With precious little irony or snideness to distance himself from the enormity of his sins, Richards bravely stares right into the rouged face of the abyss.
A 12-page bimonthly overseen by someone named Milky Puppy continues on its quest to mercilessly mock and belittle all things that normal people hold sacred.
While it was displaced from the cover story to the Letters section, cut from 26,000 words to 150, it was the most important article I’ve ever had published.
The ‘Bama Sutra: Showing in sadly explicit detail hundreds of different techniques and positions for having sex with blood relatives or the merely toothless.
The latest gossip, hearsay, conjecture, slander, calumny, fooferaw, unsubstantiated suppositions, and inoperative statements from the world of entertainment!
After being translated into French, back into English, into Portugese, and back again into English: “For effleure external of the adventure, I will admit…”
“Since most people’s imaginations are confined to their own heads, and mine seems to have a radius of approximately 20 feet, I guess I can live with that.”
“An encyclopedic knowledge of premium-cable history and the ability to make up new slang words simply aren’t enough to maintain success in Hollywood anymore.”
One of the most intricate plots in recent movie memory (which I won’t even try to recount here), and like any good film noir, it’s thick with atmosphere.
Boogie Nights is, on the whole, an assiduously ardent portrayal of the rise to prominence and penetration into the mainstream of pornographic film in the 1970s.
To many, Orson Welles is best known for three things: War of the Worlds, Citizen Kane, and as a (barely) walking fat joke during the last few years of his life.
“What’s going on, Fejod?” He asked the top of Fejod’s head. It was a dumb question, but it would’ve been dumber if he’s asked someone named Bill the question.
A subgenre of films has popped up recently, trading on our knowledge of movie conventions and genre clichés, but even that subgenre’s starting to grow stale.
This feature comes to us from Merkin Aimless, noted second-generation British satirical novelist and author of The Lode of Auld Wanque and Spent Advances.
The year ends much as it began, with the minor addition of the bloody battle between the forces of good and evil on Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve 1999.
A pleasing selection of interviewed artistes based not on genre or payola, but cuz they like ’em, whether it’s Diamanda Galás, Skeleton Key, or Ronnie Dawson.