Saturday, October 31, 2009

Scary numbers extraordinaire

25 candies you don't want for Halloween.

25 of the scariest science experiments ever conducted.

The 20 most hilarious scare prank videos.

The 15 best horror movies.

10 of the weirdest horror movie theme songs.

The 15 most offensive Halloween costumes.


6 real people who turned there houses into death traps.

6 creepy urban legends that happen to be true.

6 of the creepiest places on earth.

Numbered up for Halloween

The top 10 ghost ships.

The top 7 Halloween pranks gone wrong.

7 horrific boogeymen used to scare children around the world.

So much Halloween, so little time

Here are some interesting last minute links to enhance your Halloween experience.

How to make your very own zombie.

Forget your costume, it's time to think of what you're penis is going to wear for Halloween. Personally, I like the beer condom. It gives new meaning to have a drink on me, or I like a little head on my beer.

If Michael Myers was on Twitter.

Halloween by the numbers

Top 10 Freddy kills.

Top 10 Jason kills

Top 20 Michael Myers kills

Which witch is which?

Pumpkin carving: Happy Halloween

Friday, October 30, 2009

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Monday, October 26, 2009

Friday, October 23, 2009

Friday photo bombage

And this is how orange juice is made.

Perhaps he was just trying to find a phone booth?

Anyone seen Drag Me to Hell?

I'll take the sexy one who looks like Randy Bachman.

Pictures are always better when the moon is out.

What's with dudes always wanting to spoil group shots of girls?

Wait...why am I even asking this question?

More pumpkin carving ideas

What pisses me off #5

They just do. I don't have to explain anything to you.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Pumpkin carving 101

Not sure what to carve into your pumpkin this year? Afraid it will look like every other year; like your two-year-old carved it?

Well, over the next two weeks I will give you some ideas of images that will set your pumpkin apart from all the other simpleton jack-o-lanterns on the street.

In act, the kids will be so intrigued by your masterful work of art, you probably won't have to shell out any candy. OK, maybe just the candy with foreign objects embedded inside.

Psycho Pumpkin

What pisses me off #4

That's right. The public library. I hadn't been in one since high school, but the other day I was walking by one and thought, "what the hell".

Let me tell you, I was sooooo disappointed. Did you know that there is no porn to be found anywhere in the library?

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Improbable movie trading cards #1

Hijacking Heaven final

The Apache helicopter swayed lightly from the tree tops; the branches creaked and moaned from bearing the weight of the machine that had fallen from the sky into the net of foliage. The chopper was missing pieces. Gone were the canons and one rocket launcher, the other, deflowered of its payload, hung askew, twisted and unusable. Two of the blades were broken, truncated near the center spindle; the others were missing altogether and had sheared off the rotors and tail section in the process.

Oil dribbled from the nose and wisps of smoke swirled upward from the main body of the craft. The odour of jet fuel permeated the cockpit with a thick invading pungency. Although the computer controls flickered with an erratic frequency; trying to wake up from an unexpected nap, the cockpit itself, was still intact from the reinforced exterior armour and Kevlar shielding making the chopper able to withstand the impact of a crash without sustaining damage to the crew.

Rabbit slowly pulled his head up; the harness straps holding him fast to the chair. Below the forest floor gazed up at him from thirty feet away. He hung from an angle and his stomach churned with the pull of gravity like one suspended from the arch of a roller coaster loop suddenly robbed of momentum.

A sharp overwhelming pain stabbed at the boy’s leg in staggered bursts. It was pinned in an awkward angle between the door and the seat. Rabbit let out a yelp when he tried to move it and tears poured from his eyes at the intensity of the hurt. He reached his hand down frantically tugging at the wetness of his pant leg where an obvious wound bled into the fabric. A warmth emanated from his fingers and the pain lessened. Rabbit applied more pressure to the area and the comfort spread quickly through his entire leg relieving all throbbing.

