tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32488575787938681222024-02-07T05:11:31.866-05:00Coiled PleasuresCelebrating traditional American style, fly-fishing, and Le Cinema PfuiUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger540125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-47960370865877090112015-02-24T12:27:00.000-05:002015-02-24T12:27:05.131-05:00Forwarding addressFarewell, High Sheriffs of Google — you brainless rat bastards.<br />
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Coiled Pleasures is now at WordPress, with a bounty of bazongas, brownies and buttondowns.<br />
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http://coiledpleasures.com/Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-26182814759654881942015-02-23T16:16:00.003-05:002015-02-23T16:30:36.868-05:00Attack of the High Sheriffs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zQfUrOnT1ArAQ6uB9n0NwEkPHYWI0-nwCou19AgiK1FTgdhLPGxm02egN-P6X9fj9Hy6dM9dvuQvmKmPo3spKIGSf66ndVqBHQ-eMRtG0ISFSzYiMdt9j-t24AYBfjLsyd0HHeDX9Ms/s1600/LLXf1EW.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zQfUrOnT1ArAQ6uB9n0NwEkPHYWI0-nwCou19AgiK1FTgdhLPGxm02egN-P6X9fj9Hy6dM9dvuQvmKmPo3spKIGSf66ndVqBHQ-eMRtG0ISFSzYiMdt9j-t24AYBfjLsyd0HHeDX9Ms/s1600/LLXf1EW.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Joe Bob Briggs used to refer to the forces of darkness at the Dallas Times-Herald as the High Sheriffs, and while that paper is long gone, the impulse to be a high sheriff is stronger than ever.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Witness this announcement I just received from Google:</span><br />
<b><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><br /></span></i></b>
<b><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">In the coming weeks, we'll no longer allow blogs that contain sexually explicit or graphic nude images or video. We'll still allow nudity presented in artistic, educational, documentary, or scientific contexts, or where there are other substantial benefits to the public from not taking action on the content.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The new policy will go into effect on the 23rd of March 2015</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">. After this policy goes into effect, Google will restrict access to any blog identified as being in violation of our revised policy. No content will be deleted, but only blog authors and those with whom they have expressly shared the blog will be able to see the content we've made private.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Our records indicate that your account may be affected by this policy change. Please refrain from creating new content that would violate this policy. Also, we ask that you make any necessary changes to your existing blog to comply as soon as possible, so that you won't experience any interruptions in service.</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><br /></span></i></b>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Now, while it is true that I frequently post screen shots from films, and those screen shots often contain some d</span><span style="background-color: white;">egree of nekkidity, it is always presented in a highly </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">artistic, educational, documentary, or scientific context — so much so I want to puke.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">So some busybody years ago decided to flag "Coiled Pleasures," and now this. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Well, fuck'em. See that, Google? Piss off, you brainless rodents. I'll take this show elsewhere.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>This is okay:</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>This is not:</b></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGzt9Y0rC-CizTJuDjyHj24jsNOfMKx3iEGQFBxzyq4lDq0LyAsg0nUV6Jbc_3mYIxazA9CiByA1V3xjAXVkqMRA2Ww56GNaHOxkP9H6rlG88ma14mFXgTQTbLmgYo81FbPeADgGbK3s/s1600/url.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGzt9Y0rC-CizTJuDjyHj24jsNOfMKx3iEGQFBxzyq4lDq0LyAsg0nUV6Jbc_3mYIxazA9CiByA1V3xjAXVkqMRA2Ww56GNaHOxkP9H6rlG88ma14mFXgTQTbLmgYo81FbPeADgGbK3s/s1600/url.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-34566197273453016862015-02-18T08:51:00.002-05:002015-02-18T08:51:36.487-05:00Hi, I'm Fat Slob. How Do You Do?So it's been snowy and cold and generally miserable this winter. Plus I am about 20 pounds overweight, so three-quarters of my stuff doesn't fit.<br />
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This does: a two button Brooks sack jacket, Lands End cotton sweater vest, J. Press red uni stripe oxford and tie, LL Bean lined Chinos, Hanna cap and Allen Edmonds Eagle River boots with a Vibram lug sole. And a <a href="http://jpressonline.com/winter-gear/">J. Press lambswool scarf</a> (which they are giving away at the moment, by the way).<br />
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Okay, that's it. Off to the gym! And then to see "50 Shades of Grey"! Gee whiz!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHiYngn7xam0wcH5-1LaqJ8u-WDHNeUGH_NrO5E1zxq-8AGPIVoddntUkV2D__593dRkgnnBQhOWQ5Qsu5ohlzxYoUfvmQS9Jy43SBQdG54-K0UFtqw43JkR6g_dp9byWG-_i67dKKN4/s1600/DSCF1494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHiYngn7xam0wcH5-1LaqJ8u-WDHNeUGH_NrO5E1zxq-8AGPIVoddntUkV2D__593dRkgnnBQhOWQ5Qsu5ohlzxYoUfvmQS9Jy43SBQdG54-K0UFtqw43JkR6g_dp9byWG-_i67dKKN4/s1600/DSCF1494.JPG" height="110" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQAIOCS-cyMA4FQJaXzZnp0ugL1W4u4S-e_TPAjl2QWPbyEgafuoZqsOg19joQqa39smVNLo29aVeAe8dpMFxk2COPnNMYTI4Walo0FyV9WW0M-COOaKEA_9iuiiIyjAz0a_CjSzB8a4/s1600/DSCF1495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQAIOCS-cyMA4FQJaXzZnp0ugL1W4u4S-e_TPAjl2QWPbyEgafuoZqsOg19joQqa39smVNLo29aVeAe8dpMFxk2COPnNMYTI4Walo0FyV9WW0M-COOaKEA_9iuiiIyjAz0a_CjSzB8a4/s1600/DSCF1495.JPG" height="251" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoieO0As1S4V1rFG_vqUMWwNgDwRrfxCk1KgCdXt2wLsDpw5mmy6sglho4sdgQI_typV0lKzS9wSO9HKvZHKP6mZ6baJkSDk5fG8vo7t7WZ3OV4QVw08cjtjHLMiFhjvXLs5E-sKUxhPM/s1600/DSCF1498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoieO0As1S4V1rFG_vqUMWwNgDwRrfxCk1KgCdXt2wLsDpw5mmy6sglho4sdgQI_typV0lKzS9wSO9HKvZHKP6mZ6baJkSDk5fG8vo7t7WZ3OV4QVw08cjtjHLMiFhjvXLs5E-sKUxhPM/s1600/DSCF1498.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-13277512422678288262015-02-15T10:29:00.000-05:002015-02-15T10:30:23.557-05:00Empty "Canyons"Paul Schrader's "The Canyons" (written by Bret Easton Ellis) is a tedious piece of crap about bored decadent Hollywood people of marginal talent and interest.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCB5-UgQ5knkEHc9J_27e0lZtP1UVnC47JGOYmUF0UuljLoQ3XNTgHFceksROKl8tPtyclQeabUAnWDj8VQ6DlI0osowatUs3fmhdOCxiwdDiOLxvuEK7_Yiu61E8Zn4Cexh5y6L1WEqs/s1600/the_canyons_1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCB5-UgQ5knkEHc9J_27e0lZtP1UVnC47JGOYmUF0UuljLoQ3XNTgHFceksROKl8tPtyclQeabUAnWDj8VQ6DlI0osowatUs3fmhdOCxiwdDiOLxvuEK7_Yiu61E8Zn4Cexh5y6L1WEqs/s1600/the_canyons_1.png" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Blah blah blah...</b></span></div>
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A self-portrait, in other words.<br />
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It has some nekkidity, but some of it involved Lindsay Lohan, who really needs to get her act together.<br />
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It also has a real life Porn Star, James Deen. He talks too much.<br />
