Shameless Plug. Big Farkin’ Hole.

Shameless plug for my poetry website.

Salvation for those who have forsaken all logic, squashed all platitudes, and perpetuated the pill count.

Dolph Lundgren in ‘Kindergarten Cop 2’ – for frack’s sake… ‘Tremors 5: Bloodlines’ neither buries nor bolsters the franchise. Adam Scott’s been pissin’ me off lately. Robert DeNiro is the only charm of ‘The Intern’. M. Night’s ‘The Visit’ was a return to grisly greatness. ‘Bloodsucking Bastards’ spotlights the unctuous likability of Joey Kern, the poor man’s Seann William Scott. This weekend: DEATHGASM and any Danny Trejo I can get a holda.

Save me life, ya heathens.

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety-Seven: The Pumped-Up Kicks of Eternia (Lift Your Sword Up High and Blow Your Brains Out)

Dance party time.

above: Saturday, January 31, 1998, nameless central Pennsylvania college, Sigma Phi Epsilon party. They usually ended as follows:

OK, the party is over. This has been my illustrious return to Modern Borefare. Time to eat a sandwich and fight the devils.

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety-Six: Zero Dark Sidetracks: Moments of Pop Culture Joy to Temporarily Distract You From Crying Babies, Ebola-Death-Pops (Part of a Nutritious Breakfast!), and the Argumentative Inconsequence of Your Subsistence

You know you want it. A way out. Bruce Lee High Heel to Your Grumbleshift of a Life. Here they be, the daggers to pierce your atrophy. Kentucky has the dope, now I’ll throw ya a rope. Climb, victim, climb…

1. The “F*ck You, Audience” Award goes to … The Mist.  Thomas Jane, twice-baked Punisher and Bane of Sharks, cannot register to the Greatest Wrong Way in the History of Moviemaking. I am Number 6 of the 39 Shamelessly Perverse Cinemaphiles who Rose and Hollered Approval at the conclusion of this MAW-sterpiece. We get together once a month at the Starbucks in Middletown to yuk it up.

2. Dirk and the Cylon – “Faceman” comes face-to-face with a strutting silvery scrap of his late 70s space adventures. While filming an episode of “The A-Team” at Universal Studios, Dirk Benedict spotted the Cylon & insisted on filming a walk-on for the erstwhile antagonist. The moment, cut and pasted into the opening credits, was sometimes more explosively crowd-pleasing than the majority of the episodes of the show’s flimsy final season. G*ddammit, Robert Vaughn, you tainted “Superman III” and “The A-Team”. Must be why he’s doing generic law firm commercials now…”Tell the insurance companies you aren’t going to take it anymore! Call Flair, Blanchard, Anderson and Anderson, Georgia’s toughest law firm!” <—-If anyone gets this reference, mazel tov, you’re a monkee!

3. The Goofy Yell – It always puts you in a better place.

4. The Bizarro Goofy Yell – It always puts you in a better place…but no one believes you.

5. My Sonic Guitar Will Kick Your @$$: A Fitting Tribute for Colonel Bluegrass:

The Space Cowboy featured above was the pilot of the Miraj, the vehicle that launched the Silverhawks into battle against Mon-Star and his minions. Yes, the show was a money-grubbin’ toy-tie-in afterthought to the Thundercats, but, again, I am firmly sided with the underdogs…er, underhawks…er, silverdogs? Before I decided I wanted to grow up to become “Million Dollar Man” Ted DiBiase’s greedy son, “Billion Dollar Birthright” Brad DiBiase, I aspired to sonic guitar space rockin’ as Col. Bluegrass. Though he was the only Silverhawk who didn’t fly, this cat really soared.  Evidence below:

6. The Iron Grenadiers: Destro Goes Solo – Another resplendent entry into the “Oh, Yeah, That’s RIGHT…!” files. Eventually, Destro tired of interposing himself between the cacophonous conflicts of Cobra Commander and Serpentor, deciding to John Lennon himself into his own band of deadly misfits, the Iron Grenadiers.

