All Gravel Roads. . . . . Lead to “El Duce”



If all gravel roads lead somewhere, you wouldn’t be surprised to pass old, broken-down trailers in the neighborhood. And a fixture of riff-raffery, some of Beetlejuice’s low-down neighbors poking around a grill like a whiskey-guzzling musk-rat.

Brutal, lordly. NSFW– (“Not safe for work) as if a dude like this even worked.

It’s “El Duce” from the shock-rock beer-belly set. You’ll recognize him for his sadomasochist stylings, concealing his objectionable identity with a black hood and guttural offensive charms as he fronted “The Mentors” like THE KINGS OF SLEAZE festering on the Pacific Coast.

Langouring trailer-park women in leather and garters, his presumed harem as he bulges out his eyes like bonk-headed, glazed space mutants in foam-rubber monster costumes “demanding to be gratified”.

Indeed, “a threat to health, wealth, and morals” whose raunchy lyrics were presented before Congress in hearings by “The Washington Wives”, calling for restraint and decency in the music industry. Good luck with that– the only thing they succeeded in doing was getting “Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics” stickers on tapes & CD’s and probably just making the offending music THAT MUCH MORE ENTICING.

No matter what, you’ll always have the bottom-feeders like ole’ El Duce putting on shows and selling underground records out of a car trunk, a slap on your shoulder and an ice-cold beer in the other hand as he yuks it up like an unsubtle statement about America.

Just another misfit in the world of Beetlejuice “who fits”.

Call him “Uncle Perv”. . . . . though I think Lydia would remain wary to the proposition of returning to a motel with his guy. After all, she broke-off the marriage contract with Beetlejuice in the movie, spared from obscene fate, an X-rated boast.

If even from El Duce– who once sensationally claimed that Courtney Love offered him money to whack Kurt Cobain. Maybe a nugget of some off-color joke “grows with the telling” but watch as everyone attempts to cash in.

Like a dubious character witness, I wouldn’t trust him either as you can’t forget Beetlejuice “selling used cars” at the cemetery lot with the giant lit sign– the giant arrow pointing to “dirt-low” credibility, the rotten truth in all “the fine print”.

A foul trickster, free speech for the dumb as you can’t “outlaw evil”. Keep this movie PG-rated, IF YOU DARE. Or else my name is Jerry Springer. . . . .


Don’t “Shake Hands with SNAKE”

All Gravel Roads. . . . . Lead to “El Duce”

“Beetlejuice 2” According to “Funny or Die”

Eternity has “no Shot-CLOCK”. . . . .

Seriously– can we do better? Stay Tuned as we wade through “UNDEAD” DEVELOPMENT HELL LIKE THE SCRIPT THAT WOULDN’T DIEEEEEEEEEEE!

More to follow, “Take a number” and ENJOY “THE NIGHT-CHILL” as Beetlejuice takes a smoke out in the parking-lot. By the stripes of his professionalism “IT WILL BE SHOW-TIME”.

“Beetlejuice 2” According to “Funny or Die”

A Winona Ryder Interview, Republished

Read here. . . . .

img-winona-ryder_141553855938    3d_glasses

A recycled interview with Winona Ryder from the high-toned “INTERVIEW” magazine. From quite a while back, she never ceases to amaze. The “Red Tan” song by the Ravonettes seems to do the spread justice. She’s “not just the girl from next door” but from a very original, special place as the worlds of film and fashion intersect in one kooky, alt-culture incident of treasured humanity. Hope you like the interview, too.

And long live Beetlejuice!

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A Winona Ryder Interview, Republished

The Haunted Vapors of “Tom & Jerry”

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“Eat me”.

“Drink me”.

It’s all relative—with the rolling boulder of “chaos magick”. Nothing is “what it seems” with tricks of illusion & perspective, as death is just another side of what we call “real”.

Like “Alice in Wonderland” through the laughing shards of an oozy, milk-light mirror in a fun-house. Magic shoots from the fingers of our arch-ghoul, but most unfortunately ebbs away with the phases of the moon, or electrical static from household items.

And our hero is shrunk to the size of a mouse-meat morsel. . . . . as a ravenous house-cat rounds the corner and licks its murrrm’ing chops. Like a cricket hopping about in a humid basement, larger humanity pays no attention and figures “the cat will take care of it”.

Beetlejuice, now in miniature—must survive this scene for the movie to have a happy ending as he scurries around, tearing around furniture and diving through holes in the wall as he crawls through roach-shit in a most undignified state.

A chase ensues—peeking out here and there like “Whack-a-Mole” as the cat scampers for him. Our match-box goblin gets the upper hand and sticks it in the hindquarters.

The cat jumps up on a chair, then the table as it peers down and deliberates over its strategy.

Beetlejuice turns into a giant, scuttling scorpion with a head the size of a man, affixed to the body for creepy effect as the cat runs off. He crawls up the wall and out the window as he resumes human form and dusts off his sleeves with chuckling laughter.

Is this a 4/20 dream, or what? Ingest healthy and legal substances—like a e-mail subscription to this blog for manic, terrible entertainments. Imagination runs wild here in the St. Louis netherworld. See you soon. . . . .

ganja_team   beetlejuice_script_size

The Haunted Vapors of “Tom & Jerry”

Halloween Make-up Tips

When you wish upon a star. . . . .

Halloween Make-up Tips