Sunday, April 23, 2006

hot partying and heavy powder, indeed

I have to confess that on Saturday afternoon, I was at a Wal-Mart in some random suburban town that Mark lured me to. I told him that the only good thing about being in a Wal-Mart is that no one can judge you for being there because they're there, too. He swore to me that the bargain DVD bin was worth it, that I'd never seen its equal. I wasn't buying it, but we got to the bin and, wait, there are real movies in here, not just Rocky V! (Although that was in there, too.) So I happily dug through for the next thirty minutes. I came out with four movies, one of which is a masterpiece called Shredder:

"Horror hits the slopes in this sexy slasher film about a gang of snowboarders on a one-way chair lift to terror! Featuring hot young stars, killer suspense, and snowboarding sequences to die for, Shredder is an ice-cold, rip-roaring scare-fest that takes terror to a whole new altitude!

When seven hot-blooded co-eds break into an abandoned ski lodge, the stage is set for a wild weekend of hot partying and heavy powder. But when the bodies start turning up, they begin to suspect they're not alone. Stalked by a psychotic skier, the gang soon discovers that on the slopes... no one can hear you scream!"

There are blatantly two people having sex on the back of the DVD, and a body dangling from a ski lift. This may be better than House of Wax. In case you couldn't tell, I feel the exact opposite for kitschy scary movies than I do for actual scary movies; I freakin' love them. It's better if they take place at summer camp, but I can make an exception for a ski lodge. I told Jason I'd wait for him to watch it, but that promise may be hard to keep.

In other offbeat entertainment news, one of my random home organization projects over the past week was to get rid of my videotapes, which really means put them in a box in the attic that will probably go with me wherever I go throughout my entire life, and someday my grandkids will go, "Seriously, why did Grandma have a copy of The Dead Zone?" And hopefully I won't be too feeble to inform them that the scene where politician Martin Sheen grabs a baby to try to shield himself from a bullet is priceless.

Anyway, thanks to Mark, I found that I have the old Sex in the 90s series taped on VHS. Remember those? They were hosted by Kurt Loder, and one of the storylines was those two oily brothers that drove a van with a bed in it and picked girls up by telling them they used to be in Bon Jovi. I seriously think I need to have a Sex in the 90s party. It'll be a whole back-to-the-90s theme; we'll get someone older to pick up alcohol for us and we'll put off the crap we should be doing and sit around analyzing MTV.

You know, not at all like what we do now.

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