A great and refreshing twist to the G.I.Joe mythology with one glaringly hideous problem: the animated series presented the Grenadiers as an off-shoot of Cobra. Hey, it was nice for a little bit to chase your own dreams, wasn’t it, Destro?

Perhaps a little music shall soothe the savage weapons dealer…

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety-Five: The Last Year of the Lou Albano Look

1995 was the last time I was able to braid my infamous facial hair, subjugating the structure into facial follicle art with leftover orthodontic rubber bands. A summer job in a defunct “intellectual” toy store called for a trim of the whiskers, and the goat never restored itself to full-blown dark-black-stink-netherworld-tentacled glory. Captain Lou Albano, we miss you.

Now, we progress to the topic of the day, and I’m gonna keep it brief: I’ve had a particular opinion solicited by the founder of this website. I’ve been asked to provide my thoughts on the super(annoying) super-hero mania that has gripped the TV and cinema nations since Dafoe channeled the Goblin 12 years ago. I was fair to the TV shows, so I watched a few episodes “on demand”: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Gotham, and The Flash. I gritted my teeth and endured the viewings. Upon their conclusion, I hit the white boxes in the back of the closet. The “slick and polish” treatment and the youthful twist are as equally offensive as the “gritty” loquaciousness and mundane posturing. Look, kids, I’m always gonna be on the outside looking in, leering with the gargoyles before being eaten by the moon. I simply cannot endorse this movement because the shows & movies are so g*ddamned boring. They are akin to the zombie craze: the more you shoot ’em, the more they don’t just stay dead, and more of ’em explode from the armpits of Hollywood. Same ol’ song and dance without anything so original that you are transfixed. If you crave good superhero TV, IFC shows “Batman” on the weekends. There’s the outland of which we can all be proud. I am sorry I can’t improve upon this review; I can only say it all stinks and their collective popularity are creating the wrong kind of comic book fans, the ones who think “Justice League Europe” is delightfully retro and who never crack a grin while reading ” ‘Mazing Man”. Just get ’em off my planet and call me when it’s done; I’ll be under the bed with the back issues, keeping the purists and the whole g*ddamned renaissance of comic books on life support.

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety-Four: Flamethrowers, Construction Equipment, Samurai Swords and Disco vs. Snakes…Guess Who Wins…!

Stop. Stop your life and go to YouTube. Turn off “The Walking Dead”, “House of Cards”, “Big Bang Theory”, “Outlander”, “True Blood”…just shut it all down and go to YouTube. I have something you need to see:

Your expectations, whatever they may be, are going to be Blue Oyster Cult-face melted. This movie is the Mad Max of Snakebite Cinema. Plotline: A mass of snakes attack the partygoers at a new apartment building. Sounds B-Movie, right? Like Dean Cain and Kari Wuhrer should be right in the thick of the monster, right? No way, brother. This movie’s different. WAYYYYY different.

Up there’s your protagonist. He’s introduced in the film via a magic box that reveals his entire body covered in venomous slitherers, including a fanged friend that our temporary hero has concealed in this throat.

Jeezus H. Crackers.

A closer look at the guru. He’s mildly humorous, a guy I call a “Stakeout” hybrid: looks like Richard Dreyfuss, and a dub like a root beer-garglin’ Emilio Estevez. Anywho, he has a slobberknocker with a big bad boa constrictor and disappears from the movie, squinty-eyed and coarse of frame, real Clint Eastwood-like.

What splatters this flick in the goriest smears of unique is its wanton, jaw-dropping, scream-inducing brutality. You know that statement that plays in the credits of animal movies, like “The Adventures of Milo and Otis” and “Free Willy” – No animals were harmed during the making of this movie. Wellllllll, this is NOT one o’ those family-friendly crowdpleasers. This movie utilizes thousands of snakes and not a SINGLE snake stunt serpent.

Those snakes being crushed by construction equipment – real.
Those snakes being hacked to pieces by shovels and picks – real.
Those snakes being charbroiled by flamethrowers – real.

