The Scariest Movie I've Ever Seen

The year was 1999.  Or maybe it was 1998.  That doesn't really matter, does it?

Before we all had cell phones and easily accessible internet info, we used to discover legends on our own.  Two friends of mine, Adam and Rob, were really into horror movies.

I wasn't.

Not that I scared easily or anything, but when it came to horror movies I was kind of a little bitch.  Ask my wife about how I had to watch Freddy Kruger at 1pm with all the lights on.

My friends and I used to go for walks everywhere, and usually we ended up at Jumbo Video (a Canadian video superstore like Blockbuster used to be except there are still a couple Jumbos open in a few places).  Adam and Rob would always want to check out the horror section and I'd tag along, always suggesting we sneak into the back porno room instead.  They'd look at these really horrendously stupid horror movies and crack jokes about the titles, the covers, and just how bad the movies looked.

It dawned on me that they actually liked them for how bad they were.  That's when I stumbled on this odd looking VHS tape - Sleepaway Camp.  Yes, I said VHS... long before we had Blu-Rays and DVDs we had to watch movies on VHS tapes.  We even had to be kind and rewind.

I picked up the tape and suggested they check it out.  It looked really bad.  Really cheesy.  In fact, I remember Adam saying something along the lines of how bad camp slashers were and that this one in particular almost looked too bad for even him to watch.  Now, Adam does have shitty taste in movies, but when it comes to bad horror movies I'll give him all the credit that is due.  He's 99.9% right most of the time.

It actually took us a few more visits to Jumbo Video before we rented Sleepaway Camp.  That same night I was given a VHS of Ultimate Warrior wrestling matches, but was warned that the previous owner may have recorded porn over it.  Either way, I was ready to be entertained.

We took the Sleepaway Camp video to Adam's house with a vast array of snacks that included Pepsi, chips, dip, doritos, popcorn, and probably chocolate bars. 

The movie is pretty cheesy, and almost too hard to watch at times.  It centers around a young girl named Angela, who is sent to camp with her cousin Ricky.  Ricky's the man, and he's protective of Angela because she's really quiet and awkward and all the pretty girls pick on her.  Then people start dying.  Mind you, they start dying in neat creative ways.  A poor teenage girl gets her curling iron shoved up her vagina while being murdered.  The camp's cook has a large pot of boiling water dumped on him, and the police give their expert opinion that he was "badly burned to death".

More and more campers die and we're left wondering who could be the murderer.  The flick actually does a pretty good job of keeping us guessing until we have a flashback to Angela's childhood and all is revealed.

...And I'm not about to give the ending to this movie away.  Watch it for yourself.  It WILL change your life.

We were in so much shock that we tossed on the Ultimate Warrior video to try and relax our nerves.  Then I realized it might really be porn, and none of us were in the mood to see a naked woman after Sleepaway Camp.  Luckily, the Ultimate Warrior defeated Papa Shango for our viewing pleasure.

None of us looked at a woman the same for weeks after, and even as we walked home from Adam's house we were afraid of what girls might jump out of the bushes and kill us with their "weapon".  We also began telling everyone we knew that they had to watch it just for the ending.  And we all vowed never to date a girl named Angela, just in case.

Sleepaway Camp has two sequels that are even cheesier but don't deliver the same shock.  Watch them only if you want to say you've seen them all.

- ryan

(*On a side note, Sleepaway Camp isn't really the scariest movie I've ever seen.  That was The Ring, which kept me awake for almost two weeks straight afterwards because I was so scared that I nearly shit myself like a little bitch.  But Sleepaway Camp holds a very special place in my heart.)

"Ay yo, Angela!"

There's Not Enough Love In The World

...here's a new poem called "There's Not Enough Love In The World". If you don't like it or you find it offensive, then you probably don't get the joke. Or maybe you just need a hug.

There's Not Enough Love In The World
written by Ryan Matthew Ewing

There's not enough love in the world
To go around
So you'll just have to do without
There ain't enough love, you see
You're just bound
To be alone forever, no doubt
It's because you're kind of ugly
And your eyes point different ways
You're about seven times more chubby
Than in your younger days
(Like, when you were only a couple months old
Don't get mad, it's just what I've been told)
And now you feel like something I just hurled
Because there's not enough love in this world

There's not enough love in the world today
There's only so much and most of it's taken
You'll probably die while masturbating
To the sound of your heart breakin'
Is it because you were snobby
To what that girl was wearing?
And your favorite hobby it seems
Is standing behind deaf people and swearing
("Fuck you, you fucking dumb deaf chick
Why don't you learn to hear and suck my dick")
And everyone stared while you sweared and swirled
(Swore, whatever, that doesn't rhyme though)
And you're stuck with no love from the world