He didn’t know how long he’d been hanging there, minutes, hours, but he had no memory of the crash. In fact, he had no memory of how he got there, or where he was, or why the pain in his leg was suddenly gone from one touch of his hand. Rabbit brought his hand up to his face, wiggling his fingers. He looked at them with great wonder.

Around him the metal groaned and the craft slipped downward in the branches with a sudden jolt. The boy caught his breath waiting for the impact, but the helicopter held fast to thicker, lower limbs.

"I have to get out of here."

Rabbit fumbled with the four-point harness, but the buckle seemed to be jammed, holding him tight to the cradle of the flight chair.

Below him he could now see the forest floor begin to move and realized there were people below; soldiers in camouflage uniforms moving toward his lofty perch. Some took cover from nearby trees with weapons trained on his position, while others tossed ropes to upper branches and started to scale the bark in his direction.

"Why are they pointing guns at me? I didn’t do anything, did I?"

Rabbit felt a sudden attack of panic and fear. He was helplessly trapped with no escape.

Why were they doing this. Why were they after him?

Rabbit felt a rising sensation swell in him. His vision seemed obscured as if the world before him had suddenly been doused in a blue light; a splash on an artist’s canvass who has no other color to choose from. A blue so dense, so intense, it almost seemed black at its essence. It had a life of its own. It changed and moved across his vision like a living entity, cloaking everything in its aura. It spoke to him, telling him wonderful things, incredible things, evil things, opening the vault to the quintessence of all knowledge. The blue void was changing now, becoming an opaque veil of death and destruction. He closed his eyes to try and shut it out, but the signal only increased in its force, its greatness, its passion. Rabbit began to hyperventilate as his muscles when rigid, testing the restraints of his harness. His head shook like that of a rag doll. His body convulsed and seized. The fear was being replaced by an uncontrollable surge of anger swelling from behind. Kill them all! It said.

Rabbit bit down hard and ground his teeth with such force, he cracked the enamel and blood filled his mouth with the coppery taste from split gums. He hissed; spewing saliva and blood over his chin and the cockpit controls.

Below him, the soldiers grabbed at their heads as if struck with an extreme pain, falling to their knees in agony. They grasped blindly at their weapons and began to turn them on each other, or on themselves. The fire-fight was brief, but devastating as brain and blood burst in a red mist from skulls and chest cavities, staining the ground with a black wetness. Explosions erupted on the perimeter as all around as man and machine were caught in the onslaught of this telekinetic attack.

The forest was ablaze with a pyre of unnatural white light and fire, until, as if caught in the suction of a great vacuum, all evidence of devastation and horror was suddenly pulled into a vortex of nothingness. Flesh and bone were pulverized to powder blown like dust to the four winds, metal and steel, into a liquid puddles, leaching into the very soil until all indication of conflict had been erased.

Then silence.

Rabbit’s rapid breathing slowed as the boy began to calm down. His eyes opened to reveal deep dark blue discs, his pupils wide and terrifying. The corners of his mouth curled in a devious smile. His body again arched violently in his seat and the windscreen of the Apache helicopter blew out in a million pieces of shattered glass.

Below the earth began to rumble and shook with hostile vehemence. A crevasse of rock belched upward splitting the earth in two. Still the boy’s smile widened into almost a grin as his body shook from convulsions and the blood from his mouth ran like a river to a pool on his chest. The helicopter tumbled forward, smashing through all obstacles in its downward tumble, falling into the bottomless void...

Sheppard bolted up in his bed; sweat dripping from his brow. He’d had this dream over and over for the last five years. The guilt of not being able to save the boy, of not knowing what had happened, had long ago taken its toll on him.

At first he and Malcolm Buck had tried legal channels to bring the light of truth to what was called the Montana Massacre, and hopefully find Rabbit, but the red tape led to nothing but brick walls and dead ends. Officially, there were no indications of any survivors in the aftermath of what was described as a horrific and cowardly display of terrorism.