You are also treated to a loonnngggg sequence of a pack of mongooses being unleashed on the snakes. This sequence is lengthy beyond merely moving along the plot. This movie had been kept in the archives, the swamplands of the archives, for many years until a grindhouse devotee found an uncut product and nailed it to YT. It’s the stuff of parties. Invite your friends and drink yourselves to a stupor, doin’ shots whenever a snake loses a head or writhes & whirls after being severed in two pieces. We’re all doomed beyond a Happy Meal, anyway, so indulge this crap and never again squash a garter snake.


Oh, f*ck off, yah baah-stid.

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety-Three: Villain, Heal Thyself!

Did you know Freddie Jones was a religious healer of costumed villains? Grace your lives with the photographic evidence of his blessings to these tortured souls:



Be still, Benedict Arnold, my son, your pain shall soon cease…



Courage, lumberjack, courage…

I know your sorrow, Mamba Wamba, and shall ease your suffering..

Demon Shark, I know you are sorry you ate that Kintner boy. I forgive you.


With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety-Two: Three on a Meathook and 26 on the Range…

YES! Back again from the abyss of unidentifiable nomenclature! The champion of indistinguishable weirdness and slightly charred fundamental freakiness, your friend and no one else’s, OL’ KENTUCKY JAY! Release the buzzards and let loose the rabid kindergarteners! Let’s pause for…APPLAUSE!

Uh…why dat boy got a soiled poodle on his head?

I was blown away excrementitiously by “Zombie Ass: Toilet of the Dead” on Thursday. I engorged myself on “Dumplings” last night. Sang along in key of chaos this morning with “The Weird World of Blowfly”. The afternoon? A knock on the cellar door from a pasty-faced amigo…and an invitation to gore-gore-gore-and-den-s’more…Ladies and Gentleworms, Modern Borefare is proud to present the cinematic review of

THE ABCs of DEATH 2!!!!!!!!!

So brutal…so chilling…so feathery…!

Similar to my review of “The ABCs of Death”, I will not reveal titles of chapters, but I will make-em-up my own to coincide with the theme, followed by analysis. “Ambient Icelandic Stargazing”, courtesy of Songza, is good for my earholes. You’re at the top of the snowy hill, you’re bound to a toboggan, you’ve salty icicles from your peepers, now I’ll give ya…just..a…little…PUSH!

“A is for Airduct” – An assassin chases a target but may not survive the passage to the pay-off. What starts as slickly familiar becomes self-effacing and goofy, and I can imagine many would not be pleased with the putrescent punchline, but I giggled, so that’s-a good enuff fer me. Grade: A

“B is for Bad Woodland Creature! Very Bad!” – Man’s indecency to the creatures with whom he shares this planet is highlighted in this vignette. You’ll grasp the course of this feature rather quickly, but you’ll enjoy the brief and bloody bite. Grade: A-

“C is for Could We Have Caught the Wrong Guy?” – The lynch mob ensnares a hapless dope accused of a child’s murder. His innocence is irrelevant against the irate need for a restoration of the balance. Crumple the philosophy into a wad and toss it to the bin – This one needed to be longer and ends abruptly and discourteously. Grade: B-

“D is for Destroy Your Input Machines (At Least ’til the Next Story)” – Here we have an animated sequence involving cleanliness and the ugliness that chemicals cannot obliterate. Your world will turn to Eyebrow Exercise as you awe and EWWWW at the events. The animated features of the “The ABCs of Death” were Joy to the Sick and Sadistic, and this feature belongs in such rank. Grade: A

“E is for Every Man Has His Limit” – And in this episode, the limit was arrived at sooner than the producers anticipated. Two guys on an island gain a new friend who blahblahblah…it’s been done so often it’s tanning on the rotating rods at the 7-11 by the Parkway entrance. Obtuse Nickelback Eggheads will like the ending. All Others Must Pass Onto Letter F. Grade: D

