Dreams Can Come True…….. (according to Gabrielle anyway)

Up to recently my dreams were mainly shit. Nothing to write home about, nothing to talk about in conversation, and mostly not even remembered 30 seconds after waking up. However, this now seems to be changing, and I am beginning to believe my inner self is venturing out and giving me the fun in my dreams that I can only ever fantasise about in real life.

Everyone has fantasies. Some of them we even get to act out, but some of them are always meant to stay as fantasies because in real life, to act them out would either be very wrong and/or quite sickening.

Me? I’ve had several fantasies for many years that have been, and still are, good wanking material. One or two have even been known to be the topic of conversation when enjoying some mutual masturbation with a willing partner. Some have been acted out in some of the porn movies I have watched, but they have been crap compared to using my own imagination.

The one I dreamt out last night is one of those that is never discussed, and one which would horrify most of the female population of the world, and some males. I am also guessing that it is a fantasy of a fair few females, but of course, none would ever admit to it.

So, there I was, walking home alone after a great night out with the girls. Tipsy, but not drunk, taking the short route back across the Rec. The Rec felt safe because it is the place where we all played when we were kids and we all hung out when we were teenagers. It was the place where many of my girlfriends had their first kiss, their first groping session, and for some of them, their first shag. There were always people at the Rec, but tonight it was in darkness and very quiet. All the same, it felt as safe as ever and I sat down on the bench to have a few minutes of reminiscing.

A man approached. He looked familiar, maybe someone I knew when I was younger, I wasn’t really sure. He walked right up to me and stood in front of me, asking me if I was ok. Of course I said. Just having a few thoughts to myself about years gone by. He sat down and started talking about his memories of the Rec. They were different from mine.

The Rec was his hunting ground. The place for him to live out his fantasies. The place for him and his friends to live out their fantasies.

And can I ask what they are? Before the words left my mouth he grabbed me, pushed me to the ground and pinned my arms down. He was looking over me, pinning me down asking me what I wanted. Too shocked to speak, he let out a sharp whistling sound and in seconds, there were 6 guys surrounding me.

My skirt was pulled up, my knickers ripped off and within seconds I felt the first hard cock being shoved hard inside me. He fucked me so hard, but it was over quickly and I felt the warmth of his spunk shooting up inside me.

My mouth was covered to stop me from screaming. I didn’t want to scream. I wanted to moan with pleasure. But they would not know that. I had to struggle, I had to resist.

I was forced to straddle the bench, ass in the air, legs far apart as the next guy came behind me and slid his cock into me. I was wet from cum, and not just his mates, but mine too. He fucked away, groaning and moaning and grabbing my tits, ripping off my blouse and pulling my tits out of my bra. He pinched and scratched me as he fucked. Another load inside me, dribbling down the inside of my thighs.

My legs were hurting, my stomach was pressed hard against the bench and my arms were still being held down. Then I felt pain. The next bastard shoved his cock straight into my ass. I let out of a muffled scream and they all laughed. His cock felt huge as it fucked my virgin ass. With every thrust he went deeper and I felt like he was cutting me in two. The bastard just fucked harder and harder and I was hurting. He finally came, shooting his spunk right into my ass, laughing as he pulled out and walked away.

The next guy asked me what I wanted him to do. I did not answer, I was in shock. He decided he wanted a piece of ass too and his cock slid inside me easily. It was different this time. Yes, it still hurt, but the feeling was immense and through the fear of more pain, I was on my way to another orgasm. I screamed out as the orgasm took over my body. I thought my head was going to explode, it was the most intensely satisfying orgasm I had ever had.

These guys didn’t associate my scream with pleasure, they just thought I was screaming with fear, so again, a hand went hard against my mouth to muffle the sound.

So it went on, each guy taking their turn to fuck me, once, twice, three times. I was eventually thrown to one side as they all sat around smoking and drinking. I couldn’t get up, my knees were all cut and bloody, my arms and chest bitten, scratched and pinched and I had no energy to move.

In the darkness, they could not see the satisfied grin on my face. I’d just had the best few hours fucking of my life. Slightly sad though because I knew it would never be repeated. Unless of course, dreams can come true.

Fat Adam

The first time I met fat Adam was at a school mate’s eighth birthday party. It was the obligatory bouncy castle party. A novel concept that involved a room full of screaming, over excited children, lashings of sickly, sugary party food and an inflatable castle where they could vent their youthful exuberance and more often than not their dinner as well.

