Like Blake and his leper colony in John Carpenter's THE FOG, by campfire, we conspire...

Tonight, Johnny aims to strike down every bowling pin and spare his compassionate kin, he's a deceased mister, she's a, by episodes end, his released, at peace sister.

Good Evening, Match Scratchers!

"When midnight chimes, we both will meet,

Podcasting slick, sick tales to scare;

Master your fear, stoke dying heat--

Embrace the coal's glowing orange glare."

Welcome to CAMPFIRE SCARYTALES, where our campsite will affright till morning light.

If you once enjoyed, still enjoy or will enjoy henceforth, and in perpetuity, Nickelodeon's very own Are You Afraid of the Dark? broadcast that terrified tot and teen alike in the early 90's, then you will feel right at home on the forsaken rocks, atop the speaker's stone throne while occupying temporary, nocturnal space in this chillingly convenient clearing where fellow match scratchers meet to pour tales of terror upon an open flame. These terrifying testimonies are far from tame, the most unnerving, unsettling and upsetting scarytale wins the game and striking matches, along with striking deeply into your core fear gland, proves their aim.

If you're soon too frightened or anxious to sleep, if you intend to scream but can nary muster a peep, if your once spry movements retard to a lumbering creep, in becoming a slave to your fears, you have but yourself to blame.

Between midnight and first light we meet, our appetites prepped for delicious tales of fright, in your own unease, crawling skin, tingled spine and sweaty brow we take delight, it will be hours before you can see anything beyond our proximal campfire light, our weekly night light, we cleared, constructed and consecrated this campsite, in our Match Scratch Society we revel in delight, it is both our sacred and unholy duty to, your fears, incite, this cold cord of wood ignite--your amygdala affright, if, by some miraculous design, you survive the scarytale of the night, then it is your solemn Campfire Scarytale duty to find your Match Scratcher ass back to this haunted hollow with your own flashlight!

Today, you are tricked or treated, depending on your point of voodoo with our seventh submission tale of terror.

Between midnight and first light, strike a match and, a new batch of dismaying, fears and anxieties not allaying, tales hatch; the goal is to, the last told tale, outmatch and leave the loser, to the victor, begging for a rematch…with that Match Scratchers, sleep deeply and remember to, your bedroom window, latch.

Podcasted for the Auditory Approval of the Match Scratch Society, we whisper, through the mic, our fireside submission, sometime between midnight and first light of Campfire Scarytales: Submission 7: Dreamy, Teen Queen Society- Deceased Mister and His Released Sister (Living in Past, Dead in

Until next time, Match Scratchers!

Remember, only you can prevent forest fires, call out Campfire Scarytale imposters and disloyal match scratcher liars!

(Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Surrender, courtesy of the artist, Asher Fulero, with a medley of sound effects added for, you guessed it, effect.

Howdy Slick Tear Slippers,

You comprise, constitute and coalesce my throngs of both intelligent, emotional and emotionally intelligent cinematic fanatic fans--and you are legion. Is there a method to your leaking peepers or is that visual teary-eyed visage more situational and erratic? Some scenes and sequences in these slick flics are so dramatic, climatic, emphatic and traumatic you have no choice but to bear these emotionally bludgeoning burdens traumatic, feel these sensations thematic, acknowledge those very same feelings are far from pragmatic--in fact, at times, problematic, from the painfully rheumatic to cathartic and ecstatic, is it matter over mind or rather somatic; my singular passion for emotive films remains dogmatic, at times enigmatic, but for all things cinematic I am charismatic and in my preparation for these well-thought out aural presentations both candidly passionate and wildly

Have you ever felt the surge of saltwater surface behind the crest of your peepers, eager to burst, release, escape and glide down the contours of your countenance until it drips gently, but repeatedly off the pronounced end of your unblemished cheek as it slides confidently, unapologetically off the dimple of your chin and down towards gravity and the great un-fstars-known? What I fancy about a good godd*** cry is there is candor to the wet confetti, no untruth, half-truth or 3/4 lie, eyes speak in truthful tongues, they are too overt, too unsubtle to be sly. I strongly urge you, my cinematic fanatics, to partake in this legit shiz truth, this unadulterated cry, let the salty fluid flow and permit at least one sincere slick tear slip--before you die.

