"Joe Bob's Drive-In" for 1/9/95
cutline: [TK]
By Joe Bob Briggs
Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas
All right, time for the 1994 Drive-In Academy Award nominations, better known, of course, as The Hubbies. And this year we have some new rules.
If you wanna vote, you gotta send me a statement with your ballot that says, "I saw AT LEAST 50 sleazy videos in the course of 1994, and I didn't just read Joe Bob's descriptions of the movies and vote for the funniest one."
I mean it.
I'm sick of this.
We're trying to run an organization that recognizes artistic greatness, and we've got people who think they're fillin out an All-Star ballot from McDonald's. Please. Get with the program.
I do NOT wanna have to tell you again.
The awards ceremonies will be held in Grapevine, Texas, sometime in May. I'd be more specific, but I'm too lazy to figure it out right now.
And the nominees are:
BEST FLICK
"The Harvest," story of a depressed out-of-work screenwriter who goes to Mexico to finish his script, gets knocked out by thugs who forcibly remove his left kidney, recuperates in the place where they filmed "Night of the Iguana," falls in love with a beautiful blonde nurse from Chicago, and takes her to his California wheat farm where he fights off an army of surgical killers.
"Haunted Symphony," starring Ben Cross as a third-rate composer in 18th-century France who gets hired by a foxy heiress to complete the symphony her uncle was writing when the town lynched him for being a devil worshipper.
"Quick," the story of a blonde bombshell assassin who walks into Beverly Hills boutiques and blows gangsters away, but feels real depressed about it afterwards--kind of like "Mary Tyler Moore Joins the Mafia," with kinky sex.
"Rescue Me," an action/adventure/comedy/teen nookie/road movie with a few crying scenes tossed in, about a geek yearbook photographer who sets out cross-country to rescue a kidnapped cheerleader.
"Road Kill USA," the story of a typical psychotic white-trash couple careening across the back highways of the South with a hapless good-ole-boy teenager in the back seat, trying to figure out why they keep driving all through the night and giggling about whoever they just carved up, clubbed to death, or crushed to death with a hydraulic lift.
BEST HORROR FLICK
"Haunted Symphony": See "Best Flick."
"Hellbound," starring Chuck Norris as a cop who goes to Israel to apprehend a 700-year-old demon who's going all over the world, killing holy men, so he can reassemble the ancient Crown of the Scepter of Prosatanos (don't ask), and then sacrifice an airhead bimbo so he can open the gates to hell.
"Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead," about this real ugly-lookin old skinny guy who goes around collecting dead bodies, and the way you know he's coming is that a flying Christmas tree ornament with daggers stickin out of it tries to imbed itself in your skull right before The Tall Man shows up.
"The Refrigerator" about a Yuppie couple from Ohio who move to the Lower East Side of New York City where they get an apartment for 200 bucks a month--and DON'T THINK ANYTHING IS WRONG. Unfortunately, the refrigerator chews people up and squeezes all the blood out of their bodies and turns them into zombies and sends them to hell.
"Shrunken Heads," the story of what would happen if three kids in the neighborhood got blown away by thugs working for a lesbian gangster, but then they had their heads cut off and boiled in a vat by the friendly neighborhood comic book salesman and Haitian voodoo police officer, and then they came back to life and flew around with knives between their teeth, getting revenge by slicing up criminals and turning em into friendly zombies who go around cleaning off graffiti and replacing the trash in upturned Dumpsters.
"The Unearthing," about the ancient Filipino cult of vampires who live in rural Wisconsin and eat live fetuses.
BEST EROTIC THRILLER
"Cold Sweat," the Canadian hired-assassin erotic ghost story about a hitman hired by Shannon Tweed's husband to kill either her or the man she's sleeping with, but meanwhile he's trying to get rid of the sexy nekkid ghost that's following him around.
"Discretion Assured," an erotic whodunit starring Michael York as a businessman in Brazil who's bored with his wife (Dee Wallace Stone) and bored with his mistress (Jennifer O'Neill), and so he's making the sign of the triple-finned hammerhead with Elizabeth Gracen.
"Killer Looks," starring Sara Suzanne Brown as the big-breasted wife who cries a lot when her kinky husband makes her bring home strange men for his amusement.
"Scorned," the excellent "Hand That Rocks the Cradle" rip-off, with Shannon Tweed as the Widow From Hell, Tutor From Hell, and Psycho Sex Demon From Hell.
"Sexual Outlaws," the story of a typical couple who own a swingers magazine, only the wife falls in love through the mail with a mute ex-con murder suspect.
