Sludge Central

Jon Stewart to Appear on WWE Raw Live from Newark, NJ Tonight

Posted on March 2, 2015 by sexyarmpit

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kLJR82sE3ZE?rel=0&showinfo=0]

WWE Superstar Seth Rollins recently called out the soon to be former host of The Daily Show, Jon Stewart. The Money in the Bank winner declared that he could be Stewart’s replacement and actually make the show watchable.

After Stewart cut his own rebuttal, Rollins ambushed him on one of his recent shows by making it seem like he was beamed in via satellite when he was actually right there in the studio. WWE has now confirmed that Stewart will appear on Raw tonight, live from The Prudential Center in Newark to possibly confront Rollins. Will they settle their gripe at WrestleMania? Doubtful that Stewart would actually take a bump, so it’s likely he will be in the corner of Rollins’ opponent at WrestleMania. Right now, it looks like Rollins will be facing “The Viper” Randy Orton.

Although he was born in New York, Jon Stewart’s family moved to Lawrenceville, NJ, where he lived for many years. When thinking of the path to becoming a household name in stand-up comedy and Television, it’s easy to forget the odd jobs one takes on the way to the top. Before satirizing the news on The Daily Show, appearing in movies, and a possible appearance at this year’s WrestleMania, Stewart held various jobs in Jersey, including working as a contingency planner for the NJ Department of Human Services and a bartender at the famous City Gardens night club in Trenton. Stewart is also a big Bruce Springsteen fan, naturally.

ExtraComicular Activities #2: Mars Attacks the REAL Ghostbusters!

Posted on February 25, 2015 by sexyarmpit

From the Comixology description:
Something even stranger is in the neighborhood when the restless spirits of some merciless martians are stirred from their slumber to attack again! It’s up to the REAL Ghostbusters to save New Jersey from this angry red threat. Well…if they must. Written by: Erik Burnham with Art by: Jose Holder and Ray Dillon
—

In 1996, Tim Burton revived Mars Attacks! and brought it to a worldwide audience. I was working at the local movie theater when it was released and it was one of a string of films during that time that I remember loving, but it didn’t seem to catch on. Although it broke even at the box office, it’s largely seen as a disappointment, except to many of us geeks and Tim Burton fans. But, it turns out these aliens have got a lot more to say than just Ack, Ack, Ack!

The inspiration for the movie was a series of controversial trading cards that debuted in 1962. Apparently, alien invaders wreaking havoc was very controversial in the ’60s, OK? Other than merely knowing that the series existed, I never became acquainted with the Mars Attacks! on again off again comic book series that spawned from the trading cards. But, one thing I am vastly familiar with is Ghostbusters! Whether it’s live action, Filmation, or the REAL guys, I’ve been crazy about them since I was a little kid. To have the chance to read a comic book that combines these two entities sounded immediately appealing to me.

Presently, the comic company IDW prints an all new Mars Attacks! series, but back in 2013, they pulled off a pretty epic mini-series consisting of one-shots that pitted Mars Attacks! aliens invading five other IDW comic book properties such as Transformers, Judge Dredd, Popeye, and even my favorite rock band of all time, KISS. The issue I wanted to read even more than the KISS issue though, was Mars Attacks the REAL Ghostbusters.

Released January 1st 2013, Mars Attacks The Real Ghostbusters actually ties in four concepts, not only two as the title suggests. The third aspect of this book includes a recurring War of the Worlds theme. You know what that means: it takes place in New Jersey! Of course, it’s not much of a stretch to have the Ghostbusters drive over the bridge to bust some ghosts in Jersey, but weaving in the Mars Attacks! aliens with War of the Worlds was pretty f’n cool. And last but not least, the nod to War of the Worlds also alludes to my favorite holiday because the historic radio broadcast that they parody here was a Halloween special that aired on mischief night in 1938.

A showdown where our cartoon heroes The REAL Ghostbusters attempt to take down some alien scum instead of a class 5 full roaming vapor might sound weird to you at first, but check it out for yourself because there’s a couple of cool twists along the way. As whacked out as some of the ghosts and villains on the REAL Ghostbusters cartoon were – angry, big-headed aliens in space suits fit right in.

This comic one-shot isn’t too highly rated, and it won’t blow your mind or prompt you to write a thesis on it, but this was a quick, amusing read and I recommend it if you are looking for light comic fare that depicts the REAL Ghostbusters with alien opponents that will only happen in this book and probably never again.

Things to look out for:

– The Mars Attacks! aliens crash land in Elmo’s Hill, NJ. This is a play on Grover’s Mill, NJ the site where aliens crash landed in the War of the Worlds radio broadcast. One part Sesame Street Muppet + rhyming word = parody alien crash site.

– I always loved the REAL Ghostbusters TV bumper where the ghost in the No Ghost sign welcomes us back to the REAL Ghostbusters. He does just that in this comic, a nice little touch to make it feel like an episode of the animated series.