 

He was lay prone on the bright yellow and blue castle, making a horrendous groaning noise that I can still hear in my mind twenty two years later. He had eaten the party’s entire supply of Jaffa cakes, no mean feat considering the birthday boys, parents wealth, generosity and it being the late eighties a time long before Jamie Oliver and the food Nazis.

 

It was also the best part of a decade before Jackass, but due to what can only be described some kind of intrinsic force, the male faction of the party gathered around him hoping he so see him bark his chocolate orange cake based lunch onto the canary yellow vinyl.

 

They were ultimately left disappointed, as after a five minute or so respite he arose, phoenix like from his stupor and clambered off the castle to go and find an empty seat at the table to make a start on the plate of chocolate fingers.

 

Not long after the party he moved house into the same neighbourhood as me. A lower middle class collection of ex council houses, framed by fields and the main road. The solitary boundary to our then infantile world.

 

He soon merged into the small group of friends the neighbourhood had thrown together, none of us really fitting in anywhere else but there. Over the following years we played and fought, friendships never broken for more than a few hours and never over anything more serious than an over zealous tackle or a playful insult that dug a little too close to the bone.

 

Together we all found our limits and pushed through them with the help of stolen cigarettes and cigars from parents, homebrewed cider obtained from relations, some skillfully acquired hash from older brothers and the seemingly endless supply of mushrooms growing in the surrounding fields.

 

Adam had a hunger for the mushrooms as he did jaffa cakes as a child, there was never enough and for the short few weeks at the start of autumn he was rarely part of reality.

 

We always tried to have at least one group trip, the five of us together lay gazing as the stars danced across infinity for us. Never ones to try and better the experience by going on silly quests we simply let our world wash over us.

 

As high school ended our small group fragmented and we drifted slowly apart, people went off to college and then uni, girls were met, children were had, jobs were found and priorities changed.

 

I haven’t seen any of them properly for years now but I still can’t see a jaffa cake and not think of Fat Adam.

Todays Gripe

So at work I have this calendar, one of those desk top, day to day ones with a quote and little snippet of pointless information regarding the day.

 

Now the quotes can range from the mundane to the profound to the nonsensically insane, there was one a while back that had something to do with not swatting a bluebottle off your friend’s nose with a rock. I think it’s about trying to help and being heavy handed about it and making things worse or maybe the writer actually did break one of his mate’s nose trying to startle a fly. And it will be a man who has written that hitting a mate in the face with a rock in an effort to make things better just isn’t a female train of thought.

 

So anyway today’s quote, is “Every man is guilty of all the good he didn’t do” now just think about that for a minute

 

“Every man is guilty of all the good he didn’t do”

 

Isn’t that neat? It strikes you at first with the moral good deed for the day crap and sort of tries to poke you into being a better person, you know helping old ladies across the road, waving at dogs that type of thing.

 

But look closer and you’ll see what it really says is we are all guilty; we’ll never be good enough so why bother. No matter what you do there will be something you didn’t.

 

And that’s how you measure a man, by his failures not his success take Bill Gates, he is a modest man who has brought computing to the masses, gives millions upon millions to charity but he is responsible for Vista so, you know he may as well have invented the Iron Maiden or been Hitler’s best buddy.

Same with Michael Jackson, written and performed so of the greatest music ever brought the moonwalk to the masses but nobody can praise the dude for any of that now, he’s just a creepy looking, possibly child molesting freak.

 

Same way you can bet there will never be a Gary Glitter best of album released.

 

But Pete Townsend is still cool in peoples eyes, that one has been swept right under the carpet, of course he was just doing research  so that’s ok.

 

I mean that is a totally plausible explanation, doing research for a book that still has never seen the light of day.

 

But he was in the Who, still is, half the band are dead of course, why do bands die in totally the wrong order? John not Paul, Kurt not Pat and yes Pat Smear was a member of Nirvana; he played on In Utero and toured with them.  No matter who tells you otherwise they were more than just a three piece and have a closer listen to Nevermind while we are at it, its an average at best album. Not the masterpiece we are told at all, Ten is a better album, Superfuzz Bigmuff even more so. But it had Smells Like Teen Spirit a rebellious anthem on heavy rotation on the most corporate of corporate soulless machines ever Mtv.

