Date Archives October 2011

“Thrilled to be Undead! A Zombie-licious Exhibition”

1 Comment read Attractions, Pacific, Travel, USA, Washington, West

Immediately following my post talking about how played out zombies are comes a post about a zombie art show at Shindig Martini Bar, as I am nothing if not self-contradictory. Jason and I found ourselves there on a Monday night two weeks ago to take in some awesome zombie art by Kate Vrijmoet, and drink some delicious zombie-themed drinks, at least superficially. My not-so-hidden agenda was to twist Jason’s arm into taking a road trip to Hollywood to attend Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights. Little did I know that no arm-twisting was required, as he immediately agreed that we should go. I then found myself attempting to talk him out of it, saying “It’s a long drive. Like, nineteen hours long. There’s every chance on Earth that we’ll break up after spending so much time cooped up in a car together. And the car might break down and the attraction might suck and we could end up being murdered by transients, and then who would take care of the dog? Did you even think about the dog when you agreed to this?” Since I didn’t need to persuade him and I couldn’t dissuade him, it was decided that we’d be making the trip to LA that weekend. With the matter settled, we dipped into our drinks and checked out some artwork.

If you’d like to check out some zombie art and sip some zombie-inspired drinks, the show is running at Shindig through November 6th.

“Oh, please. I saw Paul Lynde do that same hackneyed trick on Bewitched.”

13 Comments read Everything is Terrible

I just left ZomBCon 2011; it was my first and last time attending this con. I’m sure it didn’t help my overall impression of the con that I think zombies are beyond played out (seriously, stop beating the undead horse!), but I figured this would still have some horror things I would be interested in, and even better: it had Tom Savini, the “master of splatter”, a special FX artist I highly respect(ed).

But I’m getting ahead of myself. My first experience with the con was taking a lovely thirty minute tour of the Hilton parking garage, trying to find a parking spot. After I’d finally found a spot, we followed some posted signs to the convention, only to be told to turn around and trek back to a different area to get our wristbands. Since I was most excited to meet Tom Savini (I’d brought my first edition copy of Grande Illusions for him to sign), that was my first stop. He could not have been less interested in having any sort of conversation with me, looking away even as I paid him money for an autograph on an item I already owned. I asked him one question–has he ever considered offering online makeup courses for those people for whom moving to Pittsburgh would be extremely difficult if not impossible, and he cut me off, saying he wasn’t interested in competing with himself, and dismissed me. If looks could kill, the burning glance of hate he shot at me while sending me on my way would have killed me six times over–and that’s the only eye contact he made.

Look, I didn’t expect him to be my best friend, to stand up and take a photo with me, to chitchat or become sworn spit brothers. I understand that it’s awkward, even exhausting, to meet a bunch of people who know who you are, when you have no idea who they are, especially if they creep into the territory of rabid fandom, and you suspect they might want to make a dress out of your skin or something (which horror fans might be more likely to do). But I didn’t interrupt his lunch, or stop him at the john with his dick in his hand, asking him for an autograph. He was there of his own free will, I paid him for a moment of his time, and even then I couldn’t get his full attention. There wasn’t even anyone behind me–I was literally the only person asking for a second of his time, and he made me feel like I was some disgusting substance he’d found on his shoe. It was so disappointing, I could have cried. Granted, some of that is PMS talking, but if you’re not a person who is cut out to do meet-and-greets at conventions, maybe you shouldn’t do meet-and-greets. I’ve met a lot of celebrities–tv stars, movie stars, rock stars, porn stars, authors, artists, from the just-starting-out to the mega-famous-known-round-the-world and each and every one of them was nicer to me than Tom Savini.

We walked through the dealer’s area, but I was so embarrassed and shocked that I didn’t want to browse–not that I was much interested in getting a con tattoo beforehand, anyway. The only other activity going on at that time was a film screening of The Devil’s Rejects with Sid Haig and Bill Moseley, but I’d done that at Crypticon a few years ago and didn’t see much point in reprising the experience, and I didn’t have any interest in waiting around for any of the other zombie-related panels. When we left, about five minutes later, I left through a different door so I wouldn’t have to come face to face with Savini again.

I suppose I should look at it this way: forty minutes of wasted time saved me fifty grand in wasted money on Savini’s special FX school.

It’s Alarming!

2 Comments read (f)Art

There are many alarm clocks on this earth, each one designed to wake you up at an hour at which you would not naturally rise, in order to do shit that you don’t want to do. Some attempt to lessen the blow with subtle chimes that are supposed to integrate into your dreams to wake you naturally, while others wake you to music to entice you out of bed, while yet others attempt the “foghorn blast announcing the end of the world” method. These might work at first, but eventually you’ll grow used to them, rolling over to hit the snooze button six or seven times, or maybe even turning the alarm off entirely, leading to an interesting telephone conversation with your boss during which you groggily attempt to understand why he’s asking you if you intend to come into work today.

Congratulations! Your “late to bed, too-goddamned-early-to-rise” problems are solved with my new invention: The Dog/Cat vomit alarm clock. How many times have you been woken out of a deep sleep full of sexy dreams instantly by the sound of a “GURK…GURK..GUUUUURK” occurring somewhere in the vicinity of your home? Unlike conventional alarm clocks which use the same sound every morning, it will randomly choose between a number of vomit and hairball sounds, ensuring that you’ll never say, “Oh, it’s just the alarm clock” and drift back off into sleep…because each time, it could be for real. Are you going to take that chance with your carpets? Remember: your pets always know what items in your home have the most value, sentimental or otherwise, and those are the items that will be destroyed if you allow pet stomach bile to remain on them for more than ten seconds. But wait, you say, if the sound is always coming from the same place, won’t that indicate it’s the alarm instead of a real hurl emergency? It would, if this were a conventional alarm clock. However, this clock comes on wheels and throughout the night, will silently move through your home, stopping in a different spot every morning that will have you rushing out of bed to your kitchen, your laundry room, your office, with paper towels and spot cleaner in hand.

Say hello to being on time for work every day for the rest of your life. Say hello to the Vom-Larm Clock.