The Columbus Chronicle: Part Two

Posted on February 22, 2015 by sexyarmpit

Where were we? Oh yes, we were driving up the New Jersey Turnpike after the Monster Mania convention and decided to make a little detour…

With the record breaking cold temperatures here in New Jersey, reminiscing on one of our warm weather adventures is comforting. We saved the best for last and did our exterior inspection first. The outdoor portion of the Columbus Flea Market is an endless sea of vendor tables. I may be off by one or two, but there must have been 75,000 vendor tables selling everything from knockoff colognes featuring scents like Sweaty Taint and Phys-ed Funk to multicolored belts, statues, and cheap sunglasses. Naturally, we made it our f’n mission to literally walk through every single aisle as if the tables were the hedge maze and we were The Torrances.

Let’s see how much more I can elaborate on the junk at the outdoor tables. We’re talking cheap motorized toys, belts, gaudy sweaters, faux jewelry, generic brands of laundry detergent, and lots of other weird, totally random shit. And then the handbags. Jeezus, ladies and their handbags. If guys were girls they would have one handbag, but girls are girls and they have like 12 and they’re always looking for two more, one for that wedding they have to go to and the other because the ones they have just can’t fit everything. I think I just had a heat stroke. Man it was hot out there.

My body does not handle the sun and heat very well, so we made our way inside to see what treasures awaited us. As we passed through the entrance, Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” lightly trickled out of the ancient P.A system like a refreshing mist of cool rain.

“…Nothing ever lasts forever…”

The white tile floors, no longer shiny, coated with a decade of dust, forced my eyes to the storefronts that housed all kinds of bizarre bullshit. To the left, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the neglected vending machines, red, encasing charms that now easily exceed their quarter price due to their age. A dollar at least, by today’s eBay standards. Soda machines had the cooler, early ’90s logos. We were in a blissful wonderland, one of the biggest and oldest flea markets in the state and we were having a blast.

You always know the types of stuff that will set off your nerd alerts, but there are also things there that you’d never expect would excite you. For example, I never thought I’d pop so big for Rebecca’s Soft Pretzels, mostly because I barely ever eat pretzels, unless they’re from WaWa and filled with sweet cream, but their menu signage was so damn gigantic, hanging from the drop ceiling like a cumulonimbus cloud made of toasted almond sprinkles, it was hard not to be enticed. I didn’t wind up getting a pretzel, but for some reason Rebecca’s Pretzel’s stuck out in my head. Probably because it was nestled in an offshoot wing of the flea that might have been some sort of Amish haven, if I recall correctly. But, I might be pulling a Brian Williams here, so don’t hold me to that. #WhoopiePies

The reason I go anywhere is if there’s a possibility of seeing or buying old toys, records, or collectibles, because what else is there in life? We immediately zeroed in on one store in particular. I’m sorry Wicker emporium, tablecloth store, Bologna Kitchen, and bedazzled ladies leisure wear shop, you can all go screw.

That Dracula blow mold!! I vant it.

As we continued exploring the shops, there was one store window that had plush toys and giant stuffed animals that looked as if they were manufactured sometime in 1993. If you’ve seen one knock off Lots-a-Lots-a-Leggggggs you’ve seen them all, but, coincidentally, it was another storefront where Jason Voorhees himself brought our Nikes to a screeching halt. “15% off marked toys,” read a homemade cardboard sign laying underneath Grover and Scooby. Yuuup! It was a collectible shop and we were heading inside in full force.

What did we do next? Dove right into this ginormous mess of CRAP, some call it treasure. In this case, it was like a collector’s neglected musty basement where stuff was thrown in every corner. There was absolutely zero organization and no logic to where items were tossed. Put it this way, if you were a contestant on Finders Keepers and had to find a baseball buried in this store, you’d be completely fucked.

It was impossible to process the magnitude of stuff that was stacked, scattered, hanging, and buried around this shop. Paint the picture in your mind of the following items in complete disarray: old magazines, records, statues, loose toys, playsets, sports memorabilia, autographs, mint in box and carded Star Wars and Wrestling toys, masks, ride-on toys, Cabbage Patch Kids, the list goes on and on. Really, none of it was in the best condition, but if there was one specific item that you were looking for, and they happened to have it, you’d be one happy camper.

This lack of organization was like anarchy. It can cause an unfathomable amount of anxiety to a collector. Seeing so many collectibles in such shambles agitated me a bit, but I also found some charm in all of it at the same time, since it created a stark contrast to one of those cold, museum-like stores with no personality. Here, it seemed more likely that there was something really amazing buried beneath the debris. Would we find it?

I kept gravitating toward a full wall-sized shelf that was packed with tons of random retro relics (how ya like me now?). The shelves were like the walls of the 53rd precinct and were literally bleeding junk out of each compartment. I needed a closer look.

OWNER: “You can’t go back there”

ME: “I’d like to look at something I want to buy.”

OWNER: “Nobody goes back there, you’ll knock everything over.”

This was a 12-15 foot span of wall shelving set behind another span of lower shelving chock full of stuff that the owner would not allow anyone to inspect. After his warning, a middle aged woman complained to me that she had the same issue with him and she didn’t understand why. Things couldn’t really get more messed up in there anyway. My eyes kept locking in on old Munsters and Gremlins stuff. Much of the stuff was still in its original, worn boxes.