 

Because you know the best type of rebellion is the commercial type, the type that everybody follows. You can try and rebel as much as you like just keep spending that cash.

 

Money is a scary thing people will do almost anything for it, a wiseman once said that as soon as you hawk any product you are off the cool list forever. Johnny Rotten has always been a grade A free range top of the range tit, going on I’m a celebrity did him no favours at all, no matter how much he swore on live telly but those butter adverts render him and anything that falls out of his mouth from now until the end of time null and void.

Hairy McFred & The Circus

Narrator- Hairy McFred is a great big man, with a great big beard. A great big ginger beard. Some say that he hides mice in his beard, others say he keeps sandwiches in it for when he’s hungry. The truth is that no one really knows what’s inside his beard. But one thing we do know is that Hairy McFred is a very jolly soul indeed. Wherever he goes, you can hear him walking along, laughing- usually at a joke he has just heard, for example;

Hairy McFred- What’s brown and sticky? A stick! Hoho ho ho ho!

Narrator- So there we have him- Hairy McFred. A bigger, more gentle man you couldn’t wish to meet. One other thing to know about Hairy McFred is that he’s always finding himself in the middle of an unusual adventure. Oh yes, he’s trekked through the jungles of Africa, he’s had tea with the Pope, he’s raced a kangaroo in Australia (he won the race too). Today was going to be no different for Hairy McFred, who was on his way to the shops to buy himself an nice ice cream…

Hairy McFred- Hmm, what flavour shall I have today? Strawberry? Vanilla? Chocolate- oh yes, chocolate. Or, hmm, yes, I could always have meat pie flavoured! I do like meat pie flavoured ice cream. Or stew and dumplings- the best kind of ice cream there is...

HEEELLLPP!

Hairy McFred- Oh dear, It sounds like someone’s in trouble, I’d better see if I can help.

Narrator- So Hairy McFred ran to where he heard the voice, only to see a circus big top! There was chaos, clowns were running around like headless chickens, the high wire troupe had climbed onto the tent to get out of the way, and there was a very startled looking elephant rearing up, and generally looking very unhappy.

Hairy McFred- What’s the problem?

Ringmaster- Our elephant caught sight of a mouse, jumped back, and squashed his trainer completely flat! Now we have a very scared elephant, and no trainer to calm him down! What shall we do?

Narrator- Now, as I’ve already told you, Hairy McFred is no stranger to an adventure, and met a herd of elephants the last time he was in Africa. They’d taught him a little bit of their language, enough, he hoped, to be able to help here, so he cleared his throat;

Hairy McFred- H-HMMM

Narrator- Racked his brains for the right thing to say;

Hairy McFred- errrr

Narrator- And let out an almighty bellow

Hairy McFred- Trumpeting noise

Narrator- Just like that, the elephant stopped it’s frantic trumpeting, stood
od up straight on all four legs, and slowly turned his head. The circus troupe looked on in amazement as he raised his long nose, and actually spoke (in elephant of course) to Hairy McFred.

Narrator- Of course, Hairy McFred wasn’t at all surprised, he’d just asked the elephant if he was ok, and was relieved to hear the elephant reply that yes, he was quite alright actually. He wasn’t particularly scared of mice, but this one had taken him quite by surprise. Now, though, the elephant was very sad indeed that he’d flattened his trainer.

Well, Hairy McFred passed all of this onto the ringmaster, and, with a glint in his eye, asked;

Hairy McFred- Could I join your circus as the elephant trainer for a while please? I’ve always wanted to be part of the circus, and as you can see, I’m very good with elephants indeed

Ringmaster- Why of course you can! Poor old Len there isn’t in much of a state for romping around with old Bertie- well, not until we can think of a way of puffing him back up to his full size again. He’s been squashed quite flat!

Narrator- Well, having forgotten all about his ice cream, Hairy McFred rushed home to pack some spare pants and socks, several clean shirts, three pairs of trousers, his beard brush, and not to forget his tooth brush. As he was zipping up his massive suit case, he heard a jingling sound outside, and opened the door just in time to see two clowns pole vaulting over his front hedge. On the road there was a looooooong line of carriages and trailers full of everything the circus has. There was Bertie, the elephant at the front, two fierce looking tigers in a cage, a strong man lifting incredibly heavy weights, a lady with a beard, and more clowns than Hairy McFred could count.