BEST KUNG FU FLICK
"American Cyborg," the first right-to-life sci-fi flick, about a fetus-in-a-jar that's gonna save the world, with a lot of cannibals and mutants rampaging through the streets in full-body gross-out makeup.
"Eyes of the Serpent": Samurai kung‑fu comedy about two duelling queens who are trying to capture the magic swords, translate the ancient scrolls, and achieve absolute power while sleeping with whoever they want to and torturing the servants.
"Ice," the story of a sensitive kung-fu-trained diamond thief who works for insurance companies who don't trust the cops to recover stolen jewelry and so they hire Traci Lords and her boyfriend instead.
"Red Sun Rising," the movie that asks the question, "What if the El Lay gang wars were REALLY caused entirely by Japanese samurai drug lords and their armies of black-magic killer ninjas?"
"Resort To Kill," an army of Mayan Steroid Monsters facing Rowdy Roddy Piper in the jungle.
BEST ACTION FLICK
"Backstreet Justice," the story of a female private eye in a scummy Pittsburgh neighborhood who's trying to solve all these murder and rape cases, only the cops aren't helping, and she starts to think maybe the cops are DOING the murders.
"The Dallas Connection," the story of a six-foot big-breasted foreign agent in the tiniest mini-skirt in the history of the universe, who has wild animal sex with people, shoots them in the forehead, then says, "God you were good--but hey, so was I."
"Enemy Gold," the saga of enormous-breasted undercover federal agents firing off automatic weapons and riding dirtbikes through the East Texas piney woods in search of buried Confederate gold while being hunted down by a Bolivian topless-bar-owning cocaine dealer with terrible diction.
"Midnight Witness," road picture based on the Rodney King case where a couple videotapes a police beating, the cops bust up their apartment, a dead body results, and pretty soon the couple is heading for Vegas with angry cops in pursuit.
"Quick": See "Best Flick."
BEST MINDLESS SEX COMEDY
"Bikini Drive-In," topless bimbos being hosed down on a parking lot while a bikini babe sits in the drive-in office counting money, having sex, foiling gangsters, having sex, hiring bikini girls to distract drivers on the highway, and having sex.
"Dinosaur Island," prehistoric bikini babes wearing nothing but furry loin cloths and animal-skin tops, running around a desert island being chased by giant dinosaurs and ripping off their clothes for some stranded Army guys who wash up on shore one day.
"Teenage Catgirls in Heat," the story of what would happen if somebody's grandma in Texas unleashed the power of the 4,000-year-old Keshra Cat Sphinx, causing cats to fling themselves off telephone poles and railroad bridges, committing suicide and turning into ravenous oversexed man-eating bimbos that prance around on tiptoe.
"Test Tube Teens From the Year 2000," the tale of high school students from the future who zap themselves back to 1994 so they can sneak into a girls boarding school, dress in drag, sleep with future Playboy Playmates, and convince Morgan Fairchild that she shouldn't carry out her plan to make all sex illegal.
BEST ACTOR
Sean Bridgers, "Road Kill USA," as the small-town South Carolina kid who, even after the fourth murder, still thinks he's just riding around with some ECCENTRICS.
Ben Cross, for two roles--"Haunted Symphony," as the composer who puts on his frilly shirt, starts playing the piano, and ends up strangling hookers with piano wire down at the local brothel; and "Cold Sweat," as the sensitive hitman who decides he doesn't like killing anymore, especially when the ghost of an innocent victim follows him around in the nude.
Miguel Ferrer, "The Harvest," as the pill-popping pottery-smashing burned-out screenwriter who wakes up one day to find his left kidney missing.
Richard Gabai, for two roles--"Assault of the Party Nerds II: The Heavy Petting Detective," as a sleazy detective who goes around El Lay taking pictures of people In Flagrante Aardvarkus, but is pressed into service by Grand Fraternity Wizard Arte Johnson to save his beloved frat brothers; and "Dinosaur Island," as the private who washes ashore and says "Please, God, let it be Club Med."
Gary Graves, "Teenage Catgirls in Heat," as the goofball "cat finder," a guy who drives around in a pickup with a vacuum cleaner strapped to his back, listening for cat brain waves so he can say things like "This has gotta be some lunatic with a backpack full of cat heads."
BEST ACTRESS
Terry Farrell, "Red Sun Rising," as the tough detective in high heels who thinks the gangs should work together but hates the Japanese because they took her dad's job in a Detroit car plant and caused him to work at a liquor store where he got murdered.