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As does everybody in this clunker.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi29AtJ9hijsE9iRvP41XbsXMVpizUIvOOsi3QZRNBRt0XGjmsDtjm_paLMwSpWOSmYLc1M6-YX_jVCU4YCqKMM6r_0Z8DE6VMGGD1wTfbzzd02tTG4gUdQ5yZ-2yA77tz6sqT_5igWBa8/s1600/canyons.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi29AtJ9hijsE9iRvP41XbsXMVpizUIvOOsi3QZRNBRt0XGjmsDtjm_paLMwSpWOSmYLc1M6-YX_jVCU4YCqKMM6r_0Z8DE6VMGGD1wTfbzzd02tTG4gUdQ5yZ-2yA77tz6sqT_5igWBa8/s1600/canyons.png" height="136" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">...blah blah blah blah...</span></b></div>
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You can't make an exploitation film, or even a daring, boundary-pushing flick, and bore the crap out of the audience.<br />
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A Fast-Forward Special -- to the dogpile scene, which is icky.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3ixe8dRClK3iKGmbobcHBS7BYz1nEu0NzGOVEVaj3oh0VXU9piXTxmMc0w2ix6y0dVeFZ758V7lw6Gs8FmeOgap6ss8gv7LRm1uUid_8E6MBnvtJX97icdghtw3-vz6USpIAYI3w_zs/s1600/the-canyons-04_article.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3ixe8dRClK3iKGmbobcHBS7BYz1nEu0NzGOVEVaj3oh0VXU9piXTxmMc0w2ix6y0dVeFZ758V7lw6Gs8FmeOgap6ss8gv7LRm1uUid_8E6MBnvtJX97icdghtw3-vz6USpIAYI3w_zs/s1600/the-canyons-04_article.jpg" height="138" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">...blah blah blah blah oh let's get nekkid blah blah blah blah.</span></b></div>
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Zero coils. A complete waste of time.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-35792637940770891852015-02-08T20:10:00.002-05:002015-02-08T20:14:05.236-05:00Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead — Now With Improved Glop-O-Rama<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9F-r0-Tbp-LluMNXpWdw6RnjmcqpTll2FyfBUlKf81XyBE78rEzijGGT2Er1CMfINMdk0Cf60A_4MIBq4NzyC2I4s_7-iHoIVg5_I96EaJjwrw_0N8g_w-VpjqeIwrp1cWpYgahveM-E/s1600/deadsnow2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9F-r0-Tbp-LluMNXpWdw6RnjmcqpTll2FyfBUlKf81XyBE78rEzijGGT2Er1CMfINMdk0Cf60A_4MIBq4NzyC2I4s_7-iHoIVg5_I96EaJjwrw_0N8g_w-VpjqeIwrp1cWpYgahveM-E/s1600/deadsnow2.jpg" height="166" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">You won't believe how the Nazi zombies gassed up the tank.</span></b></div>
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Not content with the undoubted triumph of 2010's "<a href="http://coiledpleasures.blogspot.com/2010/03/dead-snow-gives-guts-and-guffaws.html">Dead Snow</a>," Tommy Wirkola has made a sequel. "Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead."<br />
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This title is a little misleading, because the "red" refers to some Red Army soldier-zombies who are just as dead as the Nazi zombies.<br />
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However, we are dealing with a generation that thinks the Berlin Wall was an album by some old guys called Pink Floyd. So we must make allowances.<br />
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If you recall, in the first flick Martin and his dopey friends went to cabin way the hell out in the woods in Norway and accidentally woke up Nazi commander Herzog and his zombie battalion.<br />
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In that one, everybody died, including Martin's girlfriend Sara, who is now called Hanna, but is still dead.<br />
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But what we didn't know is that Martin got away, but somehow wound up with Herzog's arm in his SUV.<br />
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So when the EMTs found him, they brought along the arm, and the kindly doctor reattached it — to Martin, who had cut his own arm off with a chain saw when he was bitten and infected.<br />
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Got that?<br />
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Well, this arm is capable of all sorts of stuff, including superhuman strength and resurrections.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCACzh4cQf6-PFj-7hYWebwVTbeI1_R3X68npd_sul5evYJTBtZn9AfDJpsTkt_vFjwSVPq7tZ8j4yDDDh2DEKBqhDoRZeg4su9kInxa6-qr9xuPU6-nFHYhCEGIpZPRtA4h9BTWNeZL8/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCACzh4cQf6-PFj-7hYWebwVTbeI1_R3X68npd_sul5evYJTBtZn9AfDJpsTkt_vFjwSVPq7tZ8j4yDDDh2DEKBqhDoRZeg4su9kInxa6-qr9xuPU6-nFHYhCEGIpZPRtA4h9BTWNeZL8/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Martin finds he can do all kinds of neat stuff with his Nazi zombie arm</span></b></div>
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Now, your Nazi zombies are complex creatures, and rarely do they have a simple agenda.<br />
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So Martin thinks they might be satisfied by getting their stupid treasure back, but he is sorely mistaken.<br />
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No, they have to finish their original mission, which was to destroy a little town called Tvnkj or something.<br />
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There is a whole lot of plot here, and to boil it down a bit, what we wind up with are four teams: the Nazi zombie team, led by Herzog; the Red Army team, led by some big tall zombie; Martin's team, which consists of Martin, the gay guy from the museum, and three nitwits from the US who call themselves The Zombie Squad; and the police, who are only there for comic relief.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBYhc1EzjmCUXnOWBoEiPaLIWf_1LP0ZgbUBD9D4v48Jo_fMqvEIEArAZ0l6l3vDapZq94L08iJdMg3_Q2o5TYF-WFWZw5AyCtoVpX1LCv5OWrB2Ddc3VCNeAqUD7OJlbj_yU8vdIUFCw/s1600/url.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBYhc1EzjmCUXnOWBoEiPaLIWf_1LP0ZgbUBD9D4v48Jo_fMqvEIEArAZ0l6l3vDapZq94L08iJdMg3_Q2o5TYF-WFWZw5AyCtoVpX1LCv5OWrB2Ddc3VCNeAqUD7OJlbj_yU8vdIUFCw/s1600/url.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Zombie Squad geek poses for photo with his first confirmed kill</span></b></div>
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The film is in English, which makes it slightly easier to be confused but lacks the Ingmar Bergman atmosphere that made the original so deep and profound.<br />
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However, it expands on the original's highly creative use of intestines. I have never seen an intestine used as a gasoline siphon before, and neither have you, I'll bet.<br />
<br />
Wirkola breaks the Glop-O-Meter on this one. Heads, feet, guts, arms all roll. Explosions. Nifty hatchet work. Intestine as garrote, siphon, electrical wire. Necrophilia (implied). Pet zombie. Bad running joke about the language of seagulls. Norwegian cops with Irish accents. No nekkidity (automatic one-coil deduction). Very confusing.<br />
<br />
Three coils.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-70731109445305488482015-01-11T12:38:00.000-05:002015-01-11T12:38:01.946-05:00Review: Tacky Fly BoxI've seen these around and bought a couple. I am in the middle of Early January Fly-Fishing Angst Mode, when the only fishable water is about two miles of the West Branch of the Farmington, right where it comes out of the dam, and my idea of a good time is watching Davy Wotton videos while curled up in a blanket.<br />
<br />
It's a slender thing, measuring 3/4 inch thick and 3 1/2 x 7 inches in area. It fits into a Fishpond chest pack. You could probably cram three or four in.<br />
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There are slots for 168 flies, but unless these flies are tiny and you want to use tweezers to get them in and out, I don't think you'll get every slot filled.<br />