As previously outlined in Slick Flick Pick, films fascinate, they educate, they entertain, excite and, on rare but rewarding occasion, prompt us to feel, chuckle--occasionally chortle-- question life, comfort our strife, force us to reflect and correct crooked intellect, whether taking a taxing load off or tacking on burdensome emotional heft, sometimes these flicks are so tenacious, telling and true there is nothing left to emote but a well-earned, unapologetic goddamn cry.

Of poignant, profound flicks, I've selected 16; you will receive each slipped dose in increments of four and as each flick proves rather tearily slick, I'll shiz can the ado and light this aurally pleasing wick.

The right Slick Flick Pick can morph into a slick tear slip and gift you metaphorical, cinematic wings, make you feel you can fly, others tear at your insides, break your heart, punch your gut, clutch your drawn breath, make you cry.

The following Chemohawk Session broadcast will encompass 4 of my Top 16 slick, teary-eye inducing moments from Slick Flick Pick: (Note some of these were previously discussed tangentially on an already posted episode, others are yet to be dissected, in full, and posted, and some, while the specific scene is worth mentioning here, the film, in its entirety, is not worthy of a Slick Flick Pick induction.

There is a sweetness in sympathetic machinations and in sincere emotional reactions and ramifications to poignant cinematic stimuli.

I am your wide teary eyed Slick Tear Slip guide:

Why 16? Sweet-Sixteen! Because it is sweet!

Welcome, Slick Tear Slippers to: Slick Tear Slip: Phase 1: From Slick Flick Picks to Slick Eye Slits--Celebrating Slick Tear Slip Films that Make Us Cry; Now We Can, With Depleted Tear Ducts, Die (Flicks 1-4)

The four films discussed today, speaking to the specific melancholy, inspirational or moving moments and beyond, are, in chronological order: Backdraft, 1991, Saving Private Ryan, 1998, Blow, 2001, Warrior, 2011.

By the end of the first phase, your peepers will be fazed.

-Your worthwhile cinephile

Like Blake and his leper colony in John Carpenter's THE FOG, By Campfire, We Conspire-

Tonight, can you hear the wind wailing in the trees, or is that the cackle of a sly, deceptively spry witch, these boys will make crank calls when they're too lazy for ding, dong, ditch!

Good Evening, Match Scratchers!

Welcome to CAMPFIRE SCARYTALES, where our campsite

"When midnight chimes, we

Podcasting slick, sick tales to

Master your fear, stoke dying

Embrace the coal's glowing

-Falsetto, No Mr. accent on the to.

If you once enjoyed, still enjoy or will enjoy henceforth, and in perpetuity, Nickelodeon's very own Are You Afraid of the Dark? broadcast that terrified tot and teen alike in the early 90's, then you will feel right at home on the forsaken rocks, atop the speaker's stone throne while occupying temporary, nocturnal space in this chillingly convenient clearing where fellow match scratchers meet to pour tales of terror upon an open flame. These terrifying testimonies are far from tame, the most unnerving, unsettling and upsetting scarytale wins the game and striking matches, along with striking deeply into your core fear gland, proves their aim. If you're soon too frightened or anxious to sleep, if you intend to scream but can nary muster a peep, if your once spry movements retard to a lumbering creep, in becoming a slave to your fears, you have but yourself to blame.

Between midnight and first light we meet, our appetites prepped for delicious tales of fright, in your own unease, crawling skin, tingled spine and sweaty brow we take delight, it will be hours before you can see anything beyond our proximal campfire light, our weekly night light, we cleared, constructed and consecrated this campsite, in our Match Scratch Society we revel in delight, it is both our sacred and unholy duty to, your fears, incite, this cold cord of wood ignite--your amygdala affright, if, by some miraculous design, you survive the scarytale of the night, then it is your solemn Campfire Scarytale duty to find your Match Scratcher ass back to this haunted hollow with your own flashlight!