Kim Morgan Greene, for two roles--"Resort To Kill," as the fearless reporter who wears a lot of expensive short skirts and stands around the jungle while stuff blows up; and "Scorned," as the ditzy pill-poppin wife who says "Don't patronize me, I am NOT crazy!"
Nicole Hansen, "American Cyborg," as the heroine who's carrying a live fetus around in a backpack and only has 36 hours to make it ten miles to the port, where a boat will come take the fetus to Europe and hatch it in a place where there are still a few human beings left who don't have any fungus growing on their faces.
Teri Polo, "Quick," the chain-smoking guilt-ridden hitwoman who only kills for true love, helping slimeball DEA agent Jeff Fahey work off his gambling debts, so that later Jeff'll chain her to the bed, pull her hair, and make her yell a lot.
Vivian Schilling, "Future Shock," as a paranoid housewife, left all alone in her big Malibu mansion, who finds out that her suspicions are TRUE: there ARE wild wolves killing all the pets and chewing people's faces off in the Malibu canyons.
BREAST ACTRESS
Michelle Bauer, for three roles--"Assault of the Party Nerds II: The Heavy Petting Detective," as the lonely belching horny housewife; "Bikini Drive-In," as the ultimate scream queen, doing that Michelle Bauer vamp pout by the pool, in the limo, and, of course, at the drive-in; and "Dinosaur Island," as the catfighting virgin.
Diana Frank, "Eyes of the Serpent," as the nubile princess, frolicking through the woods in a chiffon gown while being chased by crazed black ninja knights wearing giant steel Jason hockey masks.
Margot Hope, "Femme Fontaine: Killer Babe For the CIA," as the Hot Honey who slinks around the globe in mini-skirts and lingerie, bumping off scuzzballs for the CIA and taking on a crazed band of lesbian neo-Nazis.
Michelle Johnson, "Body Shot," as the horny model who says, after a particularly sweaty session, "Did you just get out of prison or what?" and, in her big emotional moment, "I'm not a whore!"
Cassandra Leigh, "Midnight Tease," as the troubled young dancer-with-a-heart-of-darkness in a Nekkid Garbonza Joint who decides that something might be wrong when she starts having dreams where she slits the throats of all her customers and all the other dancers.
Brittany McCrena, "Taxi Dancers," as the little babe from Arizona who gets out of a cab one day, goes to work dancing with geeks, falls in love with the first pizza delivery boy she meets, considers marrying a gambling addict who's been married six times, and mostly sits around with her legs crossed and her eyes glazed over.
Rhonda Shear, "Assault of the Party Nerds II: The Heavy Petting Detective," as a hick bimbo who snorts like a horse and lounges around in a bikini.
Jewel Shepard, "Caged Heat 2," as the nubile, pouty-lipped CIA agent who carries a bag of cocaine through the airport so she'll get arrested and sent to an island-fortress Filipino prison to rescue a princess.
Julie K. Smith, "The Dallas Connection," as an undercover agent who travels around the world blowing up renowned scientists and doing amazing things in a hot tub.
Vanna White, "Gypsy Angels," who wears a gold-sequined bra under her clothes at all times and says things like "Love me, please, love me" and "He lied to me! Jeff promised that he'd always be with me!" and "Let me tell you one thing, mister. I am one fine stripper, real kinky. You know what I mean? You betcha," and, in her big emotional moment, "No more G-strings. No more smoky rooms, and potheads, and hookers, and those old terrible men, and the tassels."
BEST SLIMEBALL
Maxwell Caulfield, "Midnight Witness," as a corrupt cop who's not too happy when he finds out he just auditioned for "I Witness Video."
Rick Dean, for two roles--"Saturday Night Special," as the loudmouth redneck bartender who spends all his time watering down the liquor, counting his money, and going fishing; and "One Man Army," as the crooked sheriff who accepts money from a rich sleazoid who runs prostitution, gambling and immigrant-smuggling operations through an old abandoned mine.
Jeff Fahey, "Quick," as a lizard-face slicked-hair sleazebag DEA agent who says "I trusted you, baby, but you never should have trusted me."
Robert Forster, "Body Chemistry 3," as a sleazy network executive who beats up hookers, cheats on his wife, keeps trophy bimbos on his yacht, and says "A woman is not in jeopardy unless the threat comes from a man."
