Monster Mania 27 Recap


Freddy Krueger was in town over the weekend. The mere thought of this may have struck an incredible amount of fear into you back in the mid ’80s, but nowadays it’s not as scary as it is cool. At some point in the future, we’ll look back and marvel at how monumental of a thing this was. FREDDY F’N KRUEGER himself meets and greets his fans, quite often I might add, in New Jersey of all places. This is the type of thing that happens all the time at the Cherry Hill chapter of Monster Mania.

Negating all that build-up, I wasn’t actually there to meet Robert Englund. Nope, my mission for Monster Mania 27 was merely to cruise around the dealer rooms and hang out with friends. While not as monumental as the 26th Monster Mania, #27 did have its charms.

Homemade Horror Chocolates!

As we stared down several stories to the ground floor from our newly renovated room at Crown Plaza in Cherry Hill, we gazed at the Englund line. His drawing power is tremendous every time. The line to meet him is usually wrapped at least halfway around Crowne Plaza.

When I see the Englund line, I wonder to myself, are these all people who have met him before and want to meet him again, or is this line sprinkled with a whole new generation of fans? I imagine it’s a bit of both which is a really cool thing. The crowd is usually very diverse. It’s not just a bunch of middle aged people going to meet equally as old if not older celebrity guests. Appropriately, there’s constantly new blood. I witnessed it first hand when a young kid/horror fan who couldn’t have been more than 12, ran up to John “Freddy in Space” Squires and his wife Jen to say hello. It was one of those cool moments that reinforced the fact that the horror community is tight knit and comes out in full force to local horror cons such as this.

This Guy…

One of the cool things about the March installment of Monster Mania is that it usually falls near my birthday on the calendar. That was pretty awesome for a long time, but with each passing year the novelty has began to wear off. Any time I’m at Monster Mania I feel like there aren’t many other places I’d rather be…probably only Disney World. It must be that all the nostalgia makes me feel like a kid again. I feel very at home and at ease at the cons because they’re a chance to tune out the world and get transported to an alternate reality. I love being able to talk to people with the same interests as me as well as doing some horror-themed shopping.


Something in my mind tells me that I’ll get more out of the experience if I don’t go to a con merely just to buy stuff. Is it a fuller experience if I meet some of the celebrity guests as well as shop for stuff on my macabre mental checklist? This time around I was a clean slate. I was going for no other reason than just to be there and enjoy the experience. Usually, that’s the precise time when the coolest stuff pops out at me. Plus, it’s more fun to be taken off guard by an item you didn’t even realize you wanted.

Once we arrived we wasted no time swinging through all the dealer rooms a few times. This is the first time that I don’t think I bought anything except food and drinks. I’m proud of myself. I didn’t even buy a t-shirt, but that’s because I have..all of them. Matt found a few toys that he discussed in his Monster Mania post and later he surprised me with an insanely awesome Slimer night light! Thanks Matt! See a picture of it at my Instagram (


We purposely thought it best not to intentionally try to recapture the over the top nature of the August installment of Monster Mania, so we just hung out for the rest of the night and had a few drinks. The kitchen at the hotel bar was backed up. This wait resulted in John, Matt, and myself debating about our favorite Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th films. I feel like we talk about this same topic each time we are in each others presence, but it always seems like we accomplish something in the conversation. Sometimes I get looked at like an elitist film snob for my taste in NMOES movies. As a kid I swore Dream Warriors was my favorite, and it may be one of my favorites, but ultimately, the original is without a doubt my favorite and it’s the installment I can watch anytime without having to be in the mood for it. As far Friday the 13th goes, I’m pretty sure we all agreed (but I’m only officially quoting myself) that 1984’s Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter is our favorite of the F13th series.

After we finally ate and had a few beers we ran into Tom Bryce from Shit Movie Fest – a guy who I swear I’ve most likely brushed shoulders with at previous Monster Manias but didn’t realize it. It was great to meet him since he’s one of the nicest dudes from our online world. I also saw our friend Jess Rajs from Gorgeous and Gory and a few other horror-fiend friends of mine.

“Someone saw a clown up on 12…”

Later, we all decided it was time to head to the room rather than being loud and obnoxious in the lobby which had pretty much cleared out for the night. We hopped on the elevator and ran into a creepy clown guy in the elevator. I wish this was going to lead into some sort of horror movie scenario, but it doesn’t. This guy’s got to get to his room to get some sleep just like everyone else does.