Today, you are tricked or treated, depending on your point of voodoo with our sixth submission tale of terror. Between midnight and first light, strike a match and, a new batch of dismaying, fears and anxieties not allaying, tales hatch; the goal is to, the last told tale, outmatch and leave the loser, to the victor, begging for a rematch…with that Match Scratchers, sleep deeply and remember to, your bedroom window, latch.

Podcasted for the Auditory Approval of the Match Scratch Society, we whisper, through the mic, our fireside submission, sometime between midnight and first light of Campfire Scarytales: Submission 6: The Twisted Calling, Prank Clawing Society--Ding, Dong, Witch and a Telephone Glitch (Crank Calls and Leg Break Falls); (Phone Police/Twisted Claw)

You mess with those who police the phone, you'll find up in a room with no toilet seat, afraid and alone.

His rubber band trick might prove quite slick, but if you want to enjoy AYAOTD, you must first turn to SNICK.

 -Your host: That's Falsetto, No Mr. accent on the to and co-host: Dr. Red Devil with a REH REH REH

Until next time, Match Scratchers!

Remember, only you can prevent forest fires, call out Campfire Scarytale imposters and disloyal match scratcher liars!

(Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Surrender, courtesy of the artist, Asher Fulero, with a medley of sound effects added for, you guessed it, effect.

Like Blake and his leper colony in John Carpenter's THE FOG, By Campfire, We Conspire-

Tonight, can you hear the bagpipes over the deep, dark grave of Blind Paul--when Sean types, or are those the wails, moans and pleads from the BB's book brought to adjust the attitude of he who gripes?

Good Evening, Match Scratchers!

"When midnight chimes, we both will meet,

Podcasting slick, sick tales to scare;

Master your fear, stoke dying heat--

Embrace the coal's glowing orange glare."

Welcome to CAMPFIRE SCARYTALES, where our campsite will affright till morning light.

If you once enjoyed, still enjoy or will enjoy henceforth, and in perpetuity, Nickelodeon's very own Are You Afraid of the Dark? broadcast that terrified tot and teen alike in the early 90's, then you will feel right at home on the forsaken rocks, atop the speaker's stone throne while occupying temporary, nocturnal space in this chillingly convenient clearing where fellow match scratchers meet to pour tales of terror upon an open flame. These terrifying testimonies are far from tame, the most unnerving, unsettling and upsetting scarytale wins the game and striking matches, along with striking deeply into your core fear gland, proves their aim. If you're soon too frightened or anxious to sleep, if you intend to scream but can nary muster a peep, if your once spry movements retard to a lumbering creep, in becoming a slave to your fears, you have but yourself to blame.

Between midnight and first light we meet, our appetites prepped for delicious tales of fright, in your own unease, crawling skin, tingled spine and sweaty brow we take delight, it will be hours before you can see anything beyond our proximal campfire light, our weekly night light, we cleared, constructed and consecrated this campsite, in our Match Scratch Society we revel in delight, it is both our sacred and unholy duty to, your fears, incite, this cold cord of wood ignite--your amygdala affright, if, by some miraculous design, you survive the scarytale of the night, then it is your solemn Campfire Scarytale duty to find your Match Scratcher ass back to this haunted hollow with your own flashlight!

Today, you are tricked or treated, depending on your point of voodoo with our fifth submission tale of terror. Between midnight and first light, strike a match and, a new batch of dismaying, fears and anxieties not allaying, tales hatch; the goal is to, the last told tale, outmatch and leave the loser, to the victor, begging for a rematch…with that Match Scratchers, sleep deeply and remember to, your bedroom window, latch.

