helping Gramps cross the street in his seashell bra
Blogger finally got me, and I now have to sign in with my gmail account, which is a shame because my original blogger user name was sonicpumpkin. Once again I'm in the Whipple computer lab, only this time after a failed attempt at taking a walk. Too cold for my fingers and whatnot.
Earlier today, Dan and I watched Hercules Versus the Moon Men, another one of those 50 Sci-Fi "Classics". Hercules reminds me of the Brawny Paper Towel guy, only in a leather mini skirt. No, really. It's about as manly as a mini skirt gets, but still, it is a mini skirt. Last night while I worked on a shirt, I watched part of Teenagers from Outer Space, forgetting that the DVD cuts off just as we're about to find out what injustices Thor (the evil alien) will subject Derek (the good alien who abhors communism and wants a family) and Betty to, and whether or not Gramps finally crosses the street.
So after that, I watched Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women in it's entirety, featuring Robot John as Robot John and fossilized idol. The seashell bra wearing prehistoric women of Venus worship various prehistoric things, like Ptera the Pterodactyl and the "God of the Fire Mountain." I can just imagine the thought process there. Hmmm, what sort of religion would prehistoric women have? Well, what sort of prehistoric things exist? Yes. Somehow, the movie manages to have a corny falling in love with the natives type storyline, even though the astronauts/ cosmonauts never actually see, meet, or verify the existence of the natives. In the end, and no I don't care that I'm giving away the end to my non-readership, the astronauts leave with almost no evidence, and none of their provisions, but like a small pox infested blanket inadvertently leave their mark on the prehistoric women in the form of Robot John/ SCIENCE!, a new religion to replace Ptera.
It freakin' weirded my out when I learned that the director, Peter Bogdonovich, also directed The Cat's Meow, which I saw recently.
Earlier today, Dan and I watched Hercules Versus the Moon Men, another one of those 50 Sci-Fi "Classics". Hercules reminds me of the Brawny Paper Towel guy, only in a leather mini skirt. No, really. It's about as manly as a mini skirt gets, but still, it is a mini skirt. Last night while I worked on a shirt, I watched part of Teenagers from Outer Space, forgetting that the DVD cuts off just as we're about to find out what injustices Thor (the evil alien) will subject Derek (the good alien who abhors communism and wants a family) and Betty to, and whether or not Gramps finally crosses the street.
So after that, I watched Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women in it's entirety, featuring Robot John as Robot John and fossilized idol. The seashell bra wearing prehistoric women of Venus worship various prehistoric things, like Ptera the Pterodactyl and the "God of the Fire Mountain." I can just imagine the thought process there. Hmmm, what sort of religion would prehistoric women have? Well, what sort of prehistoric things exist? Yes. Somehow, the movie manages to have a corny falling in love with the natives type storyline, even though the astronauts/ cosmonauts never actually see, meet, or verify the existence of the natives. In the end, and no I don't care that I'm giving away the end to my non-readership, the astronauts leave with almost no evidence, and none of their provisions, but like a small pox infested blanket inadvertently leave their mark on the prehistoric women in the form of Robot John/ SCIENCE!, a new religion to replace Ptera.
It freakin' weirded my out when I learned that the director, Peter Bogdonovich, also directed The Cat's Meow, which I saw recently.
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