Eventually, I pitched gaining access to the store owner again because there was one thing I wanted to look at further, I can’t remember what it was, but at the time it was screaming for my attention.

ME: “Can I please just go back there for a minute? I promise I won’t touch anything or knock anything over.”

Somehow, I must’ve assured him enough that I wouldn’t mess anything up and persuaded him to let me get in there. It was during all this that Matt was having a moment not too dissimilar to the time when Janosz locked eyes with Vigo, except picture Dino Drac and a 1979 12″ Kenner Alien figure. It was broken, of course. Even though the figure was loose, far from mint, and its leg was removed, the owner explained how Matt could fix it. The ludicrous price tag for such a fixer upper was so not worth it. It was so expensive that Matt wasn’t heartbroken when he had to part with it when we left. Now, if the Alien figure came with a homemade crutch and the broken leg had a cast on it with a fake Sigourney Weaver signature on it, I think Matt may have paid the guy double for it. Further down to the rear of the store you can see the $4,000 dollar Watto, he was out of both of our price ranges too.

Being in this store was both amazing and completely underwhelming at the same time. Then the mood became borderline sad. “The whole store is on sale for $50,000,” the store owner told me.

Smirking, I looked at Matt and we tried desperately to decipher if we both really just heard that. The price was a bit preposterous. He didn’t mean 50k for the actual deed to his space in the flea market, nope, just the garbage inside of it.

I decided to ask him the prices on a few things just to see if he was trying to scam customers. A vintage Cher doll was a “Hundred bucks.” She was loose, had messy hair, and didn’t have the original clothes. The high prices seemed to be a recurring theme in there. We didn’t buy anything.

I’m sorry to do this to you. Talk about an Empire Strikes Back ending.

A few months later, the poor old guy who ran the store died of a sudden heart attack at the flea market one day. I couldn’t help but think the guy may have been trying to raise money for his own medical bills, or pay some kind of debt, but who knows? Either way, without knowing the specifics and personal situation of the owner, the message I glean from this whole story is that you can literally become buried in your own stuff, and it can weigh you down and cause anxiety. So, why not open a shop and sell all your shit immediately for 50 grand?

Fast forward to November 2014. News broke that a large portion of the indoor part of the Columbus flea market burned to the ground, well at least the majority of the building did. I was shocked. What’s crazier is that I hadn’t heard about any of this until last week when a friend at work mentioned it. Most people I talk to knew about the fire, but not the owner of the store.

It’s been a few months since the fire, and we’re mere weeks away from the next Monster Mania, so there doesn’t seem to be a more appropriate time to reminisce. Looking back, not jumping right away to post a blog and pictures from this trip was probably for the best. It’s given me the chance now to look back on this place and the quirky memories of the day we spent there.

If you’re a collector or just like to go to weird junk places, they sort of all bleed together in your mind after being to so many of them, but this one definitely stands out, not for the bizarre toy den, but more for the PIZZA. Ahh, see, for a second you thought this post was booked to be the most grim in Sexy Armpit history, but, nope, I have other plans.

You’ve heard the old quote about how all pizza is good pizza, and even bad pizza is good because it’s still pizza, right? Unless we’re talking certain kinds of frozen pizza, that statement always rings true.

Inside the Columbus flea market we sat ourselves down at the stools of a large rectangular bar that served pizza. We were lured into Pete’s Pizza because it smelled amazing and the sign was glorious. Their mascot was like a cross between Little Caesar and Frenchy Martin. It was one of the best pizza places ever. Why? Well, a lot of it had to do with the lady behind the counter being so attentive to us, and of course, the pizza was delicious, but what cemented this honor was their choice of dinnerware. Our pizza was served on Happy 5th Birthday paper plates! This is the only thing that can help you forget about the death, disorder, and fiery madness that you’ve had to endure in this post. Happy 5th Birthday!

The Columbus Chronicle: Part One

Posted on February 21, 2015 by sexyarmpit

I fear that if I described a place as “a time warp,” it wouldn’t be as impactful as it once was. I find myself using the comparison fairly often due to various trips to old dingy antique stores or crappy flea markets that all look like they stopped operating legally in the mid ’80s. These are usually my favorite spots. To me and friends like Dinosaur Dracula it’s become commonplace to find ourselves at a hotel, store, carnival, or Christmas display that has been preserved somewhere in time. Same as it ever was…

There’s opposing ideas at work here. It’s quite astonishing that there’s such a newness to old places we’ve never set foot in that simultaneously feel so familiar, as if we have been there a hundred times.

For us, the thrill has not disappeared.

Often though, the thrill in question doesn’t inject my spirit with enough juice to immediately compel me to memorialize it on my blog, at least until the right time.