“F is for Failure to Fuse” – The benefit of movies like “The ABCs of Death” is the admittance of new storytellers. A subtle and poised trust is placed on the director’s frame by the Golden Light. If I give you the opportunity, astound me. Rattle me. Cobra Clutch my hairy Hebrew neck until the face forms a rictus of delight. The director of the Letter F feature decided to focus on current world hostility, and this attention to a Incessantly Beeping Car Alarm of Modern Living was misguided. I think the director stayed on the path taken by other directors embracing a similar subject who couldn’t be poignant on the matter in a 2 hour treatment. This one didn’t impress me and includes a groan of a tired sexist joke that also felt hideously out-of-place with the proceedings. Grade: D

“G is for Grandad” – Pops and grandson differ in opinion and lifestyle but share long, flat tresses. The environment painted by the players of this drama needed just a smidge more focus, but that focus should not have been on the elderly man’s genitalia. OOPS! Spoiler! No, it’s not a spoiler, fellas. It’s destiny. Oh, farts, yeah, it IS a spoiler… Grade: C

“H is for Hurting the One You Love” – Another animated sequence that promotes the psychological, pre- and post-coital warfare of men and women. Watch with a lover and interpret accordingly. If your head explodes, turn away from the Buffalo Flavored Wheat Thins, hmmm? Dang, I love cartoons. Grade: A

“I is for Inheritance” – The objective of the players in this sleazefest is the equitable arrangement of Mama’s Goodies before she croaks. The kids gently help Mom along this path of legal non-existence-ship. She’s not willing. The territory’s been traversed by stalwarts and upstarts, but the griminess and a wicked undercurrent of Wouldn’t This Be Fun? sustain the story above the bog of boredom. Fun and a half. Grade: A-

“J is for Just Change Your Mind and We Will Stop Electrocuting Your Testicles” – The music for the post shifts to doom metal for a story about a man who WOULD be doomed if not for the idiomatic (and well-timed) intervention of true love. A pair of zealots try to shock a homosexual male out of his lifestyle. Proof Positive that the everyday stuff’ll kill you faster than the Conjured Vomitorium Outpourings of the Sickest Minds in Filmdom, this episode was violent fury epitomized by calm resolve and the notion of Doin’ the Right Thing. I’d like to see more from this director, as long as El Capitan stays in the outskirts. Grade: A

“K is for Killforce: Operative” – Oh, I know what’s happening here…!! Yet I watched it all go down. Is this the end of the world or just the end of the female protagonist’s world? Is she the antagonist? Did she watch just one episode too many of “Catfish” and Piss On the Wrong Cthulhu? Quiet, hellish, and happy. Grade: A

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With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety-One: Holy Sh*t, I Just Got to the Chapter Number that Covered the World in Grunge.

Eggs’re are cookin’ on the stove. Coffee’s brewin’ in the pot. Outside is gray and windy, kin, so here’s the advice ol’ Jay’s got. Stay indoors and allow YouTube to trap ya in a figure-four leglock with video-fried distractification. Reality’s a popsicle, slowly melting, so catch this madness before your grain goes the way of John and June in ’03. Don’t worry, friends…they’ll still be seein’ ya a little further on up the road, guitars in hands and redemption in their grips…

1. Bojack Horseman – new Netflix series, animated misadventures of an actor from a 90s sitcom who is living the Hollyweird dream of staggering on the outskirts of hipster reference as a halfway-to-nirvana writer ghost-writes his memoirs. Will Arnett voices the title character. Finally! Will Arnett in his ideal environment…heard and not seen. The humor of the show coincides pleasantly with a perpetually bleak outlook on the prospect of social evolution, a capful of ZzzQuil, and the permanent black marker of your choice. Lately, this sandwich has been the lunch of champions. Season 1 is a 12-episode-layered submarine of horseradish, pepperoni, and dysphoria (the good kind of dysphoria, the tragi-comic breeze that shifts the hairs of balding crankcases). I hit them all in one overnight joust, then I watched Thursday’s “Project Runway”. Apply, Rinse, Repeat…

