Hey guys, I need you to swing by and check out the new
Wittenburg Door website,
which I've been working on for the past few months and which I'll be
contributing to regularly. It launched on Halloween, exactly 490 years after the
event it's named after.
The Door is the pretty much only magazine of religious satire, nailing the church since 1517. I've been one of the Doorkeepers for years, as many of you know, but I was picked to be the head Online Doorkeeper and, since I had very little background in web ventures, it turned out to be sort of a combination website/newspaper/gossip sheet and, I'm proud to say, made people angry even at the beta stage.
If you like anything, or even if you don't, leave a comment, sign up for the newsletter, subscribe to the feed, and hopefully you’ll come back often.
Get a Joe Bob Autographed DVD
$21.00 + $2.90 shipping ($23.90 TOTAL)
CHEAP!
The
Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became
Mixed-up Zombies!
Order now through this site and Joe Bob will autograph your DVD (complete with his great commentary) for you as well.
Please be sure to indicate what you want the autograph to say on
the PayPal order screen.
NOTE: In order to autograph the discs, Joe Bob will personally rip the sanitized-for-your-protection plastic wrapper to get
those suckers out (and he won't even charge you!) Rest assured, these ARE brand spankin'
new dvds--not something Joe Bob picked up at the flea market and
trying to re-sell.
These won't last! Get yours today!
Do you have your copy of PROFOUNDLY EROTIC yet? Why not get
a personally autographed copy for you or your special "erotic"
someone? Click here to order now!
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Cat’s Eye is about this little obnoxious cat that runs all up and down the East Coast, looking into the camera and saying stuff like, “Hey, how else could Big Steve go take three of his old short stories and hook 'em together if I wasn’t here to make it look like there’s some deep reason for it?”
Damned smart cat.
"From the Cheap but Effective School of Special Effects"
So first the cat runs into the story “Quitters, Inc.,” the one about the guy who goes to Marlboro School, but when he gets there, a Mafia guy is waiting. If you can’t quit smoking, they turn your wife into a human cattle prod.
James Woods can’t quit smoking, so Alan King lights up the Juice Room with a little spouse meat, till Jimbo learns his lesson. I won’t give away the ending, but fingers roll.
"It's all fun and games until somebody turns on the electric floor."
Then the cat runs off to Atlantic City and watches a fat-cat gambler bet Robert Hays can’t walk all the way around a high-rise on the ledge. First prize: the fat cat’s heavy wife. Great Klaxon-horn impalement, but they wimped out and didn’t do it onscreen, the disgusting way Big Steve wrote it.
"Yeah, I gotta tell you, someday I'm gonna show my ta-ta's to David Letterman."
Next the cat busts into Drew Barrymore’s bedroom and fights against a midget troll monster to prove it’s not cats that steal children’s breath but ugly little rat-face trolls that jump out of the wall and slobber all over the Tinker toys. When the cat and troll battle to the death, it’s one of the finest special effects sequences ever filmed in Wilmington. North Carolina.
What we got here is no breasts. (PG-13 on a Big Steve flick?)
One-pint blood. Three beasts, including Alan King. Barbecued cat. Barbecued wife. Cameo appearance by Cujo. Gratuitous double plug for the song “I’ll Be Watching You.” Head rolls. Finger rolls. Two dead bodies. One dead bird. Cat fu. Troll fu. Reddy Kilowatt fu.
Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Candy Clark as the evil wife of the year (she tries to kill the cat); Kenneth McMillan as the fat cat; Lewis Teague, who said, “I know I screwed up Cujo, Steve, but I can direct, really I can”; Dino De Laurentiis, the D-Man, who was the first to say, “When monkey die, everybody cry”; and Big Steve, the one and only.
Call it three and a half stars.
1/2
Joe Bob says check it out.
November 8, 2009
Hogzilla (2007)
Hypoluxo Pictures
I want you all to gather round the bug-zapper for the greatest story ever told since the day the baby Jesus came to earth.
Yes, I starred in Hogzilla, the best of the three killer pig movies released all in the same year.
This trifecta of Animatronic Razorback Horror was predicted by Nostradamus hisself and corroborated by a mysterious image that appeared on a grilled cheese sandwich I once had in Albuquerque.
A tabloid news crew ventures into the backwoods of Central Florida to investigate reports of an aggressive feral hog who the locals have dubbed Hogzilla.
What they end up gettin' is the usual pant-load of demons, devils, creepin' things and some good old fashion pure pig-spitting evil thrown in for good measure.
Director Diane Jaques delivered this horror parody for the fine folks over at the SCI-FI Channel (or whatever they are calling themselves these days).
Some say it's so bad it's probably pretty good. Heck, this educational nature flick somehow managed to predict how dangerous these critters would be a full two years prior to the arrival of the dreaded swine-snot-piggie-flu.
The Surgeon Generalissimo should have saw this one coming.
An Indoor Bullstuff Cinema masterpiece and future classic. Four stars.
They will even let Joe Bob's unwashed masses in if we behave ourselves.
Dear Job Bob,
I've started dating a white man in his mid thirties whose house is filled with horror posters, DVDs, creepy masks, weapons, slasher action figures, and movie collectables. Nothing else; just gross horror and torture stuff...
He thinks living in this environment and watching horror movies 24/7 helps discharge any of his homicidal tendencies. But I can't help thinking when he's gently making love to me under his Texas Chainsaw poster that he'd rather be hanging me on a meathook. Or at least carving a hole in my cheek and fu**ing that orifice instead.
Am I overreacting? Or should I run before the restraints, Cthulu mask and power drill get brought into the bedroom?
Signed,
Not Really Feeling It
Dear Not Really,
The chances of your boyfriend actually fashioning a new orifice are extremely remote because the aficionado of gory dismemberment is, in almost every case, a copycat.
Unless you've starred in any slashers yourself, he's unlikely to be turned on by anything about your body, person, or behavior that reminds him of you. When you're making love with this man, he's envisioning a cinematic female who was created on a movie set, then refashioned in his own imagination into a willing blood sacrifice. The main thing you have going for you is that you (presumably) have all the same limbs and organs in all the same approximate places on your body as did the slut of his dreams.
You should refrain from making any noises, especially any idiosyncratic ones, as it would tend to reinforce the idea that he's having sex with his actual girlfriend, as opposed to the bimbo he uses for his cellphone wallpaper.