Whenever I feel like I’m building up some really decent motivation with a steady pace of blog updates, I get knocked off the ladder. Whether it’s a job situation, an issue with my condo, or just plain physical fatigue, publishing a blog post that summarizes in detail how there’s one line of dialogue in an obscure movie where they mentioned a random town in New Jersey is not even in the top 10 on my to-do list. I certainly wish it could be, but you know how it is sometimes. These occasions seem to pop up more and more as time goes on. In fact, one of them happened last summer.

We visited a really cool place and here I am writing about it 6 months later.

The aftermath of one of our Monster Mania con trips is the stuff of shame. You may have thought I was gonna go with “the stuff of legend,” but, embarrassment, blurry memories, foul language, obnoxious behavior, late night wandering, later night second wind drinking, surreal elevator rides, absurd verbal exchanges with complete strangers, are much more accurate. All of it builds to an extra long car ride home that seriously makes me contemplate what I’m doing with my life. But, fortunately, we had Tequila.

After a night of nostalgia, chaos, and noise, we (Freddy in Space, Dinosaur Dracula, the ladies, and myself) got very little sleep. At some point in the night, at least a couple of us were involuntarily cemented into the same position we’d been in moments before falling into our little mini comas, some of us with our faces set in that weird about to say something look. It was a sight to behold. It’s like that scene when all the citizens of Oz turned to stone in Return to Oz. It was bleak and somewhat horrifying.

The next morning, we were dragging ass. For some reason, the TV is ALWAYS on and blasting when we wake up, tuned to some poorly produced infomercial for a local car dealership. Once the self loathing surges to record levels, we realized that the sun was out, it was actually a nice day, albeit a few degrees too warm, and blindingly sunny, and that we had to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible.

For the ride home, it was all about the energy drinks and the most random mix of music on my iPod to power us through the drive up the New Jersey Turnpike. “If you wanna go and take a ride wit’ me we three wheelin’ in the fo’ with the green and Dino Drac and Ms. X in the back.”

With the surge of motivation derived from the Red Bulls and 5 Hours that were miraculously keeping our hearts pumping after our Monster con bender, we couldn’t just head home because that would be us tapping out, and defeat was not an option.

It would be an automatic fail if we arrived at home without taking some kind of detour on the way back first. If anything, it breaks up the monotonous drive. And I’m not talking about just rolling into Cracker Barrel with fanny packs engaged, wearing our Zubaz pants either, I said, “Let’s go to one of the most famous flea markets in the entire tri-state area.” I said it exactly like that too, as if I was in a local TV commercial for the place with the owners niece holding a balloon as his Guido cousin touted the 3000+ vendors and the 56 dining options including pretzels and meat sandwiches. “So come down to the Columbus Flea Market, Route 206 in Columbus New Jersey!” That ad probably ran right just before the car dealership infomercial on TV that prompted me to rise like The Undertaker from my temporary departure from consciousness earlier that morning.

In hopes of finding some dumb old toys, we all unanimously opted in for the flea market. After all, nothing cures a hangover quite like dusty old records, military supplies, and crates full of paint-chipped action figures.

Known as one of the oldest and biggest flea markets in the area, The Columbus Flea Market made us feel like we literally entered a time warp. Interest gauge: Piqued. Mood meter: pinned in the red. Who needs to be whisked away to beautiful Waikiki when you can can be abruptly hauled back to a flea market circa 1990? That rhyme scheme was completely unintentional, but pretty slick.

Unfortunately, it’s right at this point where you’re realizing that all this fluff was just a lead-in to Part Two where we’ll delve into one of the “special” shops we stumbled upon during our exploration of the Columbus Flea Market! Come back to read about it tomorrow!

The Devil Inside…The Hard Rock Cafe in Atlantic City, NJ

Posted on February 18, 2015 by sexyarmpit

That Stoned Pimp, The Jersey Devil shilling for The Hard Rock Cafe, Atlantic City in this collectors pin. Here we see JD all duked out in sunglasses, jewelry, and tacky beachwear circa 2003, drinking Martinis on the Jersey Shore with two bikini-clad hotties

Screw the long lines, head straight to the guitar shaped bar. I find it easy to relax there. The bartender, Cherish, is the type who is very much in control. She knows what she wants and what you want before you even decide. Even if you tell her what you think you want, she’ll correct you and tell you what you actually want. I mean, tell you what you want, what you really, really want. So, yeah, Cherish. I wasn’t sure if her parents were just hippies or if this was one of the best gimmicks ever where all the employees were named after songs. Unfortunately, none of the waitresses were named “Wannabe.” Zigazigah.

CHERISH: “You’ll have a Purple Haze”
JAY: “OK, I’ll have a Purple Haze…and these”

As I said that, I squinted as if I needed reading glasses while scanning the menu with my finger to pinpoint the generic chicken appetizer that I kept going back to. “These” referred to what I get pretty much every time, the The Tupelo Chicken Tenders. Better the devil you know.

At the Hard Rock, always keep it simple. The Tupelo tenders are quick, easy, and do the trick. Plus, for some unexplained reason, at that very moment, you’ll be compelled to spend the majority of the money you have to your name on alcohol anyway, so you won’t have enough resources to splurge on a steak the size of an actual Led Zeppelin. What kind of insidious urge overcomes you at The Hard Rock, Atlantic City? Why, it must be the Devil himself, but the one from New Jersaaay!

