster for Something Waits In The Dark, aka Screamers and Isle of the Fishmen.  You can see the edge of my massive Devil's Rain poster, and assorted lil' things I tore out of video magazines that a video bootlegger friend used to send to my dogs. (Yes, he signed my dogs up as owners of a video store and had them send me promo publications).  These things have all been gummy-stuck to that wall since around 1990.  Look close and you'll see a postcard of George Bush I flipping a bird that I thought was punk-rock enough to stick up there with the horror stuff.  He doesn't seem nearly as bad now that we met his idiot son, though.  He's almost... quaint.  In the stacks around you can make out my beloved VHS of Messiah Of Evil, (go watch that if you haven't!) Assonitis's Madhouse, a really old Goodtimes tape of Scream Baby Scream, and I dunno what-all.  There used to be a Tombs of The Blind Dead poster under Burial Ground but it fell down behind the TV and I haven't fished it back up out of the giant nest of cables.

And, yes, that's right, my walls are fucking purple.  I've got another room where the walls and ceiling are black. I don't decorate - I defile!

Onward...

The Devil's Rain poster is HUGE, the same size as the Suspiria one I'll show ya in a minute. The picture is beautiful, but the text makes no sense.  "Heaven help us all when THE DEVIL'S RAIN!"  When the Devil's Rain does... what?  Falls?  Then I'd understand it.  That text is like a little papercut on my mind, that is. Anyway, there it is, the movie that made John Travolta get wet!  Then he went from devil-worship to something far more frightening and detrimental - Scientology.  Heaven help us all when XENU RAINS!  Yeeaarrggh.  Even William Shatner can't save us from that.  Anyway, next to it, Fulci's gutmuncher, The Gates of Hell, known to the DVD generation as City of the Living Dead.  Below it is a little video-two-sheet for Terror, aka Last House On The Beach, that was sent to me by the same old video bootlegger friend of mine.  Last time I heard from him, he was in some trouble with the Mafia for selling dupes of some of their porn.  Oi.  I bought Scooter Trash from him, so I guess the Sons of Anarchy'd be after me. In the corner you can see part of my Tales From The Crypt poster, hiding behind some ancient stereo equipment and a stack of VHS.  Here's a better look at that...

 Ronnie's got a different version of this poster.  I'm not sure what the story is on why there are different ones, but I like the one I got because it matches the Bantam paperback I've had since I was five.

Here's the back:

When I was in first grade I was reading at pretty much a high-school level, and I got in trouble for bringing this book to school.  While the other kids were watching Dick & Jane run after Spot and Sally, I was reading the killer-Santa-Claus story.  Later my grandma caught me reading The Exorcist.  I don't think it did me any damage, though, really.  "Let Jesus fuck you!" was pretty much how I was viewing Southern Baptist society, anyway. 

On the bookshelf there you can spot some VHS... an El Topo pre-rec I scored somewhere, a bootleg of Love Camp Seven, ultra-gory Spaghetti Western Cutthroats 9, Splatter: The Architects of Fear, The House That Vanished, and Succubus, which is a retitle of The Devil's Nightmare.

Anyway, back to the walls...

Giant Suspiria (plagued by glare).  That thing's pretty much the size of a mattress.  On the window frame you can see a lil' collage of mini-pictures I put up there in the 80's.  I Spit On Your Grave, Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS, Slaughterhouse, Lady Frankenstein, and above the curtain you can see part of magazine ads for the punk-rock Western Dudes, and a bit of Anguish.   Most of the shelves are empty (while the floors are piled - I make no sense) but you can spot home-dubs of stuff like Christina Applegate's Streets (why is this still not on DVD?), grindhouse sleaze classic Headless Eyes (Code Red, bring us that one!), Conqueror Worm, Pet Sematery, The Girl Hunters, and... The Battleship Potempkin.  (Yeah, sometimes I watch stuff that's not splatter).

On the back of the door to the room I got... Infra-Man! 

To your left there's a torn poster for Midnight, aka Backwoods Masscare, the John Russo splatterfest.  And you can see a corner of a My Bloody Valentine (original, not remake) poster that I really need to repair one of these days, because I freakin' love that movie.  And there used to be a poster for Death Ship above that, but I'm not sure where that one went.  Somewhere in the house are also posters for Holy Terror (aka Alice Sweet Alice), the Italian Road-Warrior rip-off Styker, schoolgirl-by-day, Hollywood-hooker-by-night classic Angel and its sequel Avenging Angel, and one of those six-foot-tall Vampirellas they used to sell in the back of Famous Monsters.   Oh, and the Chinese thing to the left... I don't know what that says, but my mom taught college and one of her students gave her that and I thought it was cool so she gave it to me.  There's a lot of Chinese stuff scattered through the room.  And a good many knives.

Elsewhere on the walls of the room (not pictured) are ads my lil' punk-rock self doctored, like an old Buck Cigarettes ad that I Liquid-Papered so it read "FUCK THE SYSTEM!" and another sign that read "WORSHIP AT THE CHURCH OF OUR CHOICE THIS WEEK."  (It originally said "YOUR" but I trimmed the Y out to more accurately reflect the knifefight interactions I'd experienced from my Baptist "friends.").

Now, as a bonus for sitting through all that, and in the spirit of Radmobile that inspired this post in the first place, here are some covers of actual comic books I scanned out of a book for ya.  No, I haven't ever actually seen or read any of 'em, but an old T-shirt company called Mutilation Graphics used to sell a Leather Nun shirt I was really tempted to buy back in the 80's.  You'll have to click Teen Age Romances to find out what's so funny about it.

And, speaking of Twitter, you can let Zwolf fuck you!  (by telling you stupid jokes about pee and farts and Rascal Scooters and mimeograph paper and stuff - you know, the same way Jesus does it).  And while you're there, follow our Blowhole buddy, Kicker of Elves, who's a highlight of my timeline every day and can be one of yours.  It's all free like a punch in the face! 

One day I'm just gonna do a big Twitter post and tell ya'll everybody you should follow.  Which is, basically, my whole follow-list.  Good people on that.  You cannot go wrong giving any of 'em a test-drive.

And, stay tuned to this blog 'cuz in just a couple weeks you're gonna be getting horror short stories by yours truly and (hopefully) these other guys, too.  Also, free!