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Hard to say how it works until I get out and try it, but I think it will allow me to consolidate all the nymphs in one (or two or three) boxes with a lot less bulk involved.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-52770302272971077892014-12-13T16:33:00.002-05:002014-12-13T16:37:47.781-05:00"Big Tit Zombie" Hits New Exciting Lows (with bonus French phrases)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Takao Nakano's 2010 "Big Tit Zombie" is an unusually stupid and tasteless film and as such zooms to the top of the CACA charts.<br />
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It stars Japanese porn queen Sora Aoi, aka Aoi Sora, aka Aoi Sola, and aka a few other names that are all remarkably similar.<br />
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She doesn't have especially big tits, either, but <i>le tout ensemble</i> is quite attractive. Especially when wielding a chain saw.<br />
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The plot, such as it is, has five strippers working in an unsuccessful club that just happens to be connected by underground passage to a dank dungeon with Cabbage Patch dolls and a well. Oh, and there is a Book of the Dead.<br />
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Naturally one of the strippers reads from the Book of the Dead. It is <i>de rigueur</i> in these situations. Otherwise the movie would just be called "Big Tit," or possibly "Big Tits," and where would you be?<br />
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Zombies emerge from the well, and hilarity ensues.<br />
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What sets this one apart from, say, "<a href="http://coiledpleasures.blogspot.com/2013/12/you-bet-your-zombie-ass.html">Zombie Ass: Toilet of the Dead</a>" are the sushi scenes (once with sushi, once with entrails).<br />
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And where "Zombie Ass" had unusual things erupting from the butt-type area, "Big Tit Zombie" has a fiery...<br />
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Uhh.<br />
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I can't say it. The area from which the fire explodes is, uh...<br />
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Adjacent! That's it. The fire comes from a region of a lady actor's personal body that is adjacent to the butt-type area of the personal b.<br />
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The film is also very meta, which can mean anything. In this case it means that the subtitles rarely match the dubbed dialogue, which creates an ever-changing dialectic and existential tension that calls into question the very nature of cinema itself.<br />
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(Ha! Top that, dog-ass <i>New York Times</i>!)<br />
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It also means the director is shouting things at the actors, and you can see the wires on the tentacle things.<br />
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Four breasts (each set twice). Chain saw splitting of zombie, twice. Book of the Dead. Gibberish Latin that's not even Latin. (It's not even close.) Mt. Fuji as subject of subtextual jokes. Amusing zombies. And that fire thing.<br />
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Four coils, unreservedly, and a nomination for the next Iron Coil award.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-44675808989604796262014-12-09T21:59:00.004-05:002014-12-09T21:59:33.186-05:00"Siren" Blows<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Siren-Kazuyoshi-Ozawa/dp/B002CWKTS2">Siren</a>" aka "Erotic Siren" is a shot on video, released on video erotic horror film that is neither erotic nor particularly horrifying.<br />
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A gang of five guys, dressed unconvincingly as women, knocks off a bank and gets away with a big sack of cash. They drive up to an abandoned house to wait for a confederate to take them to a boat. Then they're going to sail somewhere.<br />
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But dang. There's a semi-fresh girl messing around by the side of the road, so for no apparent reason they stop, she sees the money and guns, and so now they have to bring her along.<br />
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Oh yeah, she came out of the ocean, nekkid, in the first scene of the flick.<br />
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Tedious "Treasure of the Sierra Madre" thieves falling out stuff ensues, except in this case they are all looking to cut themselves a slice of the siren girl.<br />
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Bottom line, she kills them all, but they die happy.<br />
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The same two breasts, repeatedly. Psycho gangster shit, in Japanese. Incredibly bad suits (looks like they knocked over a Men's Wearhouse, not a bank). Artsy sex shots, decidedly non-erotic.<br />
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Starring Japanese porno star Aoi Sola, if that does anything for you.<br />
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Phooey. One coil.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-31076095552634147282014-12-05T12:46:00.001-05:002014-12-05T13:07:24.570-05:00The Mojo Wire Is Not Your FriendPart of the exciting life of a reporter is getting all kinds of material from kooks. And in these lax, post-modern times, kooks have a wide variety of methods to choose from to spread their kookery.<br />
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There is regular mail. Many kooks prefer this, as their remote dwellings are not wired for modern telecommunications.<br />
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There is telephone. Many kooks are unaware of caller ID, which takes the sting out of the anonymous "Deep Throat" sort of call.<br />
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Example:<br />
Me: (guardedly) Hello?<br />
Kook: I wanna give ya an anoner — an annonymuh — I wanna tell ya something without my name in it.<br />
Me: Oh, hiya there, Al.<br />
Kook: (spluttering) Click.<br />
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There is email. Anti-spam programs generally take care of this, but sometimes something slips through. Kooks like attachments; an email from a whacko will be festooned with them.<br />
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And there is the fax, a machine for which I prefer the Hunter S. Thompson name for the old Telex machine — the Mojo Wire.<br />
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Kooks like fax machines. I think it's because they know the product comes out on the receiver's end as a semi-legible, greasy affair, similar to the mimeographed copy of "The Protocols of the Elders of Zion" (b/w "Party Down with Henry Ford") that started their kookery in the first place.<br />
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Now, by "kooks" I include the following: crackpots, cranks, conspiracy theorists; people who think I am a shill for the right; people who firmly believe I am part of the left-wing conspiracy.<br />
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Not to forget these chatty souls: New Age believers of every description; zealots (from Anglicans to Zoroastrians); Twelve Steppers, No-Steppers, and my personal favorite, Missed Steppers.<br />
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All of them are convinced my soul is in peril. (Last I checked, it was a little battered, but basically intact and functioning.)<br />
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This is but a sampling of the kook world.<br />
