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Since the commission of this podcast in late 2019, I have wasted an ungodly number of ticks and tocks apologising for it.
In that unrelenting carcinogenic spirit, welcome to this, FunFil’s nominally Halloween expulsion #2, accruing a week+ worth of obsolescence and containing, as per, little attendant relevance. Then again, if October is now to be nauseatingly accepted as “Spook Month”, I’m sure you can grant a nine-day amnesty. This is by no means by way of defending the Funfiltered ninnies, but I don’t say it often enough - none of you are perfect either. I really must remember to focus my scorn liberally. Most of you are just awful.
I take this opportunity/requirement for a blurb to mention the first horror flick what my eyes did witness on the silver screen, Voodoom II: Return of the Ragdolls. If, as I suspect, you’re unacquainted with the picture in question, it’s a 1973 blaxpoitation joint from estimably execrable visionary Waleed Benson-Huggs. Far superior to the much more conservative* Voodoom, the plot of Voodoom II: Return of the Ragdolls concerns the ragdolls from the inaugural entry in the franchise very much returning.
A surprising meditation on the African diaspora… a court case regarding the treatment of the cast… … more squibs than a Chinese New Year … the key ingredients for my intoxicating virgin sip of CinemArts’ darker libations.
Fourteen, we were, myself and boyhood chum Hovell Poash, sneaking into that screening. It was only as the lights dimmed that Hove’s ulterior motives became exterior - I cottoned on as his adolescent palm fumbled t’ward my zip and its underlying content(s). It was clear he thought the expedition was a pretext for queer shenanigans. He was summarily disabused of his belief. SUMMARILY.
You must understand, I feel no personal enmity towards the gay and I do regret the anecdote spreading like a Covid of prurience throughout the county. Very different times, the early 70s…
Never saw Hovell again after that. Curiously, nor did anyone else in our mutual circles. One hopes he found like minds. Dear God, one must hope that.
*The only province in which this ascription is problematic.
By Video VillageSince the commission of this podcast in late 2019, I have wasted an ungodly number of ticks and tocks apologising for it.
In that unrelenting carcinogenic spirit, welcome to this, FunFil’s nominally Halloween expulsion #2, accruing a week+ worth of obsolescence and containing, as per, little attendant relevance. Then again, if October is now to be nauseatingly accepted as “Spook Month”, I’m sure you can grant a nine-day amnesty. This is by no means by way of defending the Funfiltered ninnies, but I don’t say it often enough - none of you are perfect either. I really must remember to focus my scorn liberally. Most of you are just awful.
I take this opportunity/requirement for a blurb to mention the first horror flick what my eyes did witness on the silver screen, Voodoom II: Return of the Ragdolls. If, as I suspect, you’re unacquainted with the picture in question, it’s a 1973 blaxpoitation joint from estimably execrable visionary Waleed Benson-Huggs. Far superior to the much more conservative* Voodoom, the plot of Voodoom II: Return of the Ragdolls concerns the ragdolls from the inaugural entry in the franchise very much returning.
A surprising meditation on the African diaspora… a court case regarding the treatment of the cast… … more squibs than a Chinese New Year … the key ingredients for my intoxicating virgin sip of CinemArts’ darker libations.
Fourteen, we were, myself and boyhood chum Hovell Poash, sneaking into that screening. It was only as the lights dimmed that Hove’s ulterior motives became exterior - I cottoned on as his adolescent palm fumbled t’ward my zip and its underlying content(s). It was clear he thought the expedition was a pretext for queer shenanigans. He was summarily disabused of his belief. SUMMARILY.
You must understand, I feel no personal enmity towards the gay and I do regret the anecdote spreading like a Covid of prurience throughout the county. Very different times, the early 70s…
Never saw Hovell again after that. Curiously, nor did anyone else in our mutual circles. One hopes he found like minds. Dear God, one must hope that.
*The only province in which this ascription is problematic.