Podcasted for the Auditory Approval of the Match Scratch Society, we whisper, through the mic, our fireside submission, sometime between midnight and first light of Campfire Scarytales: Submission 5: The Bookish, Dreamy Society--Babysitter or Nightmare Transmitter? Read to Escape, Type for Your Life (Medieval Machine and Evil Extremes); (Dream Machine/Bookish Babysitter)

Until next time, Match Scratchers!

Remember, only you can prevent forest fires, call out Campfire Scarytale imposters and disloyal match scratcher liars!

(Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Surrender, courtesy of the artist, Asher Fulero, with a medley of sound effects added for, you guessed it, effect.

Greetings, Cinematic Fanatics!

Allow us the glamorized, shamorized, scamorized pleasure of ushering you through the unclean, mean and obscene streets of this city of angles, city of fallen angels, city of the baneful, painful, gainful and shameful and deeper still into the bowels of Hollywood, as we drift further from the stable, sensical, salubrious shore and out into the muck of the tabloid, the innuendo, the duplicitous day players, detectives and district attorneys, the vile whims of villanous men of means, ladies of the night, the criminal fringe and troubling triple/double crosses that make us cringe; this complex plot will, on a brilliant screenplay, hinge, throughout the fateful night of Bloody Fstars Christmas, Stens and the bullpen will, on spiked eggnog, binge, from Wendall Bud White's switchblade, Dudley will feel a twinge, on your quasi angelic city rights, these 3 cops will infringe and at the gruesome murder sight at the Nite Owl Coffee Shop, Exley's sense of morality, obsequiousness and that massive Sequoia sized trunk up his a** will ever-so-slowly unhinge, whether you deal in cutting heroin or cutting up high-class hookers, whether it be by inhalation, ingestion or syringe, with White, Exley and Vincennes on the case, and still in the race, in your own dark deeds you will burn, or at the very least, singe.

For your 50th episode, Bloody Christmas is her favorite holiday, she ain't queer but she is Red Devil and I review our most treasured, respected, lauded, worshiped, venerated, admired, loved, beloved and applauded entries in the neo-noir world of cinema both back in the day and present day: an indubitably impressive demonstration of a good book transformed

Enter, with us, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy while we unwind the grind of reality… We offer you: Pick 50: Slick Flick Pick: City of Angles--Sid Talks too Much; him, They Shush--Beat to a Pulpy Mush (Hush-Fuc****-Hush); (Take Flight to Headlights); (L.A. CONfidential, 1998).

- Your worthwhile cinephile: On the record, loud and

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Like Blake and his leper colony in John Carpenter's THE FOG, By Campfire, We Conspire-

Tonight if you see blood flow behind the row, that's

Good Evening, Match Scratchers!

Welcome to CAMPFIRE SCARYTALES, where our campsite

"When midnight chimes, we

Podcasting slick, sick tales to

Master your fear, stoke dying

Embrace the coal's glowing

-Falsetto, No Mr. accent on the to.

If you once enjoyed, still enjoy or will enjoy

Between midnight and first light we meet, our appetites prepped for delicious tales of fright, in your own unease, crawling

Today, you are tricked or treated, depending on your

Podcasted for the Auditory Approval of the Match Scratch Society, we whisper, through the mic, our fireside submission, sometime between midnight and first light of Campfire Scarytales: Submission 4: The Silently Grinning Matchstick Society--Play Ball and Slay While the Sun Shines/On Blue Goo, This Jester Dines (Scary Pastime/Blue Slime); (Silent Servant/Ghastly Grinner)

Your host: That's Falsetto, No Mr. accent on the to and co-host: Dr. Red Devil with a REH REH REH

Until next time, Match Scratchers!

Remember, only you can prevent forest fires, call out Campfire Scarytale imposters and disloyal match scratcher liars!

(Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Surrender,

Greetings, Cinematic Fanatics! Allow us the

You're our Cinematic Fanatics; we, your worthwhile f****** cinephiles.

