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Mangia! Mangia (Brains)!

Hallo, Ween! Horrors! For the first time in several years, I actually have a number of holiday parties from which to choose. In a tragic fall from hedonistic abandon (note: premeditated hedonism is lame), I am now theatrically limping through the only night of the year during which I must be prepared to sprint from the undead at a moment’s notice. This will not deter me from premeditated decadence.

However, if I were not to be such a social creature on this creepy night, I would most definitely be gathered at the hearth with my ghoulfriends and boydeads watching “Sometimes My Aunt Martha Does Terrible Things" (a fabu kitschy horror flick that I cannot find anything about online, but too bad because I own my copy), or this, or this, or this, or this, or this.

Perhaps you detect a trend? Yes, it is a shame we are a culture so adept at reducing other cultures to nothing more than their cuisine offerings. Italian horror films of the 60’s and 70’s drip and ooze better than any greasy pizza and will pack on the pounds quicker than a couple of bowls of fettuccine as you cling white-knuckled to your futon frame, afraid to move an inch. The gore of these films is as tasteful as a boiling pot of blood-red marinara, and the terror is as classy as an $8.99 bottle of Chianti. So pull up a chair and tuck your napkin in at your throat. This is horror Italian style.

reflect - reinvent ....rayclaire@gmail.com... what i used to think... what i hear... what i see... where i'd like to be...

the black apple... the girl who... sarah brown... thunderpie... evany... jenny b harris... posie... claude le monde... artsy... fartsy... jeff... random person in texas... another rachel... smitten kitchen... more of me... still more of me... even more of me...and yet still more of me...more of me but not for free...

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