Sonny Landham, "Taxi Dancers," as the half-drunk half-crazy Vegas gambler, who says "I'm so rich I own my own S-and-L" and "A gambler has a death wish--tonight I'm betting my whole future on you, and I don't wanna come up snake eyes."
John Laughlin, "Improper Conduct," the ad executive who's so creepy, sleazy, slimy, geeky, oily, and generally a Reptile in a Business Suit that he spends all his time recruiting "executive assistants" he can sleep with.
James Lew, "Red Sun Rising," as a long-haired Michael Bolton-lookin assassin who does this thing with his finger called the "death touch." He sticks his finger in your ribs, like he's about to tickle your belly button, and it causes you to start throwin up and then keel over dead on the pavement.
Ron Pearlman, "Cronos," as the broken-nose killer who dances on his uncle's dead body and screams "Everything is mine!"
Andrew Porter, "Road Kill USA," as a twisted sneering redneck maniac with too much time on his hands.
Dave Thomas, "Cold Sweat," as the disgusting overweight Binaca-spraying real estate mogul married to Shannon Tweed who breaks a lot of expensive dinnerware and says "You're screwing around on me, aren't you?"
BEST BITCH
Lenore Andriel, "Eyes of the Serpent," as the bitch queen Corva, searching for that perfect nekkid girl to sacrifice on the altar of blood and become ruler of the world, while screaming "Do I have to do everything myself?"
Ami Dolenz, "Rescue Me," as the smart-mouth little rich-girl cheerleader Prairie Queen at a Nebraska high school who gets kidnapped by a a couple of Beavis-and-Butthead crooks.
Pamella D'Pella, "Caged Heat 2," as the black gang leader who shoots heroin, dances nekkid, and says "I am not your bluebird in a cage!"
Meg Foster, "Resort To Kill," as the cold-blooded mad archeologist who carries out the ancient Mayan ritual of chasing men through the woods until an incredible amount of adrenalin is shooting through their bodies, killing them, injecting them with cortisone and stuffing a plant down their throats, and turning them into unkillable warriors.
Beverly Garland, "Haunted Symphony," as the housekeeping witch who grinds up maggots and feeds em to the cast, then tries to kill the heroine so she can claim her body and be young again and have sex with a dead man.
BEST MONSTER
Uri Gavriel, "American Cyborg," as the grotesquely-deformed cannibal mutant leader who drools over a woman strapped to a cross and says "I believe beauty can only truly be appreciated through TASTE."
John Ryan, "American Cyborg," as the pizza-faced indestructible robot killing machine with an automatic rifle and a computer-guided targeting system in his bionic eyeballs and a nail where his finger is supposed to be--a literal finger NAIL.
Angus Scrimm, "Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead," as the Tall Man, hangin around eastern Oregon, going from small town to small town, cleanin out the mortuaries while his army of zombie monks roam the countryside in pink hearses, trying to kill the remaining members of the cast.
Woon, "Resort To Kill," as the most notorious serial killer in history, who has been killed by Meg Foster's men, injected with rare Mayan steroids, and turned loose in the jungle to become an indestructible killing machine.
Lenore Zann, "Cold Sweat," as the sexy ghost who gets killed in the first scene of the movie but FINISHES THE MOVIE.
BEST FEMME FATALE
Bo Derek, "Woman of Desire," as the Queen Slut of the Caribbean who sleeps with half the sailors in the Atlantic, causes Jeff Fahey to be sent to jail on a murder charge, and says "A long time ago I decided that the key to life was pleasing men."
Leilani Sarelle Ferrer, "The Harvest," as the sultry blonde who likes to dance with an ice cube in her pants and stand in the rain while saying "I like to get wet."
Elizabeth Gracen, "Discretion Assured," as the hot little call girl with a heart of gold, who says "I prefer primitive art, with snakes and scorpions."
Shari Shattuck, "Body Chemistry 3," as the psycho-bitch hostess of a sex phone-in show with PICTURE-PHONES! who says "Don't touch me, I might have an orgasm."
Julie Strain, for two roles--"The Dallas Connection," as Black Widow, the international assassin posing as the ruthless owner of a country-western topless bar who has to have sex with anybody she kills; and "Enemy Gold," as the brunette hired assassin from Houston who likes to dress up in black-leather topless outfits and do sword dances by a campfire.
BEST KICKBOXER
Traci Lords, "Ice," featuring a lot of scenes where Traci puts on a tight sweater and sneaks up on Italian hitmen and kicks them in the head before they roll down a hill, reach for their gun, and get shot four times in the chest, dying slow, agonizing deaths.