The following paragraph contains situations of a graphic and violent nature, reader discretion is advised. 

I’m not sure how it began, but I’m pretty sure I instigated it.

The epic hotel room match between John Squires and myself included tons of back and forth, reverse knife edge chops, and even some painful scientific holds, but ultimately I took home the win. Now you know Johnny wouldn’t let me off that easy. We couldn’t take away his heat like that either. Smart booking dictates that he needed to pull some real #heel type shit.

As I was reeling from the win, I heard Dinosaur Dracula announce me as the winner (just before he passed out for the night grasping his new Boglin) and at that point it really felt like I was in the ring getting cheered and jeered by a packed house at Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City, home of Wrestlemania 4 and 5 (at least that’s what was going through my mind.) Distressed, John’s wife Jen looked with a tear streaming down her face, she ran into the ring/bed area and tried to console a stunned John. I hobbled over to take a swig of beer for the working man from my can before I could throw it in the trash and…BAM!!!

John spears me into the wall.

The whole room shook. 

Can you blame us? We were a mere 8 miles away from the ECW Arena. Extreme vibes were running wild. This is how the commentators would’ve called it, when you read these, hear them in your mind as they would sound:


Bless the people in the adjacent hotel room. They were saints for not calling in a noise complaint. I feel even worse for the newly renovated hotel room itself since it surely felt the wrath of two of the most powerful and destructive bloggers and writers on the face of the planet. Don’t worry, if the earth is ever in some sort of diabolical peril, the two of us will join forces as a tag team and doggy paddle everyone who fell into the Atlantic Ocean to safety. You’re welcome.

It was pretty embarrassing when we ran into our nice neighbors as we both checked out at the same time the next morning. They told us that they thought the mirror was going to fall off the wall in their room. A big thanks to them for being such good sports.

Chao Down With Me at The Menlo Park Mall Food Court


The other day as I was taking my car out for a spin (if you must know, I drive a semi-rusted neon green Chevy Corsica that has 469,000 miles on it), when my special Sexy Armpit communicator a.k.a my iPhone, began blinking bright green and making gross squishing noises. It was Sludgey Facetiming me. He said a bunch of my blogging cohorts sent me a message via our super secret pneumatic tube network (not so secret anymore, oops!). I hoped it wasn’t anything serious. “I’ll be right there Sludgey,” I said in my best Bale Batman voice.

Once home, I rushed into the apartment and grabbed the message from Sludgey’s barrel. “You are selected to win a million dollars a year, FOREVER, sincerely, Publisher’s Clearing House” clearly it was the wrong piece of paper. I shuffled through the other messages and finally found the correct one.

TO: Sexy Armpit

We are enlisting you for a mission. Review Chinese food restaurant at your local Mall food court. Go. Now.

And that was all it said. In the case that you ever receive a cryptic message like this, it shouldn’t be taken lightly. I hopped right back into the Corsica and sped off to the world renowned Menlo Park Mall. If you never get the chance to visit Epcot Center, you could do some mind altering drugs and just head to the food court at Menlo. There’s always something for everyone. All types of cuisine are offered, and most notably, Chick-Fil-A. But I couldn’t get distracted by spicy chicken sandwiches and sweet tea right now, I needed to stay focused.

The beauty part about Menlo Park being “My mall” is that I can often use one of my favorite lines from Mallrats, alter it a bit and sub out the Easter Bunny part, like so: “All I said was the Chinese food at the Menlo Park Mall was not appealing and she just threw her tray of chicken and toothpicks up in the air and knocked me down.”


Of course, I’m referring to the sample girl, standing in front of ASIAN CHAO. She was offering everyone meat, but she wasn’t at all enthusiastic about it. In fact, I don’t think this girl could’ve been angrier about the thought of brightening the day of passerby with free food samples. She reminded me of Nicole Bass. She was brutish and imposing. Her fiery visage seemed to harness the flames from that Bourbon Chicken sign behind her directly toward me. I wasn’t sure what I was in for by declining her free sample, but walking up to the counter probably gave me immunity from whatever sort of weirdly uncomfortable beat down that I would’ve received from Nicole.

At first I thought Asian Chao was a really bad ethnic sounding stereotypical name, but after some investigative bloggerism I discovered that the term Chao does indeed refer to a Chinese stir-frying technique.