The Hard Rock specialty drink, The Purple Haze, IS damn good, but more importantly, where the hell else are you gonna see Buddy Holly’s 6th grade yearbook or a white leather jacket custom made for Richie Sambora straight from the New Jersey era of Bon Jovi? Not even The Smithsonian has relics so vital to our culture. The Louvre is irrelevant to me.

This Hard Rock Cafe pin is pretty badass. The Jersey Devil, circa 2007, looking fierce

while playing a sick groove on his axe bass.

You might find yourself mishearing what your friends and your waitress are saying because it’s crowded and loud. What’s worse, is that sometimes I’ve waited upwards of 45 minutes to get the food I ordered, but it’s all part of the ambiance. You know what they say “If it’s too loud and your chicken tenders take too long to come out, you’re too old!”

Moreover, music fans go to The Hard Rock to see some of that awesome rock and roll memorabilia. That’s right, you can get tanked, inhale a cheeseburger, and then drool over KISS costumes and Instagram pics of guitars that belonged to Bruce Springsteen and Pete Townshend.

Keep in mind though, if you’re trying to hold on to some semblance of street cred, an establishment known for their overpriced t-shirts/tourist uniforms shouldn’t be your regular hangout.

Although I’ve often fancied myself as some counter culture rocker who cannot play any instruments whatsoever, there aren’t many cooler, more inviting places for me to be in when I’m seeking refuge from the sweltering summer heat on the Atlantic City boardwalk.

For the past couple of years, there’s been talk of an actual Hard Rock boutique hotel and casino coming to AC to inhabit one of the casinos that has closed their doors. Boutique really just translates to EXPENSIVE ROOMS. Hopefully it does open one day, because I’ve always wanted to bare witness to the only existing pair of Meatloaf’s high school gym coach’s sweatpants.

And now, I leave you with a few more pics of some other kind of Jersey Devils!

NJ T-Shirt Tuesday 116: KISS of DEATH!

Posted on February 11, 2015 by sexyarmpit

http://www.rocknhorror.com

This post is appropriate of everything since we are approaching both Friday the 13th AND Valentine’s Day.

At this point in February, ordering a last minute gift online for that special someone probably isn’t the best idea. We’re merely days away from Valentine’s Day, so you’ll have to go to Walgreen’s and get the old standby chocolate assortment in a heart lavishly wrapped in cellophane. Having this tee posted several weeks ago would’ve been infintiely more helpful, but there’s always Arbor Day…you’ll definitely have it in time for that. Oh c’mon, I can’t be the only one who exchanges gifts for that.

Being that we’re beyond the online gift ordering cutoff for V-day, you can still get your special person a little something from Rock n Horror Apparel…for Arbor Day!

This online shop makes some kickass stuff. I came across them on Instagram last year. What grabbed me was their Kiss of Death shirt design. It’s a pun get it? And this next pun is also intended: this shirt is a KILLER! I bought it right away and I’m still in awe that a tee this cool exists.

For a guy like me who is obsessed with both the Friday the 13th franchise AND KISS, this shirt is one maximum mash-up. Emblazoned on the front is the iconic Jason mask adorned with Paul Stanley’s famous Starchild makeup design. The mere idea of combining these two things excites me and makes me wish that KISS would make a sequel to KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park where they have a run-in with the masked, machete wielding killer of Crystal Lake.

My only reservation is that if Jason Voorhees was to embody a member of KISS, he certainly wouldn’t be the charismatic frontman, Paul Stanley. Since Jason is more the quiet and reserved type, I’d peg him for the Catman.

Rock n Horror Apparel was founded by a rocker and a scream queen, hence the namesake. The shop also offers alternate Friday the 13th, Halloween, and Edgar Allan Poe inspired shirts along with various other clothing like thermals, sweats, leggings, tank tops, and even baby Jason Voorhees onesies! Check them out: http://www.rocknhorrorapparel.bigcartel.com

Nerd Lunch Podcast 164: The 4th Chair Army of DOOM!

Posted on February 3, 2015 by sexyarmpit

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Some of our Internet cohorts and I banded together for a hostile takeover of the Nerd Lunch Podcast. Villainous guest host Shawn Robare from Branded in the ’80s, Jaime from ShezCrafti, Rondal Scott from Strange Kids Club and myself infiltrated the Nerd Lunch HQ and started recording our own show in place of CT, Pax, and Jeeg. Just like the super-villains we are, we pondered some of our most favorite cartoon villains, those villains who influenced our career as evildoers. I had fun doing this one, mostly because I had a chance to talk about two of my favorite topics: villains and cartoons. Just a note about my monologue in the beginning of the show: that was a joint effort between Shawn and I. Shawn wrote the thing and then I added a few things, changed some wording, and made it my own, but credit should be given to Shawn for that as well! Do you think the real Nerd Lunch crew will be able to get their show back? Take a listen to find out and let us know your favorite cartoon villains!