Chuck Norris, "Hellbound," who takes on a whole army of hooded demonic kung-fu monks and saves a bimbo from being sacrificed on a concrete slab.
Rowdy Roddy Piper, "Resort To Kill," the ONLY ex-pro wrestler who can actually act, as a cop who teams up with a grief-stricken Japanese samurai patrolman who accidentally shot his wife to death but lived to fire again, on a suicide mission into the jungle.
Jerry Trimble, "One Man Army," as a mild-mannered El Lay Tae Kwon Do teacher who sounds like a Latvian accountant with a hernia as he kicks righteous hiney back in his tiny hometown where a crooked sheriff is smuggling immigrants.
Don "The Dragon" Wilson, "Red Sun Rising," as a half-Japanese, half-American cop who's working in Kyoto when his partner gets wasted and so he goes to El Lay and searches for the wealthy gangster who did it.
BEST GROSS-OUT EFFECT
"American Cyborg": Transmission dropped on a guy's head.
"Body Chemistry 3": Licking. (Don't ask.)
"The Crawlers": Tree root through the eyeball.
"Cronos": A guy looks in the mirror, sees his face peeling off, rips open his shirt, and sticks his hand inside his stomach to see what it feels like in there.
"Enemy Gold": Tree branch through the neck.
"Eyes of the Serpent": Eye burned out with a hot poker, in closeup.
"The Harvest": Pottery shard to the jugular.
"Haunted Symphony": Composer pulled apart limb from limb by wild horses.
"Mirror Mirror 2": Table-saw to the back.
"The Refrigerator" Blender face-chewing.
"Road Kill USA": Jeff Pillars is a sleazeball motel owner and rapist who dies by having his mouth and nostrils Super-Glued shut.
"Shrunken Heads": Mouth maggots.
"The Unearthing": An old zombie woman sucks blood out of human wrists, claws her way up onto the roof and starts twitching until a 90-foot-long throbbing bloody muscle unspools out of her throat like a garden hose and snakes its way into the bedroom where a pregnant girl is sleeping and hooks up to the umbilical cord.
"The Unearthing": Garden hoe to the forehead.
BEST SCENE WE COULDN'T MAKE UP
"Angel of Destruction": Maria Ford is awakened by a prowler and does a five-minute kung fu scene in the nude, complete with scissor-kicks.
"The Crawlers": A guy escapes from jail by PICKING THE LOCK on his cell.
"The Crawlers": In the middle of a high-speed car chase, a guy pulls off the road for no reason and finishes the chase on foot.
"The Dallas Connection": Wendy Hamilton, a ruthless big-breasted federal agent, sabotages a Jet Ski by pouring Diet Coke into the gas tank.
"Demon Keeper": When members of a seance party start being slaughtered by a ten-foot-tall lizard demon who speaks through a larynx box, the house guests look temporarily surprised--then have another drink.
"Demon Keeper": Elsa Martin is a lesbian who massages another woman and says, "I'm very good at this--I used to be a misogynist."
"Dinosaur Island": Tom Shell, stranded on a desert island, finds a giant blue dinosaur egg and says "My God, think of the cholesterol."
"Eyes of the Serpent": Diana Frank, as a princess, listens to a story of horrible tragic guilt and shame and murder, and says "Well, we all make mistakes."
"Femme Fontaine: Killer Babe For the CIA": Margot Hope, in the title role, kills an international master criminal by knocking on his door and pretending he ordered her from an escort service.
"Gypsy Angels": Vanna White is driving cross-country when she sees an airplane, becomes disoriented by trying to drive and look at the airplane at the same time, runs off the road, rolls her car, and starts screaming "Get me outta here! It's gonna blow!" So the pilot lands the plane on the highway, runs over to the car, and pulls her out--right before it blows. They fall in love.
"Hellbound": Chuck Norris tries to kill the devil and all his minions--with kung fu.
"Ice": Traci Lords takes a shower but fails to remove her underwear.
"Ice": Criminals stage a running gunbattle in a hockey rink, during a hockey game. The game continues.
"Mirror Images II": Kristine Kelly plays a psychotherapist who has sex with her clients AS PART OF THE THERAPY.
"Nothing To Lose": Hero Juliano Mar is captured by the most vicious coke dealers in Montreal, strung up by his wrists, and tortured--by being punched once in the tummy.
"Nothing To Lose": Mumbledy-mouth French kung-fu star Juliano Mer points to a punching bag and screams "This is me!"