Ringmaster- Hairy McFred, you can use Len’s carriage until we can get him pumped up again. He won’t need it at the moment- we’ve got him rolled up in a tube in my office out of the way.

Narrator- And so off they went, a merry procession, that’s for sure, and they travelled around the world, to places that even Hairy McFred himself had never visited, like the flugelpits of East Borbellina. They entertained everyone, and everyone loved them, so much so that Hairy McFred alone had many many invites from people that whenever he was near there again, he must surely pop in for some tea and cakes.

When they got to India, they decided that it was time to find someone who could pump up poor old Len, who was very miserable indeed- well, wouldn’t you be if you were only half a centimetre thick and unable to eat cakes. So they tracked down Yogi Logi, the most wise man in the whole wide world.

Hairy McFred- Yogi Logi, we have travelled for many many miles to find you, to ask for your help.

Yogi Logi- And what help do you need?

Hairy McFred- My friend Len has been squashed quite flat by an elephant, and we were wondering if you could help us?

Yogi Logi- Hmm, let me see him.

Narrator- And so Hairy McFred took out the large cardboard tube that he was carrying on his back, pulled out a very flat, and somewhat disgruntled looking Len, and rolled him out on the floor.

Yogi Logi- Ah yes, quite simple this one, I’ve seen it before with our Indian elephants.

Narrator- The Yogi hobbled to the back of his hut, opened a large chest, and rummaged around inside for several minutes, making muttering sounds, and throwing out items he didn’t need, until eventually, he said;

Yogi Logi- AHA!

Narrator- And stood up with what looked like a very grand bicycle pump. It was covered with jewels, made to look like an elephant (with small ears, because it was made in India, and, as we all know, the difference between Indian and African elephants is that African elephants have very large ears, but Indian elephants have very small ones). He put the valve end into Len’s flat mouth, took a tight hold of the barrel, and started to pump

Narrator- As if by magic, Len began to inflate, starting with his fingers and toes, then his hands and feet, and then his arms, and legs until he was back to normal. Well, his nose still looked a little flat, but Hairy McFred later found out that Len had always had an unusually flat nose- an injury that he picked up when he was learning how to work with elephants.

Len- Oh, thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! I don’t know how to thank you any more!

Yogi Logi- Oh, no thank you’s are necessary, I’m just glad that I was able to help you.

Narrator- And so, a very happy circus troupe began to make their way back to England, and Hairy McFred’s home town of Little Widdling.

Ringmaster- Thank you very much indeed Hairy McFred, you’ve been an excellent elephant trainer, and some of your jokes were very funny indeed!

Len- And thank you for teaching me some elephant, Bertie and I can have great conversations now, and he’s promised never to flatten me again.

Hairy McFred- No, thank you all for making me feel so welcome, and letting me have so much fun with you all, I’ll never it. Next time you are in town, I insist that you come to my house for tea and cakes!

Narrator- And so a happy Hairy McFred stood at his gate and waved at the circus as they disappeared over the horizon, Bertie trumpeting all the way, with Len sat high up on his head, leading the March. Eventually, all was calm and quiet again. Until Hairy McFred said to himself;

Hairy McFred I never did get that ice cream.

Narrator- So, Hairy McFred pulled on his big shoes, grabbed his favourite hat, and stepped out on the pavement, on the walk to the shops, whistling as he went….

The Liar

I feel its time to let the cat out of the bag, the genie out of the bottle, to break character, drop the mask and tell you the truth. I think you deserve it.

 

You see the truth is I lie, a lot. I don’t just simply stretch the truth a little; I live in a world of fabrication, deception and outright fantasy.

 

The fabrication bit is the hardest to maintain as it’s easy to slip up with the little details. There has to depth to a good lie, it has to be real enough to be plausible, mundane enough to be believable, small enough to slip past almost unnoticed.

 

Deception is tricky the easiest way to do it is to pass off other people’s misfortunes and accomplishments as your own. This isn’t as easy as it sounds you need to know every intricate detail of the event that has now happened in your life as far as the people you tell are concerned.