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And I admit it: I am a connoisseur of kooks. Many's the time I have wriggled out of an unpleasant political discussion by invoking the Reptilian Conspiracy.<br />
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So I can't complain when the fax machine starts making that peculiar humming sound that says "Incoming from Uncaged Looney!"<br />
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Here is a recent example. These are the first two pages, of seven, plus a closeup of some of the marginalia.<br />
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(If you would like a copy of the entire thing, send $3.50 and a SASE to "Save the Kooks," PO Box 1755, Lakeville, CT 06039.)<br />
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Working for a newspaper really is a splendid way to make a living.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-47687524896622424842014-11-25T13:48:00.001-05:002015-02-25T15:21:10.024-05:00Honk If You're...Vehicle belonging to a progressive friend:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwccUMWZ2Otyl2cYkbs7K3h1wWGnHWBWjfuHOzQUhqw8eVAj4MUTSarJx5DzUeIKJi5gcCzj4Fkwyhfc5-Vqm79QcbxiKEz5pg9E-nlhmP3UYylWvvwlqhKB8fjiJD4sIhq9ptW-DyM7Q/s1600/progressive+vehicle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwccUMWZ2Otyl2cYkbs7K3h1wWGnHWBWjfuHOzQUhqw8eVAj4MUTSarJx5DzUeIKJi5gcCzj4Fkwyhfc5-Vqm79QcbxiKEz5pg9E-nlhmP3UYylWvvwlqhKB8fjiJD4sIhq9ptW-DyM7Q/s1600/progressive+vehicle.jpg" height="131" width="320" /></a></div>
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Vehicle belonging to libertarian (me):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXNOZ5OZcu_X-dEQg1p8bDcvs6vLpBXg7KT1lmV3r75tt5aTWF7h9nR-a9PhwBsbpyL3t2b-ofUa884RaVdd7cTb6GfF_oG2PgzzVZThhLA1x9F-ocOcVp7MrUpb-eTQnw0lyJCJRF0dQ/s1600/libertarian+vehicle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXNOZ5OZcu_X-dEQg1p8bDcvs6vLpBXg7KT1lmV3r75tt5aTWF7h9nR-a9PhwBsbpyL3t2b-ofUa884RaVdd7cTb6GfF_oG2PgzzVZThhLA1x9F-ocOcVp7MrUpb-eTQnw0lyJCJRF0dQ/s1600/libertarian+vehicle.jpg" height="125" width="320" /></a></div>
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And this:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/e8nnCMig1ro?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-66551659132645874492014-11-23T14:03:00.001-05:002014-11-23T14:03:18.257-05:00Coiled Stew<div class="p1">
Coiled Stew</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
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Two pounds hot Italian sausage</div>
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One medium yellow onion</div>
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One red pepper</div>
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Garlic</div>
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One can kidney beans</div>
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One can diced tomatoes</div>
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Brown rice/quinoa blend</div>
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<br /></div>
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Optional: One bag spinach</div>
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<br /></div>
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In a big pot cook up some garlic in olive oil, add chopped onions and red pepper, stir around.</div>
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While this is happening cut up poopy-looking sausage coils into one-inch chunks.</div>
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<div class="p1">
Heave them into the pot and stir it all up, let it go for a while. Keep stirring so nothing burns. Add beans and tomatoes, with all liquids, lower the heat, stir some more, cover. </div>
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After 30 minutes or so transfer the whole mess into a crock pot, which is where it's going to wind up anyway.</div>
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<br /></div>
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When you're ready to eat cook up some brown rice/qunioa blend, unless you want to spend $12 for a little box of pure keen-wah, which strikes me as a pretty major rip-off.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
If you cant to add the spinach just rip the shit up or chop it or whatever and shove it in the crock pot before you cook the rice and keen-wah. By the time the rice is done the spinach will be done too.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
Serve with grated cheese. You could also mix in some sour cream.</div>
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It looks pretty nasty but it tastes good, and it'c cheap and easy to make.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifd2uFSHBkKEKDo-uylKP7Fxr4YqK0zBnSepJHTk3CIcGHZUvoKrOXFjnHnZ8gSBRtGgN24TZXSzsAtgE8b_pI_8GDE7s0rPTCwT7x7qwAnOZHg4wXsTM1ykQ5BrTFnzOgj9RT1Z-HVH4/s1600/DSCF0182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifd2uFSHBkKEKDo-uylKP7Fxr4YqK0zBnSepJHTk3CIcGHZUvoKrOXFjnHnZ8gSBRtGgN24TZXSzsAtgE8b_pI_8GDE7s0rPTCwT7x7qwAnOZHg4wXsTM1ykQ5BrTFnzOgj9RT1Z-HVH4/s1600/DSCF0182.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpw8gU41fKjZX4JvrUy8JsSev01tJ4JhBdI3tpwo_5k28r9H4IBgOmmJwdKAJnQ-c2Rj9GC58ayZiPRKyQ8lA9QXO9SdIw615fVdW7S1aWnn-qvee6uZVKlaB9e-1s6poVgsWwYQu3fSI/s1600/DSCF0183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpw8gU41fKjZX4JvrUy8JsSev01tJ4JhBdI3tpwo_5k28r9H4IBgOmmJwdKAJnQ-c2Rj9GC58ayZiPRKyQ8lA9QXO9SdIw615fVdW7S1aWnn-qvee6uZVKlaB9e-1s6poVgsWwYQu3fSI/s1600/DSCF0183.JPG" height="320" width="266" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-54948386635898959892014-11-22T12:15:00.000-05:002014-11-22T12:15:01.228-05:00Stupid Winter — LL Bean PrimaLoft Packaway JacketAs I grow older I realize how much I despise winter.<br />
<br />
The short, grey days, when the sun comes up around 10 in the morning and disappears after lunch.<br />
<br />
The spitting rain freezing on top of the dirty snow.<br />
<br />
The plastic on the windows, for the ever-popular glaucoma effect.<br />
<br />
I needed something to fill the void between lined trenchcoat and waxed cotton coat, and basic large hunting shirt, so I took a shot at one of <a href="http://www.llbean.com/llb/shop/82289?feat=512918-GN1&page=primaloft-packaway-jacket">these</a><br />
<br />
It arrived the other day, and I deployed it this morning (24 degrees F and windy).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugQUSFGpR0jjW83dUrTeorxjKqaypCvZtL7dHysRktzhinIvIz8_EWLAMCjIzPDC5PLjFljxpOCS7QgtpFwX5CwsWlcxM42YX4JG9ZMGjpjB-8BlmsJ_-BmsYfb6WadDRXV_9UEoA9c0/s1600/nov+22+llb+primaloft+detail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugQUSFGpR0jjW83dUrTeorxjKqaypCvZtL7dHysRktzhinIvIz8_EWLAMCjIzPDC5PLjFljxpOCS7QgtpFwX5CwsWlcxM42YX4JG9ZMGjpjB-8BlmsJ_-BmsYfb6WadDRXV_9UEoA9c0/s1600/nov+22+llb+primaloft+detail.jpg" height="297" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It is amazingly warm, especially for the weight. I initially thought it was a joke. My Drizzler windbreaker weighs more.<br />
<br />
Trundling around the grocery store, which is not a warm place, I had to open it up to avoid overheating.<br />
<br />
I bought an XL. I am 5'9" and about 180 at the moment. It fits fine. The sleeves are a little long, which for a winter jacket is no hardship.<br />
<br />
The pockets are all on the outside.<br />
<br />
The front is a zipper, no backup snaps or Velcro.<br />
<br />
I am wearing it here with a thick Rugby shirt underneath, and a scarf.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't try to fool with this and a suit or sport coat at the same time. Wrong type of garment.<br />
<br />
