"Joe Bob Goes to the
Drive-In" for 12/10/93
cutline: Nicole Posey, Sarah Bellomo
and Tamara Landry look like they shop at a Fredrick's of Hollywood on Neptune.
Together, they're the "Beach Babes From Beyond."
By Joe Bob Briggs
Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine,
Texas
You
might of heard about this. Some of my fellow Babtists down in Round Rock,
Texas, the immortal birthplace of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,"
decided they don't really want Apple Computer to be building a big factory down
there, bringing in 1500 jobs, and you know why?
Because
those heathen computer nerds from the Silicon Valley give the same health
benefits to people LIVING IN SIN, even the ones who are Homosexualis
Aardvarkus, that they give to healthy Chevy-Nova-drivin
"family-values"-spoutin Tejanos that have lived on the same land for
150 years and think that makes em smart. Evidently the county commissioners of
Williamson County believe that there has NEVER been a homo or a lesbo anywhere
inside the county, and so they denied Apple a $750,000 tax break that they had
ALREADY promised em. They even had a big meeting, with people screaming
"Williamson County was not founded on same-sex lovers and live-in
lovers."
And
one of the weasel commissioners, David S. Hays, changed his mind at the last
minute and cast the deciding vote AGAINST Apple, and then said, "If I had
voted yes, I would have had to walk into my church with people saying, 'There
is the man who brought homosexuality to Williamson County.'"
Obviously,
Apple was a little p.o.ed.
And
I hope somebody from Apple is readin this, because I'm a proud Texan going back
many generations, and I'm gonna suggest just EXACTLY how you should react to
this.
Tell
the county commissioners, the governor, the legislature, and every chamber of
commerce within a thousand miles of Williamson County that you wouldn't locate
in Texas if all the other states dried up like a booger on the back of the
sofa. Threaten their pocketbook. Tell em you're gonna spread the word to every
other goldang computer company in the world. Basically give em the pointy toe
of your lizard-skin Tony Lama designer boot.
And
then tell em there's one way you'll change your mind--if they throw out of
office every single politician who voted against you.
Because,
when you get right down to the bottom of it, it's those county commissioners
who aren't REALLY Texans. Otherwise, they would know the following true facts
that have existed since the Alamo and before:
First,
Texas is made up ENTIRELY of people who got kicked out of every decent state in
the union. That's the only reason anybody would come there before
air-conditioning was invented.
Second,
we accepted every misfit, no questions asked, EVEN INCLUDING PEOPLE FROM
CALIFORNIA. Heck, we accepted MURDERERS, as long as they didn't talk about it
too much.
Third,
the first Babtist preachers in Texas set up their church right next to the
whorehouse. Whatever they didn't approve of, that's the people they SOUGHT OUT,
made friends with. They WANTED those people to be right across the street from
em. Whether they came to church or not, they accepted em.
Fourth,
nobody in Texas ever believed in "family values." We're talking the
White Trash Capital of the World. There's never been a functional family in the
whole history of the state. What Texans always believed in was COMMUNITY
values--meaning everybody in town, no matter how different they were at first,
was included.
We
always needed every immigrant we could get. As the Lyle Lovett song says,
"No, you're NOT from Texas, but Texas wants you anyway."
And
if the voters DON'T send these politicians to New Jersey, where they belong,
then I suggest we do one of those 9,000-year boycotts of Williamson County.
Give people something that'll make em forget Colorado entirely.
Meanwhile,
any homosexual couples that happen to be passin through Texas, and are getting
a little SCARED by the vibes, come crash in the back room of my trailer. It
creaks in the wind, but my shotgun is two seconds away.
And
speaking of Rhodes scholars rampaging through the countryside, the creators of
"Beach Babes From Beyond" are the same folks who brought us Full Moon
Entertainment, home of such drive-in classics as "Puppetmaster,"
"Dollman," "Trancers," "Demonic Toys" and
"Dr. Mordrid." And now they've created a whole new company called
Torchlight Entertainment, which, judging by their first release, will be
putting out movies full of wooden marble-mouthed half-nekkid bikini models
spouting lines like "You gotta see the donut, not just the hole." In
other words, MY KINDA MOVIES!
"Beach
Babes From Beyond" is the old familiar story of three teenage girls from
another planet who steal their parents T-Bird Spaceship and crash-land on a
California beach where Joe "Nepotism Man" Estevez is an aging surfer
and Joey "Nepotism Boy" Travolta is a retired rocket scientist who
runs a health-food stand. The outer-space bimbos pose as Swedish exchange
students, and zaniness ensues, while Burt "Yes, I Was Robin" Ward
stumbles around in the background of a bikini contest for no apparent reason.
Thirty-two
breasts. Multiple aardvarking. One shower scene. No plot to get in the way of
the story. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Alexander Sachs, the writer,
whose idea of a transition is having somebody say "Would you mind if I sat
in on your catalog photo session?"; Linnea Quigley, the immortal scream
queen, as the rich landlady who says "This is a swimsuit catalog shoot!
Not Hustler!"; Sarah Bellomo, as the numero uno outer-space babe, for
saying "You're the sweetest boy I ever met" and MEANING it; and Ellen
Cabot, the director, for using MORE breast shots, crotch shots, and wiggling
hiney shots than any male director in the history of teen-bimbo-at-the-beach
movies.
