Thank You, Fakeycakes

I have not been myself since Super Deluxe went under, making me unable to watch uncensored Brad Neeley videos. I am myself again. Never leave us, fakeycakes from YouTube.



Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to go rip all the audio from these.

To the Hobo that lives in my dumpster:

Please, live in another dumpster please. There aren't any nice things for you in there and you creep me out when I get home late at night with your loud breathing and rustling. I'm sorry you are a hobo, it must be really hard for you at this time of year but if you could just move to a dumpster that isn't on my driveway I would be very happy. I'm tired of sprinting into my garage.

Although, considering I haven't actually peeked over the top of my dumpster to look at you, you might not actually be a hobo. Here is a list of things you could be that are more horrifying than hobos:

An escaped rhino, waiting to kill my mom.
This is more terrifying because, obviously, I don't think you are trying to kill my mom. You are just trying to sleep and stay warm and maybe find some foodstuffs. But a parent-murdering rhino? Horrible. Get the intercourse out of my dumpster, rhino.

The Second Coming of Christ
I don't know why the second coming would be hiding in a dumpster in Fort Collins. Maybe this is a harbinger that the apocalypse will start in my yard. If you're in there, second coming, please find another place to hide for the next three years. My dumpster is not the best place for you to do that. If you come inside, we will make you tea.

Joseph Stalin
AHHHHHHHHHHHH GTFO, STALIN I MEAN IT RIGHT NOW YOU HEAR MEEE!

Necromorphs
Probably the worst possible thing that could be living in my dumpster. I don't even want to think about it. I will, however, be keeping a force gun in my car at all times from now on, just in cases. Also, hobo, if you feel some sort of zombie alien infection start to take hold of you, get as far away from my house as possible. There will be NO Necromorphs in my dumpster. NONE.


After some lengthy discourse with myself, I have decided you can stay in my dumpster, hobo. It will keep these other things from living there.

An open letter to awful

Dear Elliot Davis,

You are the worst. The absolute worst. I know you somehow continue to work in the line of work you've chosen, but that is probably just God fucking with you because you are absolutely the worst at what you do. I can say this with absolute certainty after viewing just one of your films: "Twilight". That movie/series/crazy girl fandom is terrible enough on its own without your awful awful cinematography thrown in. Circling shots cut together with other circling shots? No. Just...no. Most of the rest of this movie is blacked out from my memory as a natural response from my brain to its awfulness, but I remember those god damned circling shots, damn it. I understand this may have been the director's vision, and you are only the scapegoat for my wrath. If this is the case, I am not sorry and do not retract my previous statement because, though this may make you slightly less the worst, you are still the worst. You still chose to have your name associated with the camera work on this film, and that was completely up to you. No one was putting a gun to your head telling you to "make more circle-y shots! Yes! Yes more of those. Now, from a different angle! Yesssssssss oh yesssss oh man yes more more MORE!" If someone did do that, maybe you should have taken the bullet. You would have sacrificed yourself to uphold the forward march of film. Instead, you chose to let this movie be that much more terrible with your choices. Next time, I implore you, take the bullet.

Fitfully Yours,

Throwing up Violently in Colorado

Authors Note: I was originally going to post this on IMDB but my critique of this man's camera work grew into something of a monster and I could not in good conscience put this somewhere Elliot Davis checks regularly. I still thought it was entertaining enough to post here for my three readers. Though much vomit may have been spilled by me on behalf of this film, I still love you Elliot. I'm sure you're really great, aside from this circle bullshit. The possibility exists, I suppose, that Elliot is a regular reader of my stupid blog. The good Mama knows stranger people have been known to read it...