 

Fantasy is the easiest this is simply things you want to happen, the person you want to be or the person other people want you to be. We all lie on this front, everybody lies about who they are to some degree. There are many reasons for it all as valid as each other, from a simple bumping up of exam grades on your cv to omitting things about yourself to the woman in the bar, Really this isn’t actually lying to them, you just haven’t told them the truth.

 

Now we have covered the basis of my deceitful existence we can move on to the finer points. Firstly why do I lie?

 

 This simple sounding question is almost impossible to answer. Every lie has a difference purpose.

 

Some lies back up other lies.

 

I was in a fight, this is the first lie it spikes your interest.

What happened? I had my nose broke, this is the second it gains sympathy.

But I broke his jaw, this is the third it bolsters my hardman image.

 

Truth is I have never thrown a punch in anger in my entire life. These three simple little lies can flow fast and the order can change depending on the situation. They can be extended as well.

 

Why did I break his jaw?

He jumped me and tried to mug me, self defence.

He was hitting his girlfriend so I stepped in, noble cause.

 

I go from thug to possibly misguided hero in two easy little fabricated steps

 

A deceptive lie would run like this

 

I was in the nightclub and this girl said if I scored her some tabs I could go back to her place with her and her girlfriend.  

 

I hate nightclubs, I am painfully shy, I have never, nor would ever take drugs and I would never have sex with a near stranger in this day and age. The deception hides all this.

 My sister knows a girl who does this, uses stupid men to buy her drinks and drugs in the hope of a hot threesome that will never happen I just turn it to me being the lucky fellow.

 

Fantasy could be anything

 

When me and my sister were little she fell into the river and I pulled her out and saved her from drowning.

 

I don’t have a sister; I grew up as a lonely only child who yearned for a playmate and to be the protective big brother.

 

So in short I lie to make myself look bigger, stronger, and kinder. To hide the truth and make myself feel better. I lie to pass the time, for my own amusement, so I have something to add to the conversation instead of standing there on the sidelines like a mute. I lie to make you feel better about yourself; I lie so you like me.

 

But you have to ask yourself, how much of what I just told you is the truth?

 

Because it can’t be all of it.

The Ballad Of The Conceptual Depressive

People think I’m miserable, I suppose to a certain extent it’s true. I do moan about a lot of things, mostly it’s just trivial stuff, things of no great consequence in the long run of our short little lives.

And our lives are short people, and that my friends is why I bitch, whine and moan about the little things that bug me in the world.

 

I don’t agree with the people who say its too short though, “life’s too short to be miserable” Well if I live to be eighty fucking twelve and end up pissing in my pants, not being able to walk, not being able to see, being bat shit mental life is going to seem maybe a bit too fucking long, I’d rather die in my prime, well maybe a little past my prime but you know long before the rot sets in.

 

People put so much importance on such stupid things “this isn’t the coffee I ordered” Shut the fuck up, it’s a cup of coffee, the world is still spinning and there are people in the world with no clean drinking water let alone some poncey overly complicated overly priced cup of fucking coffee.

Does anyone else like to go into places like Starbucks and just ask for a cup of coffee? Really messes with them and their stupid self important system.

 

Anyway there are people in the world who have to walk miles just to get water, and that’s a terrible thing, it really is. I’m not one of those do gooders who come begging for money mind, why don’t they move closer to the water source? Isn’t that logical? I can’t be the only one who sits shouting at the television “Move house you dumb motherfuckers”

 

Its not like they have prime real estate as it is, they have no windows, they don’t admire the view and how much trouble would it be to build a new mud hut a mile down the road?

 

“this is Carmekka, she doesn’t know how to feed her 8 children …. Maybe, just maybe mind she shouldn’t have so many fucking kids then?

 

I know there isn’t a lot to do out there but maybe a bit of mutual masturbation; bit of oral hell even anal would have been a better idea than dropping that many kids when there is a famine going on.

 

Now don’t get me wrong I’m all for helping people, Drop the debt and all that but Jesus don’t you think they should help themselves a little as well? Cut back on the breeding and move huts it’s not a solution by any means but its going to help and a lot more than holding a concert hosted by that self important scruffy Irish twat.

 

There is another one who needed to stop breeding , I’m sick of the endless line of “famous” brats who think because their parents had an iota of talent they have the right to cash in on it. Peaches fucking Geldolf bitch can’t do anything, if her dad was anyone else she would be just another failed art student working at a supermarket and unlike the Osbourne’s her dad was shit and still is shit. The Boomtown rats fucks sake their biggest gig was live aid and if any other fucker had ran the show would they have been booked?