Thumbs up. Four coils. Whatever.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD01nZdW5UzP_8ic7pjrYFxQpOiOLwSmlczzApRZDaaDeIAaTlG26YOlo2KY-NFxddkud35CtAKwT1KTHWC_w0eTftn7R0239T1XrnAaiqAcJ3RGa12MUAQi2ivoxEP_8jaS_oKYfZoyQ/s1600/nov+22+llb+primaloft.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD01nZdW5UzP_8ic7pjrYFxQpOiOLwSmlczzApRZDaaDeIAaTlG26YOlo2KY-NFxddkud35CtAKwT1KTHWC_w0eTftn7R0239T1XrnAaiqAcJ3RGa12MUAQi2ivoxEP_8jaS_oKYfZoyQ/s1600/nov+22+llb+primaloft.jpg" height="320" width="284" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-46298568923456547082014-11-21T21:03:00.000-05:002014-11-21T21:37:29.376-05:00 The Genius of Thom Christopher; or How to Be Bald and Evil While Wearing a Ladies' Turban<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have now rewatched "Deathstalker," "Deathstalker II," and the imaginatively titled "Deathstalker III."</div>
<br />
And while number one has a certain flair in the evil wizard with the face tats; and number two has the unforgettable Monique Gabrielle in two roles that both require extensive breastal exposure, plus John La Zar (as the sorcerer) using up all his little riffs that got cut from "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls"...<br />
<br />
Number three is superior.<br />
<br />
Why?<br />
<br />
Because of Thom Christopher as the evil wizard Troxartes.<br />
<br />
You probably know Thom from "Law and Order" reruns. He usually plays a New York jerk of some kind - boardroom jerk, attorney jerk, ordinary bald schmendrick-type jerk.<br />
<br />
Thom's got damn good teeth, and they really get a workout in "Deathstalker III." Rarely has so much scenery been chewed by one actor.<br />
<br />
He gives us demonic "I shall rule the world while clad in a fleece blanket from Target" laughter. He sashays through what the discerning critics of Mystery Science Theater rightly called the worst swordfight in cinema history. (The longest, too, according to Joe Bob Briggs' post-screening assessment for The Movie Channel.)<br />
<br />
But most of all, Thom's Troxartes channels Gloria Swanson.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQDPFfsCxr8tUKQLYE1PRMkZjdZa11PUoQEunztRwXqDhEHYK4hDbgOeVzh5Fqj5F9_pe6z_ZHpzwrQkUpYGyPG_sdTYR0blPkXJ1E5iaBbY8dRJh9Fq_W0mMwzESH6yAolRoi5ncAMM/s1600/troxartes+as+swanson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQDPFfsCxr8tUKQLYE1PRMkZjdZa11PUoQEunztRwXqDhEHYK4hDbgOeVzh5Fqj5F9_pe6z_ZHpzwrQkUpYGyPG_sdTYR0blPkXJ1E5iaBbY8dRJh9Fq_W0mMwzESH6yAolRoi5ncAMM/s1600/troxartes+as+swanson.jpg" height="244" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgn1P_U4tFgzrcHHPmTlP__8RWT4QWb0WtM25SBPY4Lsyi0nBGiEDOLAgjd0LwkbpEmbO0dOEcawvEo9CMqm70_iqPnPIPM-LFPTehxFf_hc4TRSZiezLq5vNQFrAKo6MAjjN88p39LmQ/s1600/gloria-swanson-sunset-boulevard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgn1P_U4tFgzrcHHPmTlP__8RWT4QWb0WtM25SBPY4Lsyi0nBGiEDOLAgjd0LwkbpEmbO0dOEcawvEo9CMqm70_iqPnPIPM-LFPTehxFf_hc4TRSZiezLq5vNQFrAKo6MAjjN88p39LmQ/s1600/gloria-swanson-sunset-boulevard.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
Now is that eerie or what?<br />
<br />
The costume department was on the ball in this flick. The head henchman does his thing wearing a helmet clearly inspired by the cover of Cher's 1978 album "Take Me Home."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5xt-3jhTFwCvougzPRsRgBOyxxUCyqZB1nf-6htTah5M1Altmlvzd6HlIrgOSP8MVRUYXLUcjATRBNr_4y0nbSWqXRDq7J9PIL7hq9rBJ3zjsPsY9Fn4PriGnPpoMcTG81kYYPajMnew/s1600/winged+helmet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5xt-3jhTFwCvougzPRsRgBOyxxUCyqZB1nf-6htTah5M1Altmlvzd6HlIrgOSP8MVRUYXLUcjATRBNr_4y0nbSWqXRDq7J9PIL7hq9rBJ3zjsPsY9Fn4PriGnPpoMcTG81kYYPajMnew/s1600/winged+helmet.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitt3Y_IsV2ztodxzNS_Y0qufzMAjUvG3J73jQdPKwGLE1WUg3CZJJWrWsoc8qMS75D88Xkw0wTerIoDLxsoQVjV71dUhi8y8ZtPPhJ8sLCMG1DI0BVgUFfIPH8-m2Y6eOsGNyOxTi5giA/s1600/cher+helmet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitt3Y_IsV2ztodxzNS_Y0qufzMAjUvG3J73jQdPKwGLE1WUg3CZJJWrWsoc8qMS75D88Xkw0wTerIoDLxsoQVjV71dUhi8y8ZtPPhJ8sLCMG1DI0BVgUFfIPH8-m2Y6eOsGNyOxTi5giA/s1600/cher+helmet.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
So while John Allen Nelson does not bring the same insouciant charm to the title role as D2's John Terlesky, and Carla Herd does not get nearly as nekkid as Monique, in Thom Christopher's Troxartes we have the stuff of greatness.<br />
<br />
Three and a half coils, if I can find them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rTZ6X1btK2o-4xc2a7bGUmBPYRkZ1IjArmzyGDo4ZeIQLSSHJGl3md-av6gGluMbfAWqAGERrU7OSKWoLzf-TzsLrBAaX6_X8SvNJSAsdO8Wqn8nPw-a2WasTDvPgVYKRaCkKbxuOrk/s1600/three+new+coils.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rTZ6X1btK2o-4xc2a7bGUmBPYRkZ1IjArmzyGDo4ZeIQLSSHJGl3md-av6gGluMbfAWqAGERrU7OSKWoLzf-TzsLrBAaX6_X8SvNJSAsdO8Wqn8nPw-a2WasTDvPgVYKRaCkKbxuOrk/s1600/three+new+coils.jpg" height="252" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBphniyDFVLwr9vKZn9u_ad9N10rKDBfzmhaTZFzC7v_XI_teXGXTi_3hi4pwSQpA73JHdn-A7mIl7N9c7OPu7Z4t6cJXpdxQ2zg-WCpKWZMcyirNoNK45odA7JBsUggYGe-jndDaDZ9o/s1600/half+new+coil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBphniyDFVLwr9vKZn9u_ad9N10rKDBfzmhaTZFzC7v_XI_teXGXTi_3hi4pwSQpA73JHdn-A7mIl7N9c7OPu7Z4t6cJXpdxQ2zg-WCpKWZMcyirNoNK45odA7JBsUggYGe-jndDaDZ9o/s1600/half+new+coil.jpg" height="244" width="320" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-67760238269001821122014-11-17T21:16:00.002-05:002014-11-19T15:28:35.926-05:00Selfie-referential"My Name is Bruce" is an extremely silly comedy horror flick from 2007 starring Bruce Campbell as himself. He is picked by a fan to help combat an Ancient Evil. Very mild hilarity ensues. No nekkidity. Self-referential, in the same sense that taking a picture of yourself making a stupid face and sending it to all your moron "friends" is self-referential.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLl0t5jA_76nXY-67R2c7x6fHgF4G7Hc_IMeMTkoLbqwdyl77xR03rhhH-OHpjpRuPavmkWkl7U43g_PTUJq5rZn0rpriTq3nd76xTPGHD4nG67xaZ3xNsdhA_P-f20JN1T2oGRvFOU04/s1600/bruce+front+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLl0t5jA_76nXY-67R2c7x6fHgF4G7Hc_IMeMTkoLbqwdyl77xR03rhhH-OHpjpRuPavmkWkl7U43g_PTUJq5rZn0rpriTq3nd76xTPGHD4nG67xaZ3xNsdhA_P-f20JN1T2oGRvFOU04/s1600/bruce+front+2.jpg" height="193" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It's a harmless and forgettable way to kill 86 minutes.<br />
<br />
Mildly amusing, it gets two coils.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZPF-ZHdAIzd1mEcxOQ6bNkhkcfXs8yETOyJbxmar8PorWiker27rY350OSzscZ_ipBtPCV19dQMTBUUhQHaW91S2yK4WbTla0qMj5lBjt8gEYg-7gOxruko45fodkIPgOm7B5M68U54/s1600/two+new+coils.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZPF-ZHdAIzd1mEcxOQ6bNkhkcfXs8yETOyJbxmar8PorWiker27rY350OSzscZ_ipBtPCV19dQMTBUUhQHaW91S2yK4WbTla0qMj5lBjt8gEYg-7gOxruko45fodkIPgOm7B5M68U54/s1600/two+new+coils.jpg" height="264" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-62187572227160999302014-09-02T10:28:00.000-04:002014-09-02T10:28:25.080-04:00Ferlin Husky Sings!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/QpE99HlhdmI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
The best way to describe Ferlin Husky singing the theme to "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0152721/">Swamp Girl</a>" is to let you hear it for yourself.<br />
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Magnificent, isn't it?<br />
<br />
And you get a whole movie too!<br />
<br />
Nat, who is black, lives in the swamp with Janine, the Swamp Girl, who is young, blonde, pretty —and pretty nimble in a boat.<br />
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Swamp Girl thinks Nat is her Paw, until circumstances force him to tell her the truth, which is that he saved her from the drunken white-slaving abortionist Doc.<br />