Three
stars.
Joe
Bob says check it out.
JOE BOB'S ADVICE TO THE
HOPELESS
Victory Over Communism! The Moonlite
Drive-In, on the General Lee Highway between Bristol, Tenn., and Abingdon, Va.,
is still doing great business and continues to sport a beautiful neon marquee
on the back of the screen and blue-domed lights atop each speaker post. Todd
Wyatt of Bristol reminds us that, with eternal vigilance, the drive-in will
never die. To discuss the meaning of life with Joe Bob, or to get free junk in
the mail and Joe Bob's world famous newsletter, write Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box
2002, Dallas, TX 75221. Joe Bob's Fax line is always open: 214-368-2310.
Hey Joe Bob,
It said in the paper that Americans prefer
Jane Fonda's groceries to Madonna's, mostly on the grounds of health. I want to
know, what does it have to do with health? And whose groceries would you go
for?
Fernando Hamilton
San Francisco
Dear Fernando:
Between Madonna and Jane Fonda? That's
like asking a man whether he prefers to have all his fingernails ripped out, or
to be jabbed in the stomach with a hot fire poker. Just THINKING ABOUT IT is
painful.
Yo Joe Bob,
I was born in Lubbock, Texas (home town of
Buddy Holly). I have often thought that Benjamin (Bugsy) Siegel should be
considered an honorary Texan. What are your thoughts on this?
Allen Ray Hall
Fort Bragg, Calif.
Dear Allen Ray:
Bugsy created Vegas.
Texans gave Vegas all their money.
You're right.
Dear Joe Bob,
You know, Joe Bob, today's society is a far
cry from the simple old days of convertibles, drive-ins and hooter heaven in
the back seats. And what did they leave us? Nothin but shopping mall fu, arcade
fu, land plowing, cement pouring, steel-girdered 20th century manipulation of
our resources fu, and less big screen, bodaciously spacious, pack-your-friends-in-the-trunk,
double, triple, quadruple, dusk-til-dawn features, nonstop necking and petting
fun of the high quality, critically acclaimed, blockbuster movie mecca of our
time, the drive-ins. Thanks for keeping the DRIVE ALIVE!
Airman 1st Class Todd
S. Halstead
Operation Provide
Comfort
U.S. Air Force
R.A.F., Lakenheath,
England
Dear Todd:
Noticed all tht land they got in
Scotland?
Couple of poles, big white screen . . .
Dear Joe Bob:
I haven't noticed any letters from the
Myrtle Beach area, so I am hereby appointing myself as your correspondant from
South Carolina's Redneck Riviera.
In the book, "The Worst of
Everything," travel expert Steve Birnbaum lists Myrtle Beach as the
"Tacky Capital of the East Coast," which should interest those
devoted to bad taste entertainment.
I know that Joe Bob might not be impressed
with the opinions of Steve Birnbaum. But, if a bad-taste filmmaker like David
Friedman says it, Joe Bob would believe it! In his biography, "A Youth in
Babylon," Mr. Friedman devotes pages 60 to 61 to the tourist attractions
of the Redneck Riviera.
So, that settles it. In the months to come,
I am going to report on some of the tacky local landmarks, bad taste
entertainment, and of course, the drive-ins of this unique resort.
Yours truly,
Fred Hamilton
North Myrtle Beach,
S.C.
Dear Fred:
Myrtle Beach? Tacky?
Every motel I've ever stayed in uses
genuine Naugahyde, and I don't mean in the lobby, either. Right there in your ROOM.
What more do you want?
Dear Joe Bob,
Last year you sent me a card for my
birthday (November 11) stating that THIS year you would be showing up in Toledo
on November 11.
Well, I can't tell you how excited I got. I
rented the back room of the D.C. Ranch House, invited 25 of my closest friends,
bought party hats, and even made banners with Crayola fluorescent markers
saying "Welcome to Toledo, Joe Bob."
You can imagine my disappointment when the
only people who showed up were some veterans who dropped out of the parade
because of chest pains.
After I dealt with the disappointment I
became concerned. Maybe something HAD happened to you on the way. So . . . I
called the bus company. However, they assured me that even with the crash of
that truckload of pigs and the flooding near Cincinnati you should have made it
to Toledo by now.
The only other possibility was that because
of finances you might have just tried to come up in the pick-up. That really
scared me, because I remember reading where someone had deliberately taken the
signs down at the Ohio/Kentucky border, and unsuspecting travelers were
mistakenly driving into the Amish county of Lancaster and were showing up as
extras in Harrison Ford movies.
So, I am anxiously awaiting next Saturday
to make sure you are safe. (I'm sure it's all a big mistake--but the movie
"10,000 Maniacs" (2,000? 1,500?) keeps coming to mind!)
Take care and let me know you're safe.
Okay?
Judy Hamilton
Toledo, O.
Dear Judy:
I'm fully recovered from the trauma, but
I have this REALLY bad beard and a black frock coat, and apparently I've traded
in my car for a horse and buggy.
Could you still be interested in a man
whose only remaining ambition in life is to raise goats?
© 1993 Joe Bob Briggs All Rights Reserved