Still there was enough of a public outcry to keep a new war on terror from erupting as the powers that be, opted for economic sanctions against the countries believed responsible for the attacks.

The chatter through conspiracy websites were hot and heavy laying bare the red flag operation and destruction of a scientific facility in the heart of Glacier National Park. A facility the government openly admitted was on the cusp of weapons advancement before its destruction. Sheppard had been a key force in tearing off the mask, but news of a boy being found amid the devastation had been faint to nonexistent. Still, there were those who believed that the admission, the government had been working on a new weapon, was a small price to pay to keep more important secrets hidden and dark.

Sheppard had led the crusade until a couple of brushes with near death, he believed were orchestrated, caused him to rethink his strategy. He had fallen off the grid and his part in online chat rooms and blogs ceased.

For the past three years Sheppard had chosen to live simply in a nestled valley of the Rockies, away from the internet tempest and conspiracy Twitter.
Even his contact with his old friend Malcolm Buck was intermittent at best after the big man had been appointed legal guardian of Amber Switley.

Sheppard moved slowly peeling back the covers and placing his feet on the cold cabin floor. The embers still burned from the nearby fireplace and he was quick to add another log to the hearth and poke the ash until flames danced around the wood. The crackling of the fire spoke to him in the growing comfort as it took the chill from the air.

Sheppard found himself at the window looking down into the valley ripe with the decay of another season. Winter was coming and in the distance he could see the brooding darkness of a storm cell moving in.

He swept a hand over his forehead and back to the nape of his neck, past hair a little greyer, past aches more evident from the mileage, over thoughts inescapable and dark. Sheppard pulled the shade down blocking the outside world. He wanted no part of it, but knew regardless, at some point, the storm would come.

The first draft

So there you have it, the first draft of Hijacking Heaven. I realize I'm about 15,000words short of a, as of yet, workable novel, but it is, after all, a first draft.

I'll have plenty of time to pad it out, fix punctuation and be more vigilant on the spell check, in the coming months.

Yet, writing it was a different experience for me; a challenge, if-you-will. My first three books were all dealing with subjects I had a great deal of knowledge on, some based on personal experience and written in first person. Where as, Hijacking Heaven was a fly-by-my pants ride using third person and required a fair amount of research.

As far as endings go, this book was always meant to be the first part of two, or three books, depending on my ambition and I have already started work on bringing Graham Sheppard out of retirement for The Gryphon Virus.

However, before doing so, I'll probably return to lighter hearted fare. Finish off Johnny Trigger, or get rolling on the Thatch Memoirs.

Either way, for those who have shown the support in achieving my goal as a developing writer, I thank you.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Where beauty eats brains

If you are really into the whole Halloween thing....and I mean really, really, really into it. Why not get yourself a copy of the Zombie Pin-up Calendar?

A fine Saturday morning by the numbers

The top 5 sports riots.

7 secrets only two living people know for some reason.

The 11 finest Monty Python sketches.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Photo bombs #3

Oh! Renaldo!

And this is a picture of me and Johnson with the Queen.

Looks like Secret Service dudes smile after all.

I knew it!

Giggidy! Giggidy! Alright.....

Halloween costume ideas

Forget the costumes. Where do I go to be involved in a party like this?

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Hijacking Heaven- Chapter XXXIX

Sheppard open one eye, then the other, letting light return slowly as he adjusted his vision to his surroundings. His head thumped from the pounding beat of the dance club in his skull. He was on his back; a cushioned seat below him. He was in a vehicle traveling at a good clip from the way the trees whipped past the windows and the sun stabbed at him from openings in the foliage. The sun. What a glorious sight. A breeze blew over his face from a rush of wind whistling in from an open window. It smelled fresh and invigorating.

The figure of a female looked down on him. The light of the day danced behind her head sometimes in a brilliant, angelic aura, shrouding her features in shadow until Sheppard's eyes became more accustom to the strobe-like effect. The smiling face of Amber, with a nasty welt across her forehead, came into focus. She'd been caressing his brow.

