Tabloid Fodder

As I was digging through my inbox, attempting to delete the scores of junk mail offering me free pizza (obviously sent from a trickster on Fear Street) and penis enhancement drugs, I came across a shining gem from reader Nick (thanks again, Nick!): a tabloid article from '95 featuring Our Fearful Master!

I love that his son never reads his books. "I'm insulted by that." Heh heh heh. Also, I find it creepy that he spies on his son and son's friends. "I spy on them. I listen to their music and I notice how they are dressing." Dude.

The photo brings about a few questions. Why are Stine's fingernails so long? Why is that skeleton wearing a cap that reads "#1 Fan"? How can you be a #1 Fan of an author if you have no eyes? Why isn't Stine looking at his #1 Fan? What IS he looking at? Did his wife just bake crullers and is now bringing them to him on his Goosebumps collectors plate? What is wrong with that skeleton's finger bones? Why is the skeleton massaging Stine's shoulder? Does the word 'boundaries' mean nothing anymore?!

HORRORS!

Ghosts of Fear Street

Since I am a lazy glob of laziness, I haven't found it in me to read any Fear Street books lately (lounging in front of the TV in my smelly old robe and destroying my bladder with copious amounts of coffee if more important, no?). Or maybe it isn't laziness...maybe I'm just sick of dry crusty lips, homicidal teenagers, and enough pizza and Coke to kill a thousand horses. Wait. What the hell am I saying?!?

Anyway, the point I am slowly trying to make is that I think I will introduce the Ghosts of Fear Street to this here blog. The Ghosts of Fear Street series, for those who are in the dark (how I envy you), are quite like Goosebumps except a) they all take place in Shadyside and b) the ghostwriters are actually given credit...even though R.L. Stine's name is splashed across the front. These are short and they're fun and they're entertaining and they will provide more mindless material for this often neglected blog. Oh yeah--AND they take place on Fear Street (kind of obvious). God forbid we stray too far from THAT slice of paradise. *sarcasm* Of course I won't be abandoning the regular Fear Street books. In fact, "99 Fear Street: The Second Horror" is right around the corner. Probably. I think. Yeah, I'm pretty sure.

I hope this new addition pleases you. If not, go jump in Fear Lake.

I love you.

Lover Boy

I don't remember what site I was trolling (pun not intended...you'll see what I mean) when I came upon the following image, but I find this thing to be quite horrifying...

What the hell is going on here?! We've got a damn winged leprechaun/troll/devil imp hybrid playing his flute while dancing for his supper and a very stern shadow who is either frowning her displeasure or wondering who the hell slipped the mickey into her nightly dose of gin and cooking sherry. And why are they in a cave? I've never heard of this author ("A writer so popular that the library has to keep her books under lock and key." What library?) but I imagine she must have been pissed upon seeing this cover. Because it really has nothing to do with the story:

Laurie has finally returned to Idlewood, the beloved family home deep in the Maryland woods where she found comfort and peace as a lonely young girl. But things are very different now. There is no peace in Idlewood. The haunting sound of a distant piping breaks the stillness of a snowy winter's evening. Seemingly random events have begun to take on a sinister shape. And dotty old Great Aunt Lizzie is convinced that there are fairies about -- and she has photographs to prove it. For Laurie, one fact is becoming disturbingly clear: there is definitely something out there in the woods -- something fiendishly, cunningly, malevolently human -- and the lives of her aging loved ones, as well as Laurie's own, are suddenly at serious risk.

That fucking thing is NOT a fairy.

I need to read this ASAP...

Merry Christmas, Friends

Old Saint SICK