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So now he's just Nat.<br />
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Meanwhile the local goobers are searching for the Swamp Girl, plus the sheriff, plus the Swamp Ranger, who is Ferlin Husky.<br />
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And a Bonnie and Clyde couple decide to cross the swamp on foot, which is not a good idea.<br />
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Alligator death. Snake death — twice. No, three times. (Snakes are cheaper than gators.) Air boat. Magic dress on Swamp Girl, that never gets wet or dirty. No nekkidity (automatic one-coil deduction). Brutal speech by mother of Convict Girl, to wrap up loose ends of plot. Convincing demonstration of why loafers are not the right footgear for swamps.<br />
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And, of course, the dulcet tones of Ferlin Husky singing the theme song and playing the guitar.<br />
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Two and a half coils.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-42286374921070883522014-08-17T13:39:00.002-04:002014-08-17T13:39:44.820-04:00Queen of Outer Space, Dahling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Zsa Zsa Gabor stars as Telleah, the good Venusian scientist, in Edward Bernds immortal <i>Queen of Outer Space</i> (1958).<br />
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Unhappily, Ms. Gabor's lines do not include the word "dahling."<br />
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Some astronauts go up in a space ship to visit the space station, which is pretty prescient for 1958.<br />
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But before they get there the station gets blasted by a death ray from Venus. The ship crashes in some excellent scenery on said planet, and the crew is taken prisoner by Venusian guards with really good legs.<br />
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Venus is run by the crazy Queen Yllana, who wears a sort of masked ball thing on account of the stupid men who caused her face to be disfigured. The stupid men are on a moon, which has been converted to a slave colony.<br />
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So there's a lot of blah blah blah and it turns out Zsa Zsa and like-minded girls (who have better legs) wish to overthrow the Queen and get some men back.<br />
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But Yllana is determined to zap the Earth.<br />
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Great-looking guards and gams. Flat-screen TVs. Radiation burns. Ornate masks. Cardboard sets. Heartfelt waving goodbye to spaceship by girl in unfortunate green dress. Story by Ben Hecht, of all people. Very silly, and a lot of fun.<br />
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Three coils.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-14091154969585326182014-08-17T08:03:00.000-04:002014-08-17T08:32:54.171-04:00Summer Blockbusters!The Douglas Library (North Canaan, Conn.) comes through again, with an armload of DVDs with almost unlimited cheese-like potential.<br />
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We're talking <i>The Giant Behemoth, Queen of Outer Space (</i>starring Zsa Zsa Gabor<i>), </i>and<i> Attack of the 50 ft Woman.</i><br />
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<i>Speed Lovers, Thunder in Dixie, Swamp Girl, This Is Swamp Country, This Stuff'll Kill Ya!, The Year of the Yahoo</i> and <i>Two Thousand Maniacs</i> (an acknowledged classic).<br />
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On the undead front, the "Zombie Madness" collection includes <i>Melvin, Fast Zombies with Guns, Woods of Terror, The Defiled: We Are All Meat,</i> and<i> Zombie Lovers.</i><br />
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And Lon Chaney in the classic Universal version of <i>The Wolf Man</i>.<br />
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Chaney's also in the 1971 <i>Dracula vs. Frankenstein</i>, as Groton, a grunting insane henchman with a fondness for puppies. He also swings an efficient axe.<br />
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The immortal Zandor Vorkov stars as Dracula, if the Prince of Darkness were a roadie for Kiss. All his lines have an echo chamber on them, for extra evil.<br />
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There are several plot lines. By what appears to be sheer coincidence they occasionally intersect.<br />
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One breast. Two beasts. Hippie dancing. Painful Las Vegas lounge act, featuring an incomprehensible song about luggage. Two decapitations. One quart blood. Hippie protest march. Fat bikers. Waiter in hippie cafe with large scar on forehead. Stoned Vegas showgirl hippie dancing. Groovy guy who solves everything while wearing turtlenecks. Dwarf carnival barker (falls on carelessly stored axe). Hippie boyfriend in striped pants who sees artistic potential in old tire (gets federal arts grant in sequel). Mad scientist in wheelchair. Frankenstein monster with face that looks like mashed potatoes, or Secretary of State John Kerry. One psychedelic freakout song; one groovy ballad with oceans and seagulls, and above mentioned luggage number. Appalling. Three coils.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Lon Chaney as Groton. I would like to report on another character named Philips Exeter, but alas...</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">This is a song about luggage.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Zandor Vorkov is a glowering-type vampire.</span></b></div>
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<i><br /></i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-52155400337960011002014-07-13T18:36:00.000-04:002014-07-13T18:36:00.708-04:00Fishing report July 13<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Streamside art, pt. 17. I don't wish to be disrespectful of our spinning and bait-casting brothers, but I can't help noticing that they tend to leave shit on the stream bank. Esopus, above Portal.<br />
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Crazy brookie, Woodland Valley. Chased a hopper, changed his mind, and just as impulsively decided to nail the tung head Prince I had on a dropper.<br />
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The Serpent... Another in my series of herpetological false alarms. Esopus Creek.<br />
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...and the Rainbow. This view tends to produce good photos. Woodland Valley.<br />
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Just when you thought you'd seen it all, the fishing selfie.</div>
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Streamside art, pt. 18. A radiator sits in silent rebuke. </div>
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Lots of water in Woodland Valley for July.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-91434824781522412042014-06-09T20:29:00.005-04:002014-06-09T20:29:57.559-04:00Brookies, carp, slow daysFinally started getting the hang of the stocked brook trout in Woodland Valley.<br />
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Got this bad boy to take an isonychia nymph, which I had on a five foot dropper. I have never used a dropper that long.<br />
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As I was catching this fish, I noticed this other, larger fish hanging around and watching. Very untrout-like behavior.<br />