As I leaned up against a pillar waiting on line to order, I momentarily zoned out. My mind took a trip back in time. Ever since Henry P. Mall (I’m sure that’s his name) came up with the idea to put a roof on the good old outdoor strip mall, malls have been these magnificent structures with endless opportunities to buy all kinds of crap, provide a place for teenagers to get each others phone numbers, or in my case lend its catacombs as a setting for a couple of films I made. I even worked at the movie theater at Menlo for about 6 years of my life. I have some great memories there, a place that feels like my backyard.

I remembered how years ago, on any given weekend, the mall food court was absolutely theeee place to be. It was usually mobbed with people. Although I’ve lived mere seconds from two of the most popular malls in New Jersey for my entire life, a mall outing used to be a pretty big deal. When I wasn’t working at the theater adjacent to the food court, I used to spend all day there sometimes with my friend Sgt. E. We’d get lunch at the food court and then some Icees. We’d pick up some comics and stop in the arcade to play a few games.

My local malls are in a sad state of affairs now. What once existed as the only logical solution to everyone’s shopping dilemma, is now more of a place people go to do something when it’s shitty weather. If you needed to buy 27 gifts during the holidays, without hesitation you’d go to the mall, whereas now you can go to Target or WalMart. The financial crunch is sucking the life out of these malls. For instance, all the fountains have been removed from Woodbridge Center, fountains that I tossed thousands of pennies and nickels into during the course of my entire life, and all the trees have been removed from the food court in Menlo Park Mall. Those damn trees provided such ambiance. Now the food court has been castrated. Maybe too many birds were making homes in them? Maybe they were real trees and their roots were about to crack the floor open and suck everyone into the abyss? It’s sad, both my malls are decomposing.

More on the “Crab Rangoon” later…and yes, I used air quotes

Oh shit. I forgot that I needed to decide what I wanted to order. Now the pressure was on. I had the ultimate booking power for this plate and if I didn’t get my shit together it seemed like the aggravated woman was just going to start tossing random food onto it for me. I wasted all that time reminiscing about mall memories and now I was being harassed by the server behind the counter about what I wanted. I was on a Chipotle-like assembly line and I needed to be part of the flow or get kicked off the line.

There’s a specific part of your id that compels you to get Chinese food. You know how it is. Sometimes you just get that craving. When it happens to me, I go to Ling’s Kitchen in Fords. It’s a legend around these parts. I’m a bit spoiled in that respect, so I have a hard time settling for any Chinese food that’s too much of a departure from how Ling’s prepares their food. When it comes to Chinese cuisine, I’m a total creature of habit. I order the same thing every time: General Tso’s Chicken with brown rice and broccoli. Sometimes places are stingy with the broccoli though.

This photo I took could be the front cover of their menu, that’s how appealing this food looks, 
but looks are deceiving as we will find out…

At Asian Chao I had the option for rice and two of the main items. I went with Sesame Chicken because I felt that was a safe bet. Then I added in Chicken and Broccoli. Some of the usual offerings weren’t available, or should I say they weren’t even cooked and/or put out in the serving trays. I’m not a fan of orange chicken or sweet and sour chicken, so those were off the table. I also never order beef or pork if I’m doing Chinese, so my choices were as limited as sample girls angry facial expressions.

First, the Sesame Chicken. The sauce was pretty weak, and to me, that’s a vital component. Aside from a spicy kick, there wasn’t much flavor otherwise. Completely absent was the bold flavor that its rich appearance conned me into believing it had. The chicken itself tasted like the turkey in Christmas Vacation, overcooked, dry, and tough to chew.

Next on the plate was many peoples old standby, Chicken and Broccoli. To best describe this one, imagine a beige rubber car mat from the floor of a 1986 Buick, cut up, soaked in soy sauce, and cooked with broccoli that had been steamed in elementary school water fountain water. Not so good.

I took the liberty of adding a side dish. I’m not a big fan of egg rolls and they’re so common, so I opted for something I never ordered from a Chinese food place before: Crab Rangoon. No idea why I bothered, but I wanted to sample something sort of offbeat and I remembered that I tried this once 10 years ago with Miss Sexy Armpit, which was the first time in my life I had ever actually heard of it. Even when she mentioned it, I thought she was referring to a prequel to 1995’s Beyond Rangoon. I don’t usually eat crab either, but I figured what the hell, I was on a special mission.