2. The Great American Traffic Jam – TV land’s (the entity, not the network) late 70s all-star comedic response to the disaster movie craze. The movie is also referred to as “GRIDLOCK!” A weekday morning on the L.A. freeways turns into Parking Lot-palooza when a cockpile of auto mishaps clogs all the thoroughfares, and NO ONE’S GOING ANYWHERE! A guilty pleasure I’ve been chasing for many years since I saw a YouTube video for the Warren Zevon song “Gridlock” that featured clips from the movie, you will certainly require pen and notepad to properly document the sundry celebrity appearances and cameos. My favorite “droppin’ by” appearance comes from Al Molinaro, proprietor of the teen-age hangout in “Happy Days”, who plays a garishly-garmented spectator who purchases something like 10,000 hamburgers, french fries, and sodas for the trapped motorists. Ed McMahon rides a motorcycle, Abe Vigoda teaches the 2nd housekeeper from “Diff’rent Strokes” how to drive, Vic Tayback delivers a baby in the back of his cab, Cousin Oliver from “The Brady Bunch” strums a guitar, and the military very seriously delivers portable johns by helicopter to the tune of “Ride of the Valkyries”. I don’t care if you’re kosher – EAT THIS HAM.

3. A Full Hour of Bloopers from “Mr. Warmth” Don Rickles from a TV Show You Don’t Remember — The sitcom is entitled “Daddy Dearest” and yes, dear Borefare-ians, I do remember this sitcom, being one of the 13 people on this planet who was religiously committed to the program before its quick demise. “Daddy Dearest” debuted on September 5, 1993 on FOX Sunday nights at 9:30 PM, the coveted slot after the 9 PM powerhouse that was “Married…With Children” that was surprisingly hard to fill with a successful follow-up (RIP “Open House”, “Good Grief, “Herman’s Head”, “The George Carlin Show”, “Wild Oats”). As you can see from the clips, the Don Rickles-Richard Lewis combination clicked as resonantly as a “Spies Like Us” alum hosting a talk show. Rickles’ prickly demeanor and extemporaneous diatribes couldn’t be lassoed into the streamlined ice cube tray of situation comedy, and the program was brushed under the carpet after 10 episodes. The song remains the same: the bloopers are better than the show. Hey, if you’ve ever wanted to see Don Rickles battle a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or Richard Lewis being repeatedly struck in the noggin by a soft pretzel (although in one take, the pretzel missed the comedian and struck a certain famous movie cop in the chest), I have the montage that will fit your idiosyncratic requirements:

4. The Pre-Pieces of Shining Cuckoo Nest’s Days of Mr. Nicholson — Jack Nicholson had a rich body of cackling, crackling work before he took the last detail, axed a Scatman, and tried to teach an Indian how to throw a basketball. Watching “Psych-Out” and “The Trip” is really worth the…worth the…experience. Motherf*cker, almost wandered into a dogpile of bad pun there…scrutinize “The Cry Baby Killer”, “The Wild Ride”, and “Hell’s Angels on Wheels”, too.


With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Eighty-Nine: My Opinion of Comic-Con is Summarized By Yonder Animated Imagery:

I hired the Yellow Cello to distract Wheelchair and Striped Leggings so the Hammer of Hate could impact without interference. Note the bag man on the right of the screen: he’s unaffected. Hope for the Future that they’ll all turn to ash and blow away? Jay drums his fingers atop his Brainiactacular Dome and ruminates…

Dig the swingin’ singles…and one partially obfuscated married dame. “Gilligan’s Island” turns 50 next month. Dawn Wells and Tina Louise are still dancing. Ms. Louise tried to distance herself from Ginger Grant after the show’s demise so she could enjoy extensive Hollywood success, but a bad attitude and the stigma that stuck like glue to most 50s and 60s TV icons that You Are Defined As You Are Syndicated avalanched her ascension.

Be warned, Cosplayers: arrive at my house and reap the Infinitely Irked Irritation of Matthau Undead:

This guy’ll stick ya, too.

Finally, please remember, children, if you cut off the head of Ming the Merciless, the head of Eric Roberts grows in its place.