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Found out later that's because it wasn't a trout. It had died, somehow, and was belly up in the same pool that evening. When I fished it out, I saw this big yellow nasty-looking thing. Carp? Sucker? Klingon salmon? Beats me. I chucked it in the woods for the critters, who probably won't touch it either.<br />
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Meanwhile, back in Connecticut on the Blackberry, a cool, overcast day did not result in joyful trout leaping at anything. I had to work at it.<br />
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In this case, a soaked Royal Wulff dry fly, bounced off this glowing green rock, coaxed this fat brown into action.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-11776007079435924622014-06-01T21:38:00.001-04:002014-06-01T21:41:12.056-04:00Esopus not deadAs I was stowing away the tweed jackets in the former second bedroom in the cabin (now my off-season closet), I noticed a yellowing copy of the Phoenicia Times from around Memorial Day weekend of 2009.<br />
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Headline — "The Esopus is Dying"<br />
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It was about the discovery of didymo, more commonly known as "rock snot," in the river. (My editor loves "rock snot.")<br />
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It was there, all right. It was serious enough to jolt Sen. Charles Schumer out of his lair in Washington, D.C. to come to Boiceville to make a speech, something he is very good at. Nothing useful ever happens as a result, but boy, when you wind Chuck up, you get some speech.<br />
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In the normal course of events, the senator couldn't find the Esopus with both hands and a flashlight.<br />
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Anyhoo, the Portal discharges have been negligible this spring, and surprise, surprise — the river's in the best shape we've seen in ages.<br />
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Considerable work was done on Stony Clove Creek as well, which has to make a difference. Maybe Woodland Valley's next?<br />
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So on Thursday, May 29, I got tired catching robust but small browns, and the occasional silver bullet rainbow in the riffles, and headed upstream about a quarter of a mile from where the Woodland brook empties into the Esopus, at Herdman Road.<br />
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There were more goofy browns snapping at pretty much anything on the surface, but I clambered up to the big rocks that mark some deep runs and pockets and dunked a big nymph in — sort of a Prince, with some Mylar in the wing.<br />
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I don't know what the pattern is called, but I call it "The Fly of Death."<br />
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This is highly enjoyable fishing, when you cast over a boulder and then stand on tippy-toe to see what the hell is happening on the other side. Memo to indicator fishermen — they don't work very well when you can't see them.<br />
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I was rewarded with a nice fat brown in the 16 inch department that tore around, dove, and otherwise resisted my perfectly reasonable efforts to bring him in, get him in a net, photograph him, and then return him to the depths.<br />
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Sorry, that's terribly sexist. He or she to the depths.<br />
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I got another one of similar tonnage before it got too dark to see. Plus this spot is about where I broke my wrist 10 years ago, which required surgery. Every trip there brings back painful memories.<br />
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It got better the next morning. I arose at the crack of dawn, only to dive immediately back under the covers faster than a brown trout who has just been fooled by the Fly of Death. The temperature had fallen to 45 degrees overnight, and while I am a dedicated angler, there are limits to the dedication.<br />
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At the civilized hour of 9:30 a.m., therefore, adequately caffeinated and waffled (and baconed), I returned to the Herdman boulders, and this time the Fly of Death produced an honest-to-God big jumping leaping dancing rainbow trout of the sort that is supposed to be mostly gone from the Esopus.<br />
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Now, my arm measures 17 inches from the tip of the outstretched middle (or business) finger to the crook of the elbow, and this fish extended at least three inches beyond that. It was not easy to get a bead on him (or her), because he (or she) was very wriggly, and because there was no place to stand, and because I was trying to remove the FOD and return the magnificent fish to the water.<br />
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And between the giant landing net and the wide-angle lens, even the most monstrous fish looks, in my photos, like some lackluster hatchery specimen of medium size, the sort of trout that would just as soon eat garlic cheese or Del Monte brand canned corn on a treble hook as a cunningly presented Fly of Death.<br />
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So the Esopus is not dead. But the Phoenicia Times is.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>The rail line to nowhere. You'd almost think it was a federal project, perhaps championed by Sen. Charles Schumer. But no. This is flood damage.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>My big rainbow. I already explained about the wide-angle lens and the giant net.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>One of my favorite sights — trout hang around waiting to see what will float down from those rivulets. Kind of like the Automat for fish.</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Fly of Death</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Giant Net</span></b></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-88400341959332068572014-05-23T07:53:00.002-04:002014-05-23T12:09:59.285-04:00Furnace Brook Clears QuicklyMay 22 — Woke up to grey skies and rain in the official Daily Wild Guess from the National Weather Service.<br />
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The Housatonic was still a little high for my wading tastes, so I went to Furnace Brook along Route 4 in Cornwall. This is a small stream, sometimes squirrelly, sometimes fairly open. It's lovely water and holds a surprising number of trout.<br />
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It has one big disadvantage — it is right along Route 4. There is nothing like casting to a trout with the roar of traffic in your ear.<br />
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Naturally, no sooner did I arrive than the skies opened and it rained hard for about 20 minutes. I watched as the stream rose and became discolored.</div>
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"OK," sez I. "Let us put on something big and hairy and continue in the muddy water."<br />
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Which I did.<br />
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But what was interesting to me was that the stream cleared out almost as quickly as it became discolored. An hour later, you wouldn't know it rained from the water.<br />
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I finally got someone to take a Copper John in this deepish run at the second of two pulloffs with picnic tables along Route 4.<br />