If you notice the pattern here, you’ll have an idea of just how underwhelming the Crab Rangoon was. I didn’t think it was possible for this to suck so bad, but the outer shell tasted like two damp, dustless Doritos fused together and stuffed with a tiny ball of cream cheese and crab meat. For some reason, I think the two specific rangoons they served me were the same ones that the manager laid out on the ledge of an open window in his apartment when it was drizzling. Then he realized he was late for his shift and he shoved them in his pocket and brought them to the serving area once he arrived at work.

Even the rice was average at best. How do you screw up RICE?

It probably seems like I’m exaggerating for effect, or being too picky, but it was all so laughably sub-par. Actually, maybe it is on par with what mall food court Chinese food is supposed to be like? Either way, Asian Chao isn’t doing the food court in Menlo any favors. If malls want to come back in a big way, they need a damn good Chinese place that makes mouths water. Everyone has their own concept of what their Chinese food needs taste like, and mine is definitely not at Asian Chao.

I didn’t even eat the majority of the meal and wound up going home unfulfilled. All wasn’t lost though, because this experience caused my mind to replay a line from one of my major all-time crushes, Marisa Tomei.

“I bet the Chinese food here is terrible” – Mona Lisa Vito, My Cousin Vinny (1992)


Make sure you stop by all my friends sites to read their reviews of Chinese food places at their local mall food courts:

Matt at Dinosaur Dracula
Brian at Review The World
Will at Veggie Macabre
Molly at Swaggermom Tales

10 Treasures Found at Dollar Store on Atlantic City Boardwalk


Mysterious isn’t the most appropriate word to describe dollar stores on the Atlantic City boardwalk. Nope. I think the word that best sums them up is “obnoxious.” But, let me take that back, we found one of them on New Years Day and it was sort of magical.

While walking the A.C boardwalk on the brisk, but sunny first day of the year with Dinosaur Dracula, we came across a 99 cent store that Matt said he’d like to stop at. I’m so jaded by these stores that my expectations of its contents were at the aboslute rock bottom. Through my black sunglasses I took one last look around the boardwalk. The sun blasted my face with fire as the blue sky soothed it. I admit, I was dazed for a second, but give me a break, there was some New Years debauchery that I needed to shake off. After a giant seagull stared down at me ominously from atop the adjacent boardwalk Psychic building, I heard him say “What are you looking at, go the frig inside already you weird bastard!”

We ventured in. We made like Miracles and shopped around.

After about 40 minutes of being in the 99 cent zone, I could hear Rod Serling in my mind introduce our own Twilight Zone episode “…To many, what they held in their hands was merely junk, but to these two young Frog Brothers wannabes, it might as well be heaven.” Maybe it was too much Twilight Zone Marathon.

After another good half hour at least, we still had yet to do a complete revolution around the store. We soldiered on and continued for another half hour at least. During a few long stops at some end caps to smell outdated WWE air fresheners, and test out gadgets that would give Randy Peltzer an uncomfortably lengthy Viagra boner, we walked further back into the seemingly never-ending abyss of aisles. At that moment, we thought, “how could there possibly be more?” Then we wound up in the housewares sections, and I use that term loosely. Then into the children’s wear section, and finally ending up in a section dedicated to mid ’80s telephone number organizers. F*ck this was such a great place.

The best way to describe it to you is this: It’s the Vendredi’s Antiques from Friday the 13th The Series, of the Atlantic City Boardwalk dollar store scene. It’s maybe too specific to have its own scene, but I don’t want to limit it to the label of “a good store,” because that would in no way be accurate.

By the way, you can never go there. Not only do I forbid you, but I warn you that it’s not your store to shop in. A mystical energy force field will repel you from it if you ever try to take one step inside of it. It’s mine, all mine dammit! It’s my treasure store, MWAHAHAHA! Well, it’s not all mine really. Dinosaur Dracula discovered it, and yes, I reaped half of the schlockiest, um…most glorious benefits.

It was as if Matt discovered gold and realized he had to split it. Because he’s such a good guy, he didn’t kill me over it in a fittingly Boardwalk Empire-like fashion, but he actually let me get a piece of some of it. Kindness must be a characteristic of the hybrid Reptile-Nosferatu, scientific name, Dinosaurus Draculus. Motherf*ckerus this is fun. I guess just add “us” at the end of the word.