"Nothing To Lose": A woman is raped by homosexuals in clown suits.
"Rescue Me": Peter DeLuise, as a dimwit kidnapper, explains why he has an unconscious woman over his shoulder by saying "She just got Rolfed."
"Resort To Kill": A Chippendale dancer turns nasty in the middle of his routine and becomes a kung-fu killer.
"Saturday Night Special": Billy Burnette, in his big sex scene with Maria Ford, insists on keeping all his clothes on, including his shirt, and kisses her with his mouth closed, like a dead wall-eyed bass.
BEST DIALOGUE
Sarah Bellomo, "Bikini Drive-In": "How can you do this to me? I gave you the best three months of my life!"
Dirk Benedict, "Demon Keeper": "I sense an omnipresence in this house."
Jimmy Broome, "Angel of Destruction": "Remember me, Carl? You left me and my men to die in Angola. I didn't like that."
Dave Cox, "Teenage Catgirls in Heat": "Jesus! Suicidal Egyptian cat cults?"
Terry Farrell, "Red Sun Rising": "Men think they own women after sex. Nobody owns me."
Tina Fite, "Taxi Dancers": "My nipple's killing me."
Meg Foster, "Resort To Kill": "When I close my eyes all men are the same."
Nicole Hansen, "American Cyborg": "You're a cyborg! You lied to me!"
Julius Harris, "Shrunken Heads": "I will pluck out your tongues with bull cutters and roast them, and I will take your brains and chill them for the purposes of garnishment."
Andre Jacobs, "Demon Keeper": "Tell me--what did I ever do to get mixed up in your lousy karma?"
Joe Lara, "American Cyborg": "I'm what you call a realist--the only real thing is me."
Cassandra Leigh, "Midnight Tease": "I take off my clothes for hundreds of men every night. Sometimes I even LIKE IT."
Jessica Mark, "Angel of Destruction": "If this album hits, I'll drop him like a greased pig."
Rodrigo Obregon, "Enemy Gold": "Jewell Panther! You are as beautiful as you are deadly!"
Jennifer O'Neill, "Discretion Assured": "It's you! The queen of the sluts!"
Robert Patrick, "Body Shot": "I came out here with a couple of friends--Jack Daniels and Jim Beam."
Deanna Perry, "Road Kill USA": "I was abducted by aliens once. At least I think I was. There was this weekend when I was about 18 years old that I don't remember nothing about."
Roddy Piper, "Resort To Kill": "There is no jurisdiction when it comes to a killer, Captain."
Spridle Pollak, "Assault of the Party Nerds II: The Heavy Petting Detective": "Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?"
Poster for "Teenage Catgirls in Heat": "When they rub against your leg, YOU cough up the hairball!"
Ashley Riley, "Midnight Tease": "God, I hate men. Maybe I'll become a lesbian. On second thought, I hate women, too."
Tom Schultz, "Eyes of the Serpent": "Well, well, well, a man
wearing a metal pig face."
David Simonds, "The Refrigerator": "I am the waffle maker!"
Peter Spellos, "Dinosaur Island": "It's time to kick some monster ass!"
Charlie Spradling, "Angel of Destruction": "The broken nose is for the girl. The vasectomy's free."
Andrew Stevens, "Body Chemistry 3": "Why don't you slip out of that wet raincoat and into a dry martini?"
Julie Strain, "Enemy Gold": "And when we find them, we can hunt them down like small animals, and no one will be able to hear their cries of pain and despair."
Shannon Tweed, "Scorned": "In an hour, I promise, you'll be able to beg in two languages."
Chick Vennera, "Body Chemistry 3": "She's the kind of woman who makes you sit up and beg."
Shannon Whirry, "Mirror Images II": "I've got an overheated everything--just like mother."
Ray Wise, "Body Shot": "If you don't get the message soon, you're gonna be taking pictures of weightlifters for the Big House Gazette!"
Michael York, "Discretion Assured": "Get out, you stupid sniveling little bitch!"
BEST BODY COUNT
"American Cyborg": 64.
"Angel of Destruction": 58.
"Ice": 53.
"Shrunken Heads": 43.
"Caged Heat 2": 36.
"Eyes of the Serpent": 34.
"Resort To Kill": 30.
"Red Sun Rising": 25.
"Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead": 23.
"Enemy Gold": 22.
"Femme Fontaine: Killer Babe for the CIA": 22.
BEST BREAST COUNT
"Midnight Tease": 126.
"Bikini Drive-In": 34.