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Then the LSD kicked in.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-85739044611077185692014-05-09T17:55:00.003-04:002014-05-09T17:55:39.604-04:00Woodland Valley pre-stocking report 2014 (part one)I made a flying visit May 7-8 and fished the brook from Botchford/Gillespie pool to Nakamotos. Flow per USGS was 57 cfs, which is a nice level. Didn't see a lot of fish, but took on nice holdover brown on a Prince from the run immediately above the BG pool (second photo).<br />
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First photo BG pool. 2 — Immediately above BG pool. 3 and 4 — Riffles and pockets between BG and Nakamoto. 4. Pool as you approach Nakamoto. 5. Nakamoto home in distance; stream stubbornly making its way back to the road.<br />
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I hope to finish the assessment next week.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-58203594769275560392014-02-11T13:41:00.000-05:002014-02-11T16:59:10.730-05:00Seersucker vs. Bloodsuckers — Carl Kolchak, the Night Stalker<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Some years back, in one of those trances that Amazon.com induces, I bought the box set of Kolchak: The Night Stalker DVDs.<br />
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It wasn't expensive, and has proved to be a good investment. They sit on the shelf next to other worthy efforts, such as the Aztec Mummy and Coffin Joe flicks, "The Wire," and all the "Avengers" episodes with Diana Rigg.<br />
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I watch these things about every other year.<br />
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Kolchak wears the same seersucker sack suit and battered hat throughout — usually with white tennis shoes.<br />
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If he takes notes it's on pieces of scrap paper. His reporter's kit includes a portable cassette recorder and an Instamatic, which never fails to produce blurry, useless photos of the Monster du Jour.<br />
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I can sympathize with his editor, Tony Vincenzo. He sends Kolchak to interview a transcendental meditation guru, and instead gets an urban vampire story. Both useful contributions, but hardly interchangeable.<br />
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Like "The X-Files," much of the series is shot in the dark — probably because the budget for convincing monster makeup was tight.<br />
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It's all very silly, and very much a product of its time (1974-5). There are go-go dancers and hippies. Wide lapels. Kolchak calls fellow reporter Ron Updyke "Uptight."<br />
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Gratuitous manual typewriters. Hot plates for the coffee. Convertible yellow Mustang, with manual transmission. Knit ties. Buttondown collars. Ghouls. Every character actor known to man, ca. 1974.<br />
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Fabulous stuff. A series-wide four coils, and an Iron Coil nomination.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-50276269304663699312014-01-26T09:57:00.003-05:002014-01-26T09:59:45.176-05:00Terror Goes on Vacation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Rene Cardonas III's <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0320708/"><i>Vacation of Terror</i></a> (1989) is the film that answers the question "Should We Go to the Country House We Just Inherited, the One Where the Witch Was Burned in Black and White?"<br />
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Uncle Fernando, who eats weird food, inherits a country house from his aunt, and packs the whole gang — twin boys, daughter Gaby, pregnant wife, and niece Paulina — into the car to go check it out. It's pretty much a ruin, but the kids like it.<br />
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But darn the luck — Gaby falls into the well where the evil witch's doll was stashed 100 years earlier.<br />
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See, the flick begins with a black and white flashback of some infuriated yokels burning a witch. And instead of burning all her stuff while they're at it, they stick it all in a well, which as you might guess is just asking for trouble.<br />
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You'll find this lax attitude toward destroying evil in these decadent, post-modern times. They got Anthony Weiner, all right, but did they go after his creator, Sen. Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.)? Nooo.<br />
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So the doll starts rolling her eyes and things start going awry – snakes in the fridge, miscarriages, you name it.<br />
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Meanwhile Julio, Paulina's boyfriend, comes down in his old pickup. He has cleverly tied to the mirror another relic of the witch burning, a hunk of crystal that glows in the presence of evil, and of course they don't get wise to the usefulness of the gizmo until it's almost too late.<br />
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Directed by Rene Cardona III, the grandson of the immortal Rene Cardona (<i>Doctor of Doom</i>, <i>The Wrestling Women vs. The Aztec Mummy</i>), and lacking in the latter's sense of the absurd. I wonder if the opening flashback is an outtake from one of Grandpa's flicks.<br />
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We're talking flying crockery as part of a larger pattern of poltergeistitation. Acid-washed jeans on Julio, which makes this a true horror film. Big 80s hair on Paulina. Strongly implied miscarriage. Ham on a plate. Exceptional screaming. Bad driving. No nekkidity (automatic one coil deduction), and a 3.7 (of a possible 5) on the fast-forward button.<br />
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Not enough terror, in other words, and no compensating gratuitous nudity. In Spanish with subtitles. One coil.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248857578793868122.post-80781283928051972312014-01-21T14:21:00.000-05:002014-01-21T14:22:07.150-05:00How to be organizedOrganization is very important. Without organization, you will be disorganized. And if you are disorganized, no one will pay any attention to you and workmen will be working on the bathroom and everybody will be yelling and the goddamn phone won't stop ringing and you bounce a check to the grocery store and forget to pay the car insurance and...<br />
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Step One:<br />
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Have a well-organized work space. In this example, everything is piled up in order of importance, with the most important things on the bottom. This practice ensures annoying important things will not disrupt the work day.<br />
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Step Two: Keep important reference materials handy. You never know when a zombie carrying an invasive plant may interrupt your fishing and require a stern talking-to.<br />
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Step Three: Follow the Soviets! The USSR was organized like a mamma-tamma. This book spells it all out. It is also very handy if you need to take a power nap.<br />
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Step Four: Outta Sight, Outta Mind. Take everything you don't want to think about, put it in a cardboard box, and shove it under your desk.<br />
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Just follow these simple guidelines and you too will be organized!</div>
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