 

Ok who have we got .. Dire Straits, Black Sabbath, We are highlighting poverty by flying Phil Collins across the world to play twice, the boomtown rats, Status Quo, U2 ..

 

Wooo back up The boomtown rats? The I don’t like Monday’s bunch? The chandelier saxophone bunch? They were a shit band with what, two? ok at best songs. Having them play live aid is the second biggest ego stroke ever, having them play again twenty years later, is the biggest ego wank ever because the cocksucker was more self aware, that fist in the air drawn out silence that went on way too fucking long, the scabby white suit all had nothing to do with charity and everything about him and his desire to be heard.

 

It also infuriates me to be told to donate to charity by millionaires, put your hands in your own pockets first you hypocritical mother fuckers and its not just live aid, or live 8 it’s all of these televised events. Terry Wogan gets paid to ask us to donate our money? How does that work? How about you don’t put the shitfest out, save his fee and donate that instead?

 

Same with charity records, they are always shit, always without fail, there is no exception to this rule so stop trying to think of one.

Rather than pay 97p to hear a bunch of talentless wanna be’s off the x factor wail their way through a song, give say £1.50 to the charity and don’t inflict this shit on the world. You are never going to listen to the fucking thing anyway.

 

Here is a little thought to end on, the x factor has been going for how long now? Best part of a decade .. why doesn’t anyone who comes runner up reenter the contest?

Surely if they finish say, third one year technically they should win the next? As the second placed person always gets a contract anyway, rendering the first “prize” void.

Surely the longer this shower of shit goes on the less chance there is of finding any new talent leaving them with the scum they skimmed off the year before?

 

Its just a thought.