I prefer to believe 99 cent EVERYTHING 99 cent has 100 million items, not 10,000 and it’s possibly the real mecca of the Atlantic City Boardwalk. Don’t get me wrong, Boardwalk Hall is an institution, and the Beatles played there, but can you buy a Skeleton Clicker Licker there? Most certainly not.

Yes, it’s full of outdated, unloved bric-a-brac, chachkies, and doohickies, and all the other more elaborate words my mom used to use when she couldn’t think of the word “junk,” but shopping here will actually save you from losing all your money in A.C. Here’s how: if you gamble the entire time you are “Doing A.C,” then you will surely lose your money, maybe even your home. But, if you opt to shop in 99 Cent Everything 99 Cent, you may only spend a measly $8.74 cents like I did, AND wind up going home with all the luxury items below.

As George Carlin once so eloquently stated, “A house is just a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more stuff.” Stuff is certainly what I don’t need more of. Unless it’s 1985’s “The Stuff,” that I’ll watch all the time. So, I made it a point to be more organized in 2014. I really shit the bed. Here it goes…



If you know me, you know that it was only a matter of time before I actually owned this beautifully sculpted statue. It’s been a fascination of mine ever since the first time I stepped foot on the boardwalk with Miss Sexy Armpit. For only a dollar, the value was tremendous considering it’s made of pure ivory. In comparison to the classics, I put “My Mr. Middle Finger” (I just named him that) on par with The Thinker or Venus DeMilo. It’s hard to put into words, but this piece of fine art perfectly epitomizes what Jersey is all about.

Next time you have your boss and his wife over for drinks, make sure you keep this displayed as prominent in your home as Darrin McGavin did with his leg lamp. Mark my words, no item you find in Homegoods will ever evoke more style, class, and refined beauty as “My Mr. Middle Finger.” TM yo.

I can’t speak for other boardwalks or shore communities, but if you visit the Atlantic City boardwalk and you feel like buying someone an authentic souvenir and you feel a little bit more generous then picking them up some salt water taffy, this might be THE perfect thing. It’s been a staple of these dollar stores for probably 15 years or more. That makes it not quite as old as the Renaissance period, but it does trace back way longer than the dumb t-shirts you see in those stores that spell out Jersey Shore like this:


If there’s a true generation gap, please submit that as prime anecdotal evidence.



Dennis the Menace. Damn him and his posssibly mid to late ’80s pinball…and his A.D.D. Fitting that he’s the spokesperson for a pinball machine that makes your head spin cause that little bastard used to make Mr. Wilson’s head spin for sure. You may have never heard about it, but the poor old man died of a massive heart attack. Autopsy report confirmed that his arteries weren’t clogged and he seemed to be in perfect health. You know what that means, right? Dennis killed Mr. Wilson. He literally annoyed the living shit out of him. I suppose that if it keeps him occupied for more than a few minutes, this cheap ass pinball game is worth it. More of a selling point for me is the packaging. If this mint-on-card pinball game ever manned up and f*cked a mid-20s Hot Topic employee, their spawn would be this exquisitely trashy and gorgeous packaging. I think Brutus Beefcake wore the same spandex pant print before he became “The Barber.”



I couldn’t walk the boardwalk and not pick up something for Miss Sexy Armpit. In fact, you get an exclusive, she doesn’t even know about this yet. Since she loves Bon Jovi, I picked her up a cassette single from Bon Jovi. “This Ain’t a Love Song” is a song about his love affair with himself from the discarded album titled “Portrait of a Megalomaniac.” I know, real scathing. Do you really care though? Didn’t think so. I know you want to hear about the Blood Ball key chain. Patience young Padawan!

This cassette single was originally on the shelves of The Wiz – an electronic store which was big in the NJ/NY area. Word at the time was that Nobody could actually beat The Wiz, but they eventually gave up and filed for bankruptcy in 1998. *PC Richards runs a sub-site using The Wiz’ name and logo.



MORE TATTOOS! Possibly the most adorable dinos I’ve ever seen. It includes the cutest, most ass backwards Stegosaurus ever and the little scamp at the bottom right. Matt tells me his name might be the good old galactic squidhead “Tailosaurus,” but that really hasn’t been scientifically proven. Either way, I’m through gushing.


This poor guy. 