"Killer Looks": 34.
"Teenage Catgirls in Heat": 32.
"Mirror Images II": 28.
"The Dallas Connection": 26.
"Dinosaur Island": 24.
"Sexual Outlaws": 24.
"Test Tube Teens From the Year 2000": 22.
"Caged Heat 2": 20.
"Enemy Gold": 20.
BEST DIRECTOR
Tony Elwood, "Road Kill USA."
Rick King, "Quick."
David Marconi, "The Harvest."
Scott Perry, "Teenage Catgirls in Heat."
David Tausik, "Haunted Symphony."
All ballots should be marked with a No. 2 pencil and sent to Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221.
When the winners come out, NO WHINING.
JOE BOB'S ADVICE TO THE HOPELESS
Sleazy Lawyer Alert! The 202 Drive-In, on Rt. 202 in Media, Pa., has been demolished--and that includes the 65-foot high landmark screen, which weighed 58 tons. The 500-car drive-in was opened by Arlene Lenz in 1949 with the film "Tulsa," starring Susan Hayward and Tyrone Power. In 1963, she sold it to Budco Theaters, and they in turn sold it to AMC Theaters in 1985. A year later AMC wanted out of the drive-in business and sold it to Leon and Bernice Chetty, who run a moon-roof and sun-roof business across the street and had always wanted the drive-in. They ended up renting it to AMC anyway, but when AMC opened a nine-plex indoor-bullstuff nearby, Leon and Bernice had to close down because they'd signed a "no-compete" clause in the rental contract. So, as you can see, the LAWYERS got em. Keith & Ruth van Baak reminds us that, without eternal vigilance, it can happen here. To discuss the meaning of life with Joe Bob, or to get free junk in the mail and Joe Bob's world-famous newsletter, "The Joe Bob Report," write Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221. Joe Bob's Fax line is always open: 214-985-7448. Joe Bob also hangs out on CompuServe: 76702,1435.
Dear Joe Bob:
What is it with women these days anyway? The California Department of Fair Employment and Housing has made it so you can't even look at a girl without being carted off and shot for sexual harassment.
I mean, in addition to all the usual stuff, they've got this guideline threatening to send you to a forced labor camp for, in their words, "leering." What exactly is "leering" anyway? I looked it up in the dictionary, and it defined leering as "to look obliquely." So then I looked up "oblique" which is "designating geometric lines or planes that are neither perpendicular or parallel."
Now let me get this straight. Suppose you're walking along and you see a pretty girl and she catches you looking at her, but if you look away, you're no longer looking at her in a designated geometric plane which is neither perpendicular or parallel, which means, even though you're looking away, you're looking at her obliquely which means you're leering at her and she'll throw the book at you, get you fired from your job, seize your retirement plan and put a lien on all your earthly possessions because women haven't figured out how to make a claim against your future earnings in the netherworld yet, but it's only a matter of time.
Are things this bad in Texas?
Stu Rockett
San Leandro, Calif.
Dear
Stu:
Nope. In Texas, girls just beat you up.
Dear Mr. Briggs,
If couples therapy serves long-term (longer than one-night, that is) relationships only, there is a need for first-timers, too, at least in New Jersey: an all-night Notary Public. On the way to your place or my place, be sure to drop by and sign a release form documenting EXACTLY all possible variations on America's favorite indoor sport to which you may be addicted or you, too, may end up like Mike Tyson or the guy in this article. Don't get me wrong: I don't defend violence, regardless of provocation, but can a girl/woman REALLY expect to go to a fighter's hotel room at 3 a.m. just to look at his trophies without expecting to become one?
Your friend,
Bob Sturgeon
Richmond, Calif.
Dear
Bob:
Can a girl/woman go to Mike Tyson's hotel room at 3 a.m. and expect any known life form?
Joe Bob:
How can I put this? Well, I suppose I should just come right out and say it. Joe Bob, you have saved my life, oh wise one. I was a lost soul playing mumbledy peg with those bozos in the Dockers commercials. I even played golf. Yes, Joe Bob, I even stopped drinking Old Milwaukee tall boys. The shame! I tried to be radical when I should've been sensible. I became a whining liberal when I should have been a hardline offender like my forefathers. Iron Joe Bob saved my soul from countless "thirtysomething" reruns on Lifetime. The sad thing is that I am ONLY TWENTY-THREE YEARS OLD!