Horror Movie Rule, Regulations and Survival tips

1. Zombies do not run
2. Zombies Do Not Run
3. Zombies do not speak
4. The only way to kill a zombie is to remove the head or destroy the brain
5. The brighter the blood the better the film
6. People infected with the rage virus are not zombies (see rules 1&2)
7. Most of the jokes in Shaun of the Dead are amazingly subtle
8. Frankenstein was the doctor not the creature
9. Stereo is an acceptable method of vampire killing
10. If John says that any bullet will kill a werewolf it is good enough for me
11. A good killer can use anything to kill you, Jason has used a belt tightened over someone’s head, can you do that?
12. The more sequels that are made …. the messier the plot line gets
13. …The less frightening the killer becomes
14. …The more elaborate the killings will be
15. …The kids will become sassier and wiser to the killer but still die anyway
16.  The ultimate running time for a horror movie is 90 minutes
17. Or less
18. Apart from Romero
19. Tony Todd may be a bit camp but the motherfucker is made out of Bees and has a crowbar for a hand
20. Never pick up a hitchhiker in Texas
21. Or anywhere else really, they will bring about your death
22. If you awaken in a strange house surrounded by freaks, running full tilt out of a second storey window is a perfectly acceptable means of escape
23. Leatherface is the most normal member of the family
24.  Listen to your children if they say they see dead people, their new doll is talking to them or if there is a creepy old burnt dude with knives for fingers in their dreams don’t just ignore them.
25. Stephen King can make anything scary
26. But it will be set in maine
27. Anybody who is scared of clowns will blame Mr King and IT
28. Pennywise the clown is Tim Curry’ finest moment
29. Carrie didn’t need a sequel
30. Nor did Scream
31. Or 28 Days Later
32. Or Saw
33. Or Blair Witch
34. Or the Omen
35. Or The Exorcist
36. Or Psycho
37. Remakes are never any good
38. No really, NEVER
39. Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates? What idiot cast that?
40. If you are (un)lucky enough to survive a Plane/Car crash and are young and good looking be prepared to die in an amazingly over the top and complicated fashion
41. The Shining is so much more than Jack Nicholson grinning through a door
42. Bogeyman is the single worst horror movie ever made
43. yes worse than Children of the living dead
44. Abbot Hayes is awesome
45. Tom Savini can do no wrong  
46. The majority of the video nasties are terrible, terrible films.
47. No matter how many times you see it you can never … get your head around a zombie fighting with a shark
48.  ….. Not wince at the splinter in the eyeball bit
49. … Not laugh at the flat headed zombie getting his head sliced by the helicopter
50. ….Not wonder how great Frank must be in bed for her to still want him despite him having no skin
51. … Not think that pinhead is one of the most wasted characters ever
52. Vampires shouldn’t hiss it looks and sounds stupid
53. All late seventies/early eighties Italian horrors are worth watching at least once
54. The Washing Machine wins the award for the weirdest horror film ever
55. After watching the Birds you never look at a flock the same way again
56. Cheap horror can be a thing of beauty and excellence
57. Peter Jackson should go back to his roots
58. So should Sam Rami
59. Any right minded individual would just outright refuse to be killed by a small ginger doll
60. Twist endings are over done
61. So is faux irony
62. The killer never dies first time around
63. The jock will always die
64. And the cheerleader
65. So will the black kid
66. Apart from in Romero films
67. Scary Movies devotion to Horror film parody is so complete even the sequels are shit, cheap cash ins
68. Hostel only works because deep down you believe that there are places like that in the real world
69. My Little Eye is an underappreciated classic and a film that dvd extras and easter eggs are perfect for
70. Every time you see a short elderly woman you hear “Carol Anne” in a high pitched voice
71. The best thing about Jason goes to hell are the final 5 seconds
72. The final 5 seconds are ruined by how gash Freddy Vs Jason really is
73. Freddy Vs Jason Vs Ash is a brilliant comic series but would fail as a film on an epic scale
74. More films need the main character cutting their own hand off and the attaching a chainsaw to  the stump
75. Deadites are not zombies the best thing I can think of to describe them are ghouls
76. Without Loomis Halloween means nothing
77. Explaining the killers backstory too in depth can weaken the plot beyond repair
78. Zombie children are scary
79. The zombie baby was super lame
80. Romero has the ability to capture an important social issue and scare/entertain at the same time
81. The ending to Carrie will always make you jump
82. You didn’t see her mum hid behind the door first time around
83. Once you have seen the subliminal shots in the exorcist you’ll never miss them again
84. The true classics of the genre should always be viewed with the time of production in mind, watching the exorcist with your post ironic hipster head on is stupid
85. Christopher Lee will always be Dracula
86. more people should watch the Wicker Man
87. No, not the Nicholas Cage one, the fewer people who see that the better
88. American Werewolf in London is an awesome film
89. American Werewolf in Paris is not
90.  Michael Myers should never be confused with mike Myers
91. Wes Cravens New Nightmare may only be a 15 rated film but it works a lot better than most of the other nightmares
92. Jeepers Creepers is stupid even by horror movie standards
93. If they had simply followed the river in Blair Witch they should have been alright
94. But the ending was perfect
95. Cannibal Holocaust will shock you the first time you see it
96. after that its still not exactly a giggle fest
97. The video nasty list is best viewed as a shopping list
98. Don’t go and see what that noise was
99. Don’t go into the woods, ever.
100. Don’t split up, you should  have learnt this from Scooby Doo
101. Ignore who you first think is the killer its never them
102. Don’t bother calling the police
103. Realising that guns are useless against the supernatural sooner rather than later will save your life
104. Never read out loud the creepy old book you find in the cabin in the woods
105. Never bully anyone, ever.
106. Never visit any small town populated by inbreds
107. Never adopt a child
108. Never put your kid in an asylum
109. Never hide a secret
110. Never tell ghost stories
111. Don’t build a house on an Indian burial ground
112. Don’t let your kid sit too close to the tv
113. Don’t try and solve that weird metal rubix cube thing you find
114. Don’t try and live in the mall
115. Or an underground bunker
116. Never go back and look for someone
117. Make sure you always have a full tank of fuel and a spare tyre
118. Don’t try to reopen a camp that has been closed for years following a death
119. Never stop at a motel
120. Don’t let you eldest son hang out with a group of pretty 80’s teenagers who ride motorbikes
121. Don’t date the posh old bloke from the video store
122. Read the text correctly
123. Never have any sort of transplant
124. Don’t say Candyman three times, that fucker is made out of Bees
125. Don’t watch that video that is rumoured to have killed people
126. Listen to the local mad old fellow
127. Buy a great big dog
128. But shoot it as soon as it even looks like it has rabies
129. Make plans and stick to them, do not take sort cuts or