For your 49th episode, Brother Gambit and I

Point Break is our selected flick, so very slick, hence our

Let's unwind the grind of reality with Pick 49: Slick Flick Pick: West Coast Ghosts--Casing Banks, Chasing Breaks (Twisted Knee, Falling Free and a Robbery Spree); (Point Break, 1991).

Today, we discuss--the likelihood of being watched by a Keanu perv with binoculars when you're changing on the beach, the futility in placing a meritorious ex-college football player named Johnny Utah undercover, how easily Bodhi turns Warchild into a little bit** rather mild, the risks of shooting yourself in the foot when you are sprinting in a coked out frenzy and the nutritional value inherent in adding beer to your morning cereal.

- Your worthwhile cinephile: Crazy for far from Lazy, skydiving, stunt driving, surfing to dying Swayze radical, fanatical Falsetto Prophet and he who approves of Bodhi but prefers James fstars Dalton bodacious, righteous, gnarly Brother Gambit

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

F.C.F.U: Fighters named Pitbull · Thiago Pitbull Alves, Andrei "The Pitbull" Arlovski, Patricio Pitbul.

Like Blake and his leper colony in John Carpenter's

Tonight if you see smoke from your burning roast,

Good Evening, Match Scratchers!

"When midnight chimes, we both will meet,

Podcasting slick, sick tales to scare;

Master your fear, stoke dying heat--

Embrace the coal's glowing orange glare."

Welcome to CAMPFIRE SCARYTALES, where our campsite

If you once enjoyed, still enjoy or will enjoy

Between midnight and first light we meet, our

Today, you are tricked or treated, depending on your

Podcasted for the Auditory Approval of the Match

Your host: That's Falsetto, No Mr. accent on the to

Until next time, Match Scratchers!

Remember, only you can prevent forest fires, call

(Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Surrender, courtesy of the artist, Asher Fulero, with a

Greetings, Cinematic Fanatics!

Allow us the futuristic, yet told a long, long, long godd*** time ago in a galaxy not adjacent, not within a day's space flight but sithfuc**** light years away intergalactic planetary travailing, cosmos gazing, a dark-sided sinister cadre neither disrupting nor phasing pleasure of warp speed beaming you through any available rifts, tears or crevasses in the known/semi-known galaxy or the great

For your 48th episode, Red Light Saber Devil and I review one of our most rewatched,

We offer you, regarding this bright, vibrant and brilliantly well-suited for individual, couple, young, old and family matters alike sci-fi production Star Wars: Episode I-The Phantom Menace, circa May 1999.

Enter, with us, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy while we unwind the grind of

We offer you:  Pick 48: Slick Flick Pick: The Myth of Sithyphus--Kith to the Sith, Kin to their Sin (Padme Takes the Long Way); (Star Wars: Episode I–The Phantom Menace, 1999. Today, we discuss--the one-sided sense in the Anakin and Thin Padme affair, for I understand, much like the

- Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet and Red Sabered Devil

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Like Blake and his leper colony in John Carpenter's THE FOG, By Campfire, We Conspire-

Tonight it is a rotting, yet radiant mum mum that will upset your tum tum and one half of two twins during a full fstars moon!

Good Evening, Match Scratchers!

"Follow the drying leaves

Here we recite chilling tales

Lob another log upon the fire,

"When Midnight Chimes, we

Welcome to CAMPFIRE SCARYTALES, where our campsite

"When midnight chimes, we

Podcasting slick, sick tales to

Master your fear, stoke dying

Embrace the coal's glowing

If you once enjoyed, still enjoy or will enjoy

Between midnight and first light we meet, our

Today, you are tricked or treated, depending on your

Podcasted for the Auditory Approval of the Match

Your host: That's Falsetto, No Mr. accent on the to and co-host: Dr. Red Devil with a REH REH REH

Until next time, Match Scratchers!

Remember, only you can prevent forest fires, call out Campfire Scarytale imposters and disloyal

(Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Surrender, courtesy of the artist, Asher Fulero, with a medley of sound effects added for, you guessed it, effect.