There's not enough love in the world, okay?
It's been used up
By people who actually deserve it
Okay, it went to those who got there first
But try not to be down, cheer up
And for next time, you should probably reserve it
Except there's only one shot, one thirst
So you might want to consider suicide
Because the best just ain't yet to come
And you'll only be tossed aside
Apparently you're dumber than dumb
(...okay, can't really prove those cliches
it's not like we have access to your grades)
So let's recap just to drive you crazy
You're ugly and stupid and fat and lazy
And no one could possibly love you today
Because the world's all out of love
You can continue to probe
But there's not enough love on the globe
So just face facts
There's not enough love in the world

Suck it up.

Ghosts of Hallowe'en Past

Hallowe'en is only a week or so away, so I thought we'd all take a look at the costumes I've worn over the years.  Unfortunately, not all of them were photographed.

 

Superman ...a Rag Doll 

Would you believe I've actually dressed up as Superman on Hallowe'en more times than any other costume?  Yeah, it's true.  Probably about six or seven times.  That picture of me as a rag doll might not actually be from Hallowe'en.  You see, my sister used to just dress me up all the time and take pictures of me.

  

Steven Tyler from Livin' On The Edge (with Steve Desrosiers and Brendon Smity) ...the Ultimate Warrior

That half-black and half-white paint job didn't go over so well at my high school.  They didn't know what kind of statement I was making and I had to explain that I was mimicking Steven Tyler. Don't believe me?  Check this out.

  

Prince (with Riot)

  

Johnny Depp (Dana is Supergirl)

 

The Count, ah ah ah (with two sexy pirates) 

  

Prince Adam.... Super Dave Osborne 

Sometimes my costumes only make sense to me.  Kinda like my music.  The year I dressed up as Prince Adam was one of those years.  Those who recognized the costume really liked it, but I must have been asked about fifty times that day if I was Ellen Degeneres.  It was a similar experience with my Super Dave Osborne costume (which is hands down the best costume I've ever done) but so many people thought I was Evel Kenevel.  

  

Cobra Commander... Bret The Hitman Hart 

I didn't dress up last year, but this year I have a pretty sweet Slash costume planned.  Don't worry, when the pictures are ready you'll see it.

The Inside-Outside Penis Fiasco

... I can't believe I've never blogged about this before, especially considering it's one of the great stories of RFC lore.

...me in the year 2000.  Yep, look at the hair...

Let's bring it on back now to September of the year 2000.  Y2K was done.  The world didn't explode.  And the Artist Formerly Known As Prince had just become the Artist Formerly Known As The Artist Formerly Known As Prince because he changed his name back.

So there you have it.  2000 was a big year for big stories.  And here's mine:

I was working in a University cafeteria, washing dishes for just a little bit more than minimum wage.  They gave me free meals and made me wear a hairnet.  I had been doing this job for about two years and was pretty efficient at it.  That dish room was fucking hot.  The machine that washed the dishes was about fifteen feet long, and one dude would put the dishes in one end and they'd come out clean on the other.  I was usually stationed at one of those two ends.

So there I was one random Monday night, loading dirty dishes into the machine when I started to feel a little queasy.  Lightheaded.  Possibly puke-ish.  The old man working the clean end, Ignacio was his name, got me some water and a peppermint candy.  I kept doing my job.  The thing about those dish rooms, is if you're short one person then you're pretty much fucked for the entire night.  I started blinking profusely like I was going to pass out and thought I felt a little weird down there.  You know, the place where the manscaping takes place.  I excused myself to the washroom to see what was going on.  I pulled up to the urinal, unzipped, gazed down, and nearly fainted.

Something was really wrong with my dick.

Now, at the risk of giving too much info away, I don't exactly have a usual shaped penis.  Bear with me here, because this is actually important to the story.  I was never circumcised, and I have an extra fleshy part at the tip... but not right on the tip.  It's more like a hook.  Or an alan key.  Actually, I've always compared it to one of those toy ducks that drinks water.  Some of my closest friends actually call me Duck Dick.

Here.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yk71GY02diY Use your imagination.

But back to the problem at hand.  There was something really wrong with my duck.  I have a really good grasp on what it "normally" looks like, and this wasn't it.  Can you imagine what thoughts were going through my head at this point?  Allow me to share:

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

And then I vomited into the urinal.  Not sure who had to clean it up that night, but I'm really sorry about that. 

