Personally, I’d love to talk about tonight’s just-concluded K-1 Dynamite USA PPV event, but I’m far less qualified than Mr. Wesley Black, who sums it up nicely on his sexy blog.
I will say, though, Dennis Rodman was truly the “star” of the evening. He jogged in, absorbed all of the crowd’s boos into his hoop earrings, and made out like a bandit with the 30-40 US dollars he was awarded for appearing.
… then this clip of what might be the very “best” scene in Woodchipper Massacre must be the lexical equivalent of Uncle Scrooge’s money bin.
Well. That was certainly a “massacre.” For those of you lacking the balls of steel it takes to make it through this motion picture, I present to you the soul of Woodchipper Massacre in a succinct 7 frames.
Shhhhhhh… the movie’s starting.
THE END
The youngest boy finally got his mail-order Rambo survival knife from the postman. After running inside with it, the wicked Aunt Tess proclaims that she “will not have a weapon of that caliber in this house!”
When all is said and done, there’s no way I’m going to be able to convey the essence of this movie in words. I’ll give you all a big ol’ picture parade, but I’m going to go ahead and refuse to write up this incredible specimen of shot-on-video, Casio scored glory. It’s like Bigwig Productions whisked The Artist Formerly Known as Kojiro Abe back in time and gave him a grand and too many light stands to make his magnum opus.
I’m about to explode. This has seriously been running in my DVD player for all of 13 seconds and I’m already dying to write about it. In fact, there haven’t even been any HUMAN BEINGS or CAMERA SHOTS on screen yet, but here I am.
The movie opens with some amazing VCR-quality teleprompter text that relays the following crucial message:
This year over 75,000 people were killed by family members in the United States. One in ten of these murders are never solved and written off as unexplained disappearances, due to the fact that bodies are never found and disposed of in most ingenious ways.
This is one such story.
Let that soak in for a bit while I press play and power through 90 minutes of a titillating 1989 classic.
subhumanzoids 