"Amber? Where are we? How long was I out?-"

-"Shush don’t try to talk. We’re safe. That's all that matters."

"But how?..."

"Mr. Buck."

Sheppard let his head sink to the right. In the front seat behind the wheel Malcolm Buck drove, occasionally glancing back to check on his friend.
"I'm so glad to see you again," Buck said. "I thought you were dead."

Sheppard responded sluggishly and with a weak smile said, "I thought you were asleep?"

"Fortunately for you, so did those soldiers who found us. Beware the sleeping giant."
Buck returned his eyes to the road.

"Where are we?"

"On our way to Canada. We'll have to ditch the jeep soon though. This ride sticks out like a sore thumb."

"Rabbit? What about Rabbit?"

"Sorry Shep, I don't know. When I came to, there was just you and Amber and two soldiers getting ready to take us in. So I took them out. You can thank them for the wheels."

"You killed them?"

"Knocked them out. Boy, just because you have to shoot a couple of people, suddenly you have a reputation." Buck turned and gave Sheppard a quick smile.

"Rabbit! We have to go back for him Malcolm!"

"Rabbit's OK Mr. Sheppard," Amber said. Her hand felt cold, yet comforting on his cheek. "I feel it. I don't know where he is, but he's not dead. I know he'd want us to be safe first."

"But if they find him-"

-"I have to agree with Amber," Malcolm Buck said. "We’re not going to be of much help charging in to rescue the boy in a stolen army vehicle. We have to find another way. We’re about half an hour from the border. We need to get across. We’ll be in a better position to get him help there."

Sheppard's head felt like it was ready to explode as the rumba continued to rattle his brain.

"Stop and let me out Malcolm, or give me the jeep while you get Amber to safety. I'll go back for him. We can't leave the boy. He's too important."

"Shep, think about what you're saying." Buck gave him a concerned glance. "You are in no condition to go after him. We need to get you to a doctor. Amber said there was a hell of an explosion that caused our accident. You might have a concussion, or something wrong internally. We have to do this my way now my friend. I'm sorry."

Sheppard lifted his head as if to pull himself upright and show he was able to argue the point further. He felt a searing white blaze of pain surge through his head and upper body. His breathing became laboured as if the very air had been sucked from his lungs. He lay back down to the seat.

Amber noticed his wince an urged him to relax. She whispered to him. "It's OK Mr. Sheppard. Rabbit did what he set out to do. The danger has passed."

Graham Sheppard could feel himself losing consciousness again. He could hear Malcolm Buck telling Amber to, "keep him awake. Don't let him sleep."

The world swirled around him in a fog soup of shape erased. The words of the girl echoed in his head, the danger has passed. Sheppard mumbled, "but for how long?" Then he passed out.

Friday, October 09, 2009

Photo bombs #2

It's not Halloween just yet.

Hey! I used to take my kid there too.

There is no vomit in team.

Star struck?

Gross struck

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Somehow it makes more sense

When he was a child, my buddy Bob Noxious claims this scene from Willy Wonka traumatized him for life. So in his honour, I'm posting it today....only backwards.

Is it just me, or were the dudes who did this movie on some serious drugs?

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Halloween costume ideas

Optimus Prime: Good luck fitting into the costume unless you're six. And good luck getting around in it at any age.

Mac Guy: You think this is bad? You should see the one for PC.

Birth Costume: Could be as popular as going as Michael Jackson. I've seen these costumes everywhere; Walmart, Toys R Us, Shopper's Drugmart. Get them quick, they're going fast.

Is this ever going to end?

Hot chicks plunging their toilets.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

Hijacking Heaven- Chapter XXXVIII

The missiles sailed by Rabbit. The Black Hole Infrared Suppression System had saved his life, but not in the way Rabbit had envisioned. It was a system designed to cool the helicopter engines and confuse heat seeking missiles, virtually cloaking the Apache.