Attack of the Morningside Monster – Film Review

Posted on December 30, 2014 by sexyarmpit

Recently I watched the 2014 independent horror/thriller Attack of the Morningside Monster and in this post I’ll provide you with my spoiler free thoughts on the film.

First, the synopsis. Set in the fictional small town of Morningside, New Jersey, we’re immediately introduced to an ominous figure in a black hooded cape whose about to apprehensively cut someone in half with an electric blade.

After we’re acquainted with the central characters, a body is found in the woods. From there, the police force, Sheriff Tom Haulk (Robert Pralgo) and Deputy Klara Austin (Tiffany Shepis), begin to piece together what can only be described as a series of ritualistic murders in their quiet town.

What’s stumping the cops is the symbol of a crossed out eye that’s left at the scene of each murder. Deputy Austin offers that it might be a gang sign similar to those she saw during her time working in the Bronx. The killer intentionally leaves this mark at the scene of his crimes in the vein of a ’60s Batman villain, which strikes me as silly. Why would the killer go out of their way to draw attention to themselves?

With the assistance of a university professor, Sheriff Haulk deduces that the killer has stolen a rare Central American ceremonial mask and a tribal mace from their collection and the symbol is a ritualistic mark from this same tribe.

The killers mask itself is almost reminiscent of the Witch Doctor from Scooby-Doo:

The movie had its quirks, quite a few of them actually. Here’s the biggest issue: I figured out the entire plot about 15 minutes in to the film.

The film gave too much away early on. Merely seeing the glimpse into the killers “lair” from the onset reveals that they’re in some kind of basement or unfinished area of a house. What the killer is doing to their prey, (removing their body parts and putting them into a bowl), combined with other glaring details, made it easy to figure out the rest of the movie.

There’s a lot of time spent on creating dramatic scenes to divert the viewers attention when there’s really no mystery about who the killer is. If you’ve seen a decent amount of horror or mysteries, you will figured out the plot rather quickly.

More severe than the previous issues I had, is the peculiar drug angle of the film. In contrast with the bit in the summary on the back of the DVD regarding “deadly serious local drug runners,” their ring leader and his stereotypical goons are not easy to take seriously. The two street dealers who they supply are not written as if they are everyday weed dealers. In fact, you may know one or more people who buy or sell weed in your daily life and they are pretty much just like anyone else. In this film though, the girl Jamie talks about how she “really needs a hit,” as she looks all cracked out and addicted. Judging solely by the content of this film, with lines uttered by her brother like “I know where he grows it,” he’s definitely referring to smoking weed – a drug that only an extremely low percentage of users get addicted to.

Putting this whole notion over the top is the fact that after she exchanges the bag of weed with Mark (Nicholas Brendon) for his money, (with the typical “you got the money, you got the stuff?” Oh my Lord) she sweetens the deal for him, offering to orally stimulate him for another $20 bucks. BARGAIN. It seems to me that this film assumes that girls who smoke weed A) look and act like crack addicts B) are total whores. I don’t know who’s worse either, her brother/weed selling confidant, Haws, who’s constantly chewing on a match stick. Do you know anyone that does that? I’ll take back every criticism I have of this film if they can computer generate that shit right out of his mouth. Clearly, someone thought it was a good idea.

The Sheriff’s best friend from childhood, Mark has a wife with a terminal illness, so there’s no reason why he would have to go to crazy lengths to procure illegal street weed when he could easily have her signed up for medicinal marijuana. Why does he have to sneak around if his wife has a major medical reason to have it?

I realize how much painstaking work goes into making independent films and my critique of the movie is in no way an affront, since I respect the filmmakers and what they’ve created here. In fact, the writer of the film, Jayson Palmer, is a fellow Jersey guy. In an interview on the Whatever Works blog, he says that he is “…a Jersey boy, through and through. I was born in Dover and raised in Wharton, which is a small blue collar town in North, central Jersey. I have a lot of love for that small little town. Morningside is based on Wharton. Or at least the town how I remembered it growing up.” Palmer went on to mention that he “…wouldn’t be surprised if Morningside popped up now and then in some future project.”

The main cast was commendable, full of indie and b-movie veteran actors. Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s Xander, Nicholas Brendon, stars and co-produces the film. His agitated performance as Mark Matthews is easily the highlight of the film. Matthews is a school teacher caring for his wife who’s afflicted with cancer and he’s doing everything he can to help her, meanwhile trying keep his own life together. His lifelong best friend is Sheriff Haulk played by Robert Pralgo who provides an almost sickeningly sweet turn as the quintessential good cop. Let’s just say both of these characters have interesting twists which I won’t spoil. And not just the token hottie, we have Tiffany Shepis as the tough Deputy Austin working for the Sheriff.