Who really needs the whole “DO AC” campaign when there’s an entire branding bonanza on the front of this WOW! ATLANTIC CITY postcard? In all the years I spent roaming around the boardwalk in A.C, this is one that passed me right by. I guess I was never an avid “rotating postcard display rotater.” When I saw this one, confusion hit me instantly. Was this a modern post card meant to be ironic? Or was this just a really weird and f*cked up serious post card from an era when every damn thing in the world had its own postcard? When the process of buying and sending a postcard was still an activity people actually involved themselves in. More importantly WHO IS THIS GUY? AND WHY WOW? Even though I missed out on this joke when it first started popping up in stores along the boardwalk, I can still appreciate it. Wow.



Super awesome looking skeleton bashing himself in his skull incessantly AND it’s joyously annoying as hell! At one time in the distant past, this was a blue raspberry candy, now it is completely green and really disgusting looking. How the hell do they actually get away with selling this stuff? The whistle doesn’t work. Oh no, wait, that’s not it. I don’t want to put my mouth on this thing that’s been sitting in a dollar store for 12 years.



Moon Stalker and Time Chasers DVDs. Low budget late 90s horror and sci-fi. Avid dollar store goers might already know these films, but they are completely new to me. I am familiar with the sub-par DVDs sold cheaply without a plastic snap case, but I’m not familiar with these two who were so sub par that they were produced somewhere deep within the mantle of the earth and outfitted with fancy cardboard sleeves. I can foresee this getting a special enhanced Blu-Ray edition within the next 6-8 months. Who’s bringing the multi-colored popcorn? Even though both of these are most likely to blow chunks, Moon Stalker looks more appealing to me, mainly because of the subtle power of the movie’s log line, “Campfire Stories can be Deadly.” F*CK YEAH THEY CAN!

As I’ve made clear in this post, I often like to come home with, fine, museum quality pieces at bargain basement prices…



The beauty of this nude female porcelain torso isn’t the virtuoso sculptor behind this piece, it’s the versatility. You can shake salt OR pepper out of it, or why not combine both into one to save time and cop a feel AT THE SAME TIME! I’m thinking about buying some Red Robin seasoning to fill it up with, then I can instruct house guests to shake my boobs onto their burger if they want. Ah hell, who am I kidding? It would only be a bun.

What’s not really sinking into my mind is the fact that I actually bought this. When I first saw it out of the corner of my eye, I literally thought to myself “WHO THE F*CK WOULD BUY THIS?” Then, of course, I buy the damn thing. But, that’s not even the worst part. People MUST buy this. A lot of people MUST buy this fairly frequently. You can’t buy a nude female torso salt and pepper shaker made of high quality porcelain WITH a bonus stamp indicating that this is authentic from ATLANTIC CITY at just any local store.

Do YOU own one of these? I can’t wrap my head around it. If you are one of “these” people, I need to know who you are. I need to talk to you. Seriously. We need to converse, possibly discussing what size baseball bat you were hit in the head with when you were a kid and you need to give me a very detailed verbal tour of your home.

2. McDONALD’S ERASABLE WHITE BOARD (for the anal retentive Happy Meal kid)


Getting organized is high on my list of new years resolutions. In fact, it’s on there every year and I never seem to fully succeed at it. I really need to stop buying more stuff, but there is hope. Without a doubt, this McDonald’s dry-erase To-Do list is my only hope. I’m looking for it to be the spiritual shove in the right direction, that performance enhancing drug, that surge of adrenaline that’s gonna catapult my organizational dreams. It even has a spot for a check mark for each day of the week. I don’t really understand how to use this, but I feel it’s an efficiency booster nonetheless.

The fact that the week starts on Sunday makes me want to tear my eyelids off and stomp them. I know technically Sunday is the first day of the week, but Monday is the start of the work week, and this calendar is made to look like the weekend is only one day. Screw that. And screw McDonalds.


Ohh yes. I say that in the closest I can sound like Paul Bearer as possible. The blood ball is a severed fingertip inside a ball of goo. On a key chain. That is all.


Now be sure to read about the amazing crap that Dinosaur Dracula put in his treasure basket! From Garfield to Ghostbusters 2, he ran into some serious finds!

Thank you for reading, the soundtrack to this post has been:
“Ooh Heaven is a Place on Earth” by Belinda Carlisle

Halloween 2013 Is Upon Us!

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Halloween 2013 has a nice ring to it.

Dinosaur Dracula officially ushered us into the Halloween season in a radical fashion at midnight last night. We have arrived, and I’m excited. As Matt at Dino Drac mentioned, we’ve got a while to go before the day we wait for all year. Ultimately, the most fun is in the build-up to October 31st, so let’s revel in it together. Please join me for a Sexy Armpit-style Halloween. This year will feature even more ghastly fun than ever before.

