My gut instinct tells me the era of slasher movies is dead when the practical effects guys start taking on jobs like this. The Friday the 13th reboot was bad. Cult of Chucky sucked. The new Halloween might work... but nothing can prepare you for this alternate ending to Fire in the Sky.
Every so often I come across an individual that makes me ask: How much tarantula fucking middle aged misguided trailer park moonshine did they drink before this became a good idea? It's like someone took Rosie O'Donnell and made it harder to see her naked.
After seeing so many of these situations, sometimes I find myself asking; "Surely this is a planted setup?" I simply refuse to believe anomalies this brazen would be shown less audible disgust than someone being told the McFlurry machine is broken when they get noticed.
Prozac-deficient e-girls are a welcomed sight here at eFukt... but this post isn't about the daddy issues. It's about intensity. These temper tantrums cut deeper than a Twitter feed, and while that might not be saying much, I'm confident you'll be impressed.
Another quarter, another gaggle of beatniks that are one step closer to finding a way to fit more military equipment in their gravy cave than an aircraft carrier. Emphasis on the mini gorlock seen around the 5:45 mark. You'll never look at cave diving the same again.
"If you're caught, DON'T STOP!" That's not a direct quote, and it probably shouldn't be. Especially for that broken fire hydrant seasoning the corner table at Smash Burger around the 5:00 mark. Just what in the fuck...
These stories have not been embellished, because - they need no embellishment. They are simply, horrifyingly, the story of the average degenerate human sharing space on this planet with you. Except that last one...It'd be more believable to call that woman a scientist, because the elements she's finding in there are undiscovered by man and Bill Nye.
If anything at all, you should be digging the distance some people will go just for the sake of being different. That's what porn is really missing: A relatable leading actress that's been kicked out of a WWE catering truck. Twice.
That feeling when you realize a backdoor studio in Japan with a $300 makeup budget is closer to the source material of the Resident Evil games than any official movie and whatever the fuck crawled out of Netflix headquarters put together. 2 thumbs up, would Jill off into my sandwich again.
Long before there was "help me stepbro!", there was "have you ever seen your mom naked?". The difference? People wouldn't (normally) contaminate a box of Kleenex's finest to radio shows. Social media was and still is our biggest evolutionary mistake.