Even though the movie was filmed in The Peach State, the visuals of the town evoke the more rural areas of Jersey. Parts of Northwestern and Southwestern Jersey aren’t as city-like and overpopulated as what is typically associated on-screen with NJ. The filmmakers were careful to incorporate geographical authenticity. Morningside had all the nice little touches that I expect from a film set in Jersey. All the cars had Jersey license plates, Trenton was name dropped, and one of the guys in the woods sitting around with his friends by a fire even wore a hat that explicitly specified what state they were in! I love it.

Will you enjoy Attack of the Morningside Monster? It depends. I tend to support independent films, but, in general, horror fanatics will likely feel neutral about it. The film would’ve benefited from trumping up the scares and dropping a good chunk of the drug dealer subplot. In fact, Mark’s wife’s cancer issue was better kept as a subplot as well even if that meant making major script alterations. At 93 minutes the movie is pretty lean, but there’s still moments where the movie is meandering. It’s described on the back of the DVD as a “race against time,” but it’s not as pulse pounding as it sounds.

The film is worth watching to see how it culminates. Too much is revealed early on to make the ending hit you in the gut, but it’s not without merit. The payoff was pretty satisfying and one of the more positive aspects of the movie. One of the reveals toward the end, after we find out the killer’s identity, had a slight Twilight Zone feel to it, although I wish the entire film had that same eerie quality.

Without a big scare or a cliffhanger at the end, Morningside succeeds in providing the viewer with the notion that there’s a slight possibility that we’ll see this killer again…maybe on Netflix? A sequel would be an outstanding way to highlight the masked Shaman killer, thereby creating a new low- budget horror franchise that would likely garner some buzz and thrive amongst the horror-con scene. Ultimately, without some major tweaking, it’s limited as a franchise. Technically, you’d be cheering the killer instead of fearing. There’s still some hope though, The Morningside Monster has built a nice back story for itself.

Aside from Jigsaw from SAW, it’s a challenge to incorporate cancer into horror films because I feel like horror is my escape from the real world. While watching horror movies, I prefer to turn off my brain and just have fun. Attack of the Morningside Monster became more of a horror-drama rather than a horror-thriller. If the sex scene and few moments of gore get cut out, I could totally see this on Lifetime during the Halloween season.

Attack of the Morningside Monster is available on Video on Demand and download from most of the major online providers. On DVD 1/20/15. The movie was produced by Blue Dusk Productions and Making Monster Productions. I was provided with a review copy of this film.

The Neighbors Nerdfest Number 2: Merry Crap-Mas

Posted on December 25, 2014 by sexyarmpit

An instant holiday classic, The Neighbors episode “Merry Crap-Mas,” originally aired on December 5th, 2012. Let’s take a look at some of the best stuff from this yuletide episode.

Contained in this episode is the best Christmas morning scene in television history. You may not believe me right now, but by the end of the post I’ll make a believer out of you.

The story begins at the end of the episode and then we rewind to see how Merry Crap-Mas came to be. The Weavers roll a wheel barrow full of gifts over to their alien neighbors, The Bird-Kersees, because they need to hide the kids gifts in their house in order to for them not to snoop and find them. Remember, the Neighbors are aliens and they are completely unaware of the Christmas traditions. What Larry Bird does know about Christmas is that he feels it’s an “…orgy of commercialism.”

DEBBIE WEAVER:

“Christmas is about family and smiles and the joy of being together, the gifts are just one tiny part of it.”

LARRY BIRD:

“Oh yes, and there’s that fat slovenly burglar you call Santa Claus. Honestly, put on an apron for God’s sake fatso!”

Abby, instructing her parents on her letter to Santa:
“You should probably fax it, it’s getting pretty late.”

“I hated all three of them just now Marty, in that moment I hated all three of our children.” – Debbie Weaver, in reference to her “greedy little monsters”

“Can you remind me again why we want to be alone on an island with these children?” – Marty Weaver

“God what the hell? Is this the constitution? Who makes amendments to a Christmas list?” – Debbie Weaver

After being frustrated by their selfish kids who are all about the presents, The Weavers decide that they want to return all the gifts that they purchased and use the money to take the family on a tropical vacation. They decide on a time share in Hawaii. Marty is excited because this specific time share has that “tushy squirting thing.” Tushy squirting thing FTW.

Throwing a wrench into their new plan are The Bird-Kersees. At first, they just gazed at the tower of Christmas presents that were “hidden” in the middle of their house. It was mere moments before they tried to guess what was in all the wrapped boxes. Curiosity got the best of Larry and he started poking and ripping at one of the presents. Larry was overcome with the exhilaration of unwrapping a gift since he’s never done it before. Once he started ripping one open, the whole family joined in and triumphantly started tearing open ALL the gifts without realizing the consequences.

Larry’s sentiments of Christmas went into full reversal. Suddenly his feelings were incredibly positive as if he was Scrooge after encountering all the Christmas Ghosts.

LARRY BIRD:

(about little Abby) “…her teeth keep falling out of her face. What’s gonna fall off next? Her nose?”

DICK BUTKUS:

“Oh Father, I love when you make fun of children!”

The Weaver’s dilemma now is that they can’t return the gifts because the neighbors and all the other aliens in their community are playing with the gifts that the Bird-Kersees tore open with glee. They are inadvertently destroying them, doing insane things like tossing a brand new iPad around like its a Frisbee!