OK, here’s the situation. All throughout September, The Sexy Armpit will be all “Halloweeny,” and then beginning in October I have something extra special for you, and dare I say it, pretty different from what you are used to. I’ve been planning this for a couple of months and I’m hoping you enjoy it. 
What I have up my sleeve for October is still not 100% complete, but I’m working on it each night. It’s more subtle and not the typical Halloween countdown material. If I buy something halloween-themed or I’m doing the usual stuff like that it will most likely be posted in September. 
Since Halloween is so important to me and I’ve been taking part in the countdowns for a long time, it was time that I came to the party with a different approach, and it hasn’t been easy. I’ve ran into a lot of challenges along the way. 
The season inspires me and I want it to reflect in the content I’m delivering here. It’s time for me to take things a bit more seriously and not just f*ck around. This is all very vague, I know. Hopefully it does pique your interest enough to want to come back and check out what I have planned for October 1st. It’s not as much of an in your face October from me as you might expect. After all, there’s only so many reviews of Pumpkin Spice Milk you can do. This October, I want to delve deeper into the season and bring you with me.
For those fellow bloggers reading this, be sure not to burn yourself out. If you’ve been doing the countdown thing for a long time, you know it’s not easy. We have a long stretch. Take a few days off once in a while. Most of us don’t get paid for this so make it fun. Don’t let it become your job. Check out everyone else’s blogs too because there’s clearly a lot of hard work that goes into them and it yields a lot of creativity and entertainment.


Mother F’N Monster Mania Recap August 2013

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The 3 Ts of Monster Mania. sTop buying more shiT you money wasTer.
I don’t need anymore fucking t-shirts. Seriously. I have about 450 damn t-shirts. I’ve written about t-shirts over a hundred times at this blog. I wear one every single day. But did I really need to buy 3 more of them? Read on my friends as I answer that burning question as well as give you a quick recap of the Monster Mania convention that went on in Cherry Hill, NJ this weekend.

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Friday the 13th Blood-splattered Lunchbox

Many people who go to conventions like Monster Mania go with an objective. Within the last couple of years they’ve become very routine to me and I’ve been heading there just to browse and meet up with friends to shoot the shit for a while. Usually there’s at least one thing that I’d like to pick up. Sometimes it’s a DVD and rarely there’s a lower tier celebrity appearing who I have a very specific question for. This past weekend became a ridiculous impromptu party with Dino Drac, Freddy in Space, and myself, but I’ll let Dinosaur Dracula do what he does best as he explains that one right here at this link.

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Random sculpture of Hollywood Hulk Hogan’s skeleton still putting himself over in the afterlife

Anyway, what do I always wind up buying? T-shirts. Always t-shirts. My life is consumed by them. It’s a love/hate relationship. This time around I came home with 3. What’s even more insane is that I was flirting with the idea of buying 2 others! That would’ve been 5 shirts in one Monster Mania con.

The first shirt was devised by Shit Movie Fest and Curious Goods, with art by London 1888 and I picked it up for a reason. “Where’s the Fucking Bourbon” is a line from Nightmare on Elm Street Part 3 and it never fails to amuse me. I read last year that the aforementioned crew was making this tee and I thought it was an awesome idea, but par for the course, I forgot all about it. Luckily, they had some left when I stopped by their setup this weekend.

Next up is the incredible tee from Electric Zombie. Lots of old school WWF inspiration over there. Check out their awesome horror related art. This tee called “Camper” has a hottie backpacking through the woods near Camp Crystal Lake. Notice the Jason mask hanging off the backpack. This is just a sampling of the kick ass creations they were offering. I really wanted to buy more, but I had to stop myself.

And finally, I supported our monstrous friends, The Ghouligans with their logo shirt. They have new episodes on the way so stop by their official site.

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Killer Workout from VHSPS

In the DVD department, I stopped by the VHSPS store and picked up the ridiculous cheese-fest known as Killer Workout a.k.a Aerobicide which was recommended to me by @thedarkhours from This tweet of mine made him aware that this sort of thing IS my bag baby. By the way…this movie is so fucking AWFUL.

This installment of Monster Mania exceeded my expectations for reasons other than the crap that I brought home with me. Like I said – check out Dinosaur Dracula’s run down of all the insanity that went on there.