I needed help and I had no one to turn to. Women have gotten me zip in my life. Family's no help either. You can't count the tall boys. What was left? I found myself drifting through life not sure of my next path. I knew for sure that anything that involved beating a drum and touching another guy's spear was nothing I wanted a part of. I was lonely, lost and confused. Since we don't have any what you'd call major cults here in Connecticut, I decided to pick myself up the Iron Joe Bob way. What a revelation! I learned that my problems were not an isolated deal. We all are ruled by our spears. Spears make life worth living. They are the key to the highway. Thank you, Joe Bob. Thank you for helping me get in touch with my spear. You truly are learned and wise.
Sincerely,
Bill Strong
Bristol, Conn.
Dear
Bill:
Now that you're saved, always remember to wax your spear regularly, but never with a synthetic substance.
Dear Joe Bob,
For Christmas my Uncle Pat gave me a copy of your book, "The Cosmic Wisdom of Joe Bob Briggs," because, as he put it, "if you don't know about Joe Bob I thought it was time you did." Seems I may have been a little ahead of my uncle, because I had already read your column and seen your show on The Movie Channel and knew of your love for low budget drive-in movies. More about that later.
I wanted to write and give you some positive feedback on the book, particularly the chapters I could identify with the most. The first was "How Wall Street Works" because, quite frankly, my father's addicted to "Wall Street Week." I'm not sure if it's because of the financial advice or Louis' "sense of humor." That's not all, he also has this idea that Louis looks like George Washington, and he also comments on the dresses worn by the lady who does nothing but escort the guests to THAT couch (you're right, he does need a new one).
If that wasn't bad enough, he's also hooked on the "McLaughlin Group," which brings me to the next chapter: "Dee Cee." McLaughlin as a Captain Binghamton look-alike was a good call! And you were also right on about Morton Kondracke's hair, but judging by last night's program, you're one for two on Eleanor Clift. She WAS wearing milk-white stockings (believe it or not!), but she also joined in the bickering, too. Maybe she's a little more energetic since Clinton was elected. You may wonder why I know so much about these shows. I find them strangely fascinating, quite like a gory scene in a movie, because you don't know whether to watch them or turn your head away (or the TV off). Those shows get really boring after a while and I quit watching. My dad's the one in need of serious help!
The last chapter, "Trader Vic's R.I.P.," made me think of an incident in San Diego that happened early last sumer. We were at a local Chinese restaurant there, and me and the folks had ordered a Poo Poo Platter (we always do!). Usually we devour everything with no problem. This time, though, my mom took charge of cooking the beef on the "flaming barbecue pit in the middle." The beef stuck to the "barbecue pit," and while trying to pry those tongue depressors loose she ended up nearly flambaying the entire restaurant.
Before I close, I have to let you in on a little secret. Late night, when no one else is around, I sometimes find myself watching movies with titles like "The Pink Chiquitas" and "Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-o-rama." (Who could forget Linnea Quigley's lines as she is trapped in the janitor's closet: "What do you want me to do? Mop it to death?") Since drive-ins are almost a thing of the past in these parts, I usually watch them on TV. Hope you have a good year, Joe Bob.
Sincerely,
Sean Storrs
Phoenix
Dear
Sean:
I met Eleanor Clift the last time I was
in Dee Cee, and guess what?
She had on milk-white stockings.
People never change, do they?
Dear Joe Bob:
Marky vs. Madonna:
"Suck my ----!"
"THAT little thing?"
We hardly even have to read between Liz Smith's lines to see that was pretty much the dialogue at a party where the nineties' two biggest publicity hounds staged a bitch fight. Cher would have remarked, "Flop it out, Big Boy," and watched Marky with interest, and I sort of wish Cher had been there, because I'd like to have seen what he'd do, too. Oh, well, Madonna's young yet, and mellow's never been her strong suit.
But what about Marky? The fight started because he emitted a homophobic slur. Should we become indignant at him, try to get the whole world to hate him? You know, from the little I've squinted at his videos, skimmed his autobio and heard from friends who hang with him, his heart's in the right place. He WANTS to like gay guys. He's WILLING to pose for photos directed at the gay community. He was brought up to yell "faggot." Put yourself in his place. You've never had lapses yourself, Possums?
Think what good Marky could do the gay community if he weren't afraid of us. Let's not poke our fingers in his chest and screech him. Let's offer him our hands in friendship. Just a thought. Dibs. Line forms at the rear.
Love,
Strange De Jim
San Francisco
Dear
Strange:
Do we have to talk about these people?
I mean, really.
© 1995 Joe Bob Briggs All Rights Reserved