JACKIE JOYNER-KERSEE:

“So, we really screwed your pooch on this one.”

DEBBIE WEAVER:

“Oh Jackie, not only did you screw my pooch but you didn’t call her the next day either.”

LARRY BIRD:

“I admit it, I was wrong about Christmas. It’s a lovely holiday. The things, the trees, the snow…the things.”

DICK BUTKUS:

“Christmas is magical father, magical!”

Larry reveals his adoration for The Muppets:
“Tell you what, let’s watch The Muppets a Christmas Carol again – The Muppets, I like. I can really get down with The Muppets…” followed by his Kermit impression.

*Heard in the episode is Kermit the Frog singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

“I have never been so wrong about anything in my life, I love Christmas.” – Larry Bird

“I’m totally joyous, I have sugar plums in my head…” – Larry Bird

Larry has a change of heart and realizes that The Weavers have been good to him and his family so he sets out to right his wrong and save their Christmas.

Larry enlists his son Dick and their mission to rectify the situation is engaged. This entire sequence is so completely haywire and I’m in love with every second of it. Larry and son slow-mo walk to the tune of “Christmas in Hollis.” With this kind of build-up you know shit is about to get real. First stop, Larry takes his son Dick to the strip club…to get some girls to play a role in his master plan. Then they buy some pigs and ride home on their golf cart adorned with a Christmas tree and strippers.

Dumbfounded, the Weavers woke up to see this on Christmas morning:

What a scene it was! Larry Bird went all out to make this day special as indicated by the giant Christmas tree he stole from a car dealership, a Tiki statue, Hula dancers, a Polynesian fire dancer and bongo players, some farm animals, Christmas carolers, and Dick Butkus (remember, the whole family is named after famous American sports icons) as Tiny Tim who even delivers the classic line “God Bless Us Everyone.”

After the initial shock of the visual that the Weavers woke up to, Larry Bird waltzes in dressed as the jolly old elf who he was wise cracking about earlier. I think they had all bases covered here. Larry recreated his neighbors would-be Hawaiian vacation and then some. I’d say he more than made up for what he and his family did.

In one of the funniest scenes, Larry opens a yet unopened package to find an Etch-a-Sketch which he mistakes for “the new iPad.” He asks the famous drawing toy, “Siri, did I really ruin their Christmas?” Siri does not respond. Later, after trying to speak to Siri again and growing frustrated, Larry claims that he’s “gonna go Kindle.”

New Jersey’s Great Pop Culture Moments Vol.83: The Ghosts of Christmas Eve

Posted on December 24, 2014 by sexyarmpit

The holiday rock extravaganza that is the world renowned Trans-Siberian Orchestra left their mark here in New Jersey – Jersey City to be exact. The Ghosts of Christmas Eve, their made for TV concert special that originally aired on the Fox Family Channel on December 14, 1999, was filmed here in Jersey’s most famous movie house that opened 70 years prior in 1929.

As we’ve mentioned many times before here at The Sexy Armpit, the classic Loews Jersey theater, located in Journal Square, is one of our state treasures and it’s actually a star of this production in its own right. The beautifully shot special highlights glimpses of the theater’s cavernous ceilings, and the rich, finely detailed interior. It’s fitting that the concert is titled The Ghosts of Christmas Eve, because I wouldn’t be surprised if the Loews Jersey theater has some ghosts of its own.

It’s not just you average concert. What makes this stand out is the combination of the thunderous music with striking holiday visuals that help weave in the plot of a runaway girl who wishes she’ll be welcomed back into her home by her family. The story begins on Christmas Eve where we join the girl as she hides in an abandoned theater – the legendary Loews Theatre in Jersey City.

The TSO are incredible musicians and it translates into their concerts which often evoke a haunting quality, ultimately they’re very uplifting, but there are elements that conjure up memories and emotions, especially during the holidays. This spectacle may give you feelings of inspiration, forgiveness, and in this case, you may recall a lost loved one, like the runaway daughter whose story unfolds during the concert.

Ten songs are blasted through in just under 45 minutes, so there’s no time to be bored. Some of the highlights include “Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24,” “Joy to the World,” as well as several guest performances, two of which were Jewel and Michael Crawford. I’d forgotten how lovely Jewel is and her version of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” was equally as enchanting. Later on, perhaps the key moment in the special is a resounding performance of “O Holy Night,” from the former Phantom of the Opera, Michael Crawford. If that didn’t awaken the ghosts in the theater nothing else could.

The Ghosts of Christmas Eve is subtle yet bombastic, well crafted, and breathtaking. It will enhance your Christmas Spirit and it will also provide fare different than the typical stuff airing constantly on TV throughout December. It’s also perfect to play in the background while you’re putting decorations up or you have company over. Bonus if you have surround sound! You don’t have to be a huge TSO fan to fully enjoy this, but fans of rock music in general would get the most appreciation out of it, especially those from New Jersey. This special is still available on DVD.