I went right to my boss' office, stunned and at a loss for words.
"Hi Ryan.  What can I do for you?"
"Hospital... I'm going to the hospital... now, I think..."
"What's the matter?
"...uh.... something...?"
"Something?"
"I think... something's wrong... with my.... uh...."

I had a female boss, and she was a very nice lady.  If my boss were a dude I would have just blurted it out.  Call me sexist if you want, but you try to say "penis" to a woman of authority and tell me how it goes.  So I just gestured toward my crotch instead.   I don't remember what she said, but I practically flew to the hospital.  Luckily, the hospital was only a block and a half away from my work.

The emergency room is not a fun place.  The first thing you see when you walk in is everyone else waiting to see a doctor and you immediately start to wonder how long you'll be waiting to get looked at.  As far as I was concerned, my penis was practically being sucked into another dimension by an evil demonic force.  But before I could see a doctor, I had to deal with the triage nurse.

"What's the problem?"
"Something's wrong with my dick."
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry, my penis."
"No, no, what's wrong with it?"
"It doesn't look right.  It feels weird.  And I'm very lightheaded."

She looked at me as though I'd never had an erection before.

"What do you mean by, it doesn't look right?"
"Well, to begin with it doesn't look right.  But for me, it really doesn't look right."

Another odd look.
So I grabbed her pen and drew her a before and after picture.  Right on my admission form.

"Wait.  This is what your penis is supposed to look like?"
"Can I please just see a doctor?"

I wasn't in the waiting room long, but long enough to phone my father and let him know that I may be dead by morning.  My dad rushed down for moral support because that's what guys do for each other.  If one of my best buds called me up to say he was bleeding from his dick or he thought his dick was falling off, I'd be there in a heartbeat.  I'd make fun of him later for it, but I'd be there when he needed me.

The doctor had me take off my pants and underwear, and he was accompanied by some student interns.  Great.  There's something wrong with my dick and two pretty nursing students are going to get an eyeful of it.  Okay, okay, I'm giving myself too much credit.  They'd only get half an eyeful at best.

The doctor went on to explain that my foreskin had pushed it's way down the shaft of my penis, and that's why it was looking so weird.  I kept waiting for him to say that it was a pretty common thing, but nope.  That never happened.  The look on his face was suggesting that he didn't know what he'd gotten himself into that night.  I completely avoided any kind of eye contact with the hot nursing students.  If I had been circumcised this would have never happened.  Imagine wearing a long sleeved shirt and pushing the sleeves up to your elbows.  That was my penis.

Yep, my muscle of love was completely exposed.  My penis was inside-out.  I don't think it's possible to feel any more naked than that.

The doc looked at it for a bit then handed me a big thing of gauze.  "Bit down on this.  Hard."
Before I could ask why he was yanking my foreskin back up my penis shaft.  I made a noise I had never made before.  "Please, try to keep it down.  You might frighten the other patients."  He actually asked me to try and not scream as he was pretty much giving me the worst tug-job of all time.  He yanked again and I vomited a bit in my mouth but somehow managed to swallow it back down.

"There.  All done."
"...um... no.  There's usually a little more."
"What do you mean?"

He clearly didn't look at the before and after picture I had given the triage nurse.  That's when I reached down and gave a little tug to put my hook back into place.  It was the least painful part of the entire experience.

When I asked the doctor how this all happened to me, he couldn't give me a straight answer.  He'd never seen it before, but gave me some bullshit about moisture and heat and maybe I leaned up against something the wrong way.

....?

He then went on to say that I should give that extra bit of foreskin a little pull a few times a day, just to make sure it was feeling right.  Yep, the way I see it, the doctor (a certified medical practitioner) suggested I spend more time playing with my penis.  I should've asked him to write me a note.

I went home, watched a few minutes of WWF Raw and went to bed.  The next day at work was a little awkward, and whenever anyone would ask about what happened to me the night before I told them straight up that my penis had turned inside out.  When the pretty girls I worked with asked, I added in that I was lucky to be alive.

What's really funny though, is how a couple weeks later I received a cheque in the mail for $13.86.  Apparently, one of those forms I'd filled out with the triage nurse was related to worker's compensation and I was reimbursed for my time away from work.  So in essence, I was paid almost fourteen bucks to get the worst hand-job of all time.

I'm such a whore.

- ryan

My Letter to The Little Mermaid

Dear Ariel,

You know something?  I don't hate you anymore.

While it's true that I used to have a huge hate-on for you and your little animated feature, I've put it all behind me.  The first and, until very recently, only time I'd ever seen your adventure was sometime in the mid-90's.  Sure, on paper your movie should have everything I like - a scantily clad redhead, dripping with water, trying to hook up with a dude.  I think I've seen another movie with this premise on the Internet too.