Rabbit had no idea what had just happened but was glad he wasn’t in a million pieces. The boy launched more air to air rockets. The internal guidance system locked in and easily destroyed the enemy payload, as the missiles exploded in a star burst in front of him like fireworks on the fourth of July.

Rabbit maneuvered the Cycler control to the left, pulling the helicopter down as he continued toward his target. The LHC was almost in range now. He could make out the smaller details of the complex dug into the rock, in the distance as those below now scurried for cover.

The F-18’s circled in for another attack making a wide arc then coming in behind the helicopter once again. Rabbit could feel the sickness begin to swell in him again and he almost passed out from its sudden surge. He felt he couldn't keep the attack at bay much longer. He began pressing more buttons hoping that somehow he would be able to evade his pursuers for a few moments longer. He thumbed a red button on the Cycler, the same one Colonel Grant had used when he’d chased them over water.

The F-18’s sputtered and then broke off attack as their controls suddenly went dead from the EMP pulse emitted from the Apache. The jets broke on either side of him without firing another shot and began to fall out of the sky. The pilots ejected as their planes spiralled to the ground, obliterated into fireballs on the forest floor.

"Holy shit! What the hell just happened?" Rabbit watched as two parachutes popped like the spores of a dandelion and the pilots descended serenely to the trees below.

Rabbit pivoted with the precision of a seasoned pilot now and returned to his course.
He was now free and clear to end his mission. He brought the Apache in lower above the trees as the radio chatter continued to threaten him from a barrage of static voices, however, the commanding swagger evident before, was gone. The voices were almost pleading now, for him to break off the insanity of his attack.

Could he really fire on these people? He didn't know them, but surely , some of them were innocent; only there by appointment to do jobs they had trained to do. I'm not a murderer! I can't do this.

Then Rabbit thought about Jeffery, his Mother, his father, everyone in his town who had been killed by these people and how Sheppard, Malcolm Buck and Amber had suffered. He thought of what he'd over heard from Sheppard. How those responsible were plotting to control, to destroy, to create a weapon so devestating no one could comprehend the full extent of the destruction and loss of life it would cause. Rabbit let out a primal scream. He fired everything he had at the complex.

Explosions erupted across the ground and into the ediface of the rock face, blowing out windows. A chain reaction of fire sprang up as if the ground had opened up into the furnace of Hell. Buildings and equipment below disappeared into a cloud of black smoke. The chatter reached a frenzied peak on the radio and was abruptly silenced, swept over by static. The rock face that harboured the main dome of the complex spewed out a fireball of rock, metal and stone so violent that Rabbit lost control of the Apache in the force of the blast.

Warning lights and sounds seemed to come at him from every angle of the cockpit as the Apache spun. Rabbit faught the controls, but was losing the battle. The clouds swirled by him at a dizzing rate and Rabbit threw up all over the cockpit. The helicopter began to descend in a spiral, twisting and dropping toward the green below. Through the wisps of smoke Rabbit could see a ring of fire exploding along the ground into an oval far off into the surrounding terrain as if someone had lit a gas trail with an errant cigarette. The last thing he remembered before the impact was, the LHC is destroyed.

Halloween Costume 101

I hear the one costume that is expected to be a big seller this Halloween is, Michael Jackson. It makes perfect sense to me, other than the Thriller reference, the guy is dead, pumped full of zombie -like drugs, with tattooed eyebrows, lips, prosthetic nose and hair extensions.

It's got me re-thinking my costume choices. I might just buy in and go as Jacko Lantern.

However if you're like me on the best of years, you usually wait until the last minute to decide what to do. So, I will do my best to outline some costume ideas over the next few weeks to guide you to the choice that will make you the life of the party.

The Portal costume: Recommended for those who don't want to move around a lot.

Kim Jong Il: Always a popular choice and all you need is your mom's glasses.

Monster Vagina: Same as the Kim Jong Il costume except, no glasses.