Anyway, the first "girlfriend" I ever had was really into your movie.  Probably a little bit too into it.  I mean, she was about as obsessed with the flick as I am with Aerosmith, and that's pretty unhealthy to begin with.  I use the term "girlfriend" loosely because while I asked her out and she said yes, I don't have any memory of us every kissing or getting to third base.  (What's third base like under the sea anyway?)

So yeah, in an attempt to get a bit closer to this girl I decided to watch your movie.  Meh.

Too much singing at useless times.

That's what I thought, and that sort of became my motto for Disney movies in general.  I mean, why did you feel the need to sing about how you wanted to be "part of that world" when it was just you and your little fish buddy hanging out together?  Why do Beauty and the Beast have that magical duet together when they fall in love?  Who does that?  Who falls in love with someone, takes them up to the bedroom, pulls off their clothes and starts singing to them?  I always figured that was a way to not get laid.

I understand why the old lady in Cinderella sings "Bippity-Boppity-Boo" though.  That bitch is crazy.

Okay, now I'm rambling... but you get the point.  So these days I have a two year old daughter.  The apple of my eye.  The greatest of all my creations.  And she's into Disney flicks.  And last week a commercial came on for your movie on blu-ray and I pretty much had no choice but to give in and watch it with her.

Mostly, I didn't care so much for the film.  It wasn't bad, it wasn't great, it was just sort of "on".  I really dug the scene where your boyfriend runs the witch through with the mast of his ship.  That was both beautiful and poetic.  But I found myself watching my daughter during the movie.  I was watching her watch the movie.  And she friggin' loved every minute of it.  And anything that gives her that much enjoyment is alright in my books.

So there.  I don't hate you anymore.

Sincerely,
Ryan Fan Club

PS - Your sisters are all pretty cute, and if any of them are available I think I can get a Hall Pass from my wife for a weekend.
PPS - While you and I may be a-okay, there's no way in hell I'm watching The Little Mermaid II: Return To The Sea.  Because typically, Disney sequels suck.

Ryan Fan Club and the Dickheads of Ass-Kablaam

...here's my latest in a series of goofing around with famous movie posters.

Presenting, Ryan Fan Club and the Dickheads of Ass-Kablaam:

Superman Vs Batman

Who's better?

DC Villains Month... Did It Work?

... depending on who you ask, you'll get a different answer about DC Comics' "The New 52."

Superman's Bad!  I'll say he was!

Some would say, "if it wasn't broke, why fix it?" while others like the fresh approach.  Many fanboys found the New 52 confusing - some of those classic stories we grew up with happened, but not really.  Or something like that.

Personally, I think it's time to drop the "New 52" moniker.  It's been two years now.  The new design of Superman is showing up on kid's clothing.  So it's clear that it's here to stay.  And it's not new anymore.

You might remember I did a blog about three months into the New 52 praising their fresh take on Superman.  That lasted about eight or nine more months, and then I got bored of the stories.  Honestly, the only New 52 book I'm still really enjoying is Supergirl.

So DC decided to have another Villains Month... I remember "New Year's Evil" from the late 90s when we were treated to one-shots of Mr. Mxyzptlk... and this time they'd re-introduce the core villains of the DCU.  Or is it DCNew?  DC52?  Fuck it, it doesn't matter.

Of course this was a marketing ploy.  But did it work?

DC Comics offered special editions of each comic.  These came with 3D motion covers.

Meh.

puddin'

All this really did was cement all of the New 52 naysayers who claim that DC is trying to return to the 1990s era of comics.

gross...but very intriguing.

Sure, some people were grabbing those special editions because of a low print run, so they're expected to be collectible, or some bullshit like that.  I buy comics to read them.  And the best ones (Tiny Titans, Superman Family Adventures, Bone) are the titles I can read with my little girl.

So, if you go visit Adam (the dude who owns my local comic shop and kinda looks like a more awesome Jesus) and ask to see what comics I buy, you'd see:
Supergirl, Smallville, He-Man & The Masters of the Universe, and occasionally the Marvel Wizard of Oz series.

So what villains comics did I pick up this month from DC?
Cyborg Superman, Joker, Doomsday, Harley Quinn, Zod, and Joker's Daughter.

All of this was based on characters I liked (except for Joker's Daughter; the title alone intrigued me) and wanted to read a single story of.  So this month I bought six extra comics.

I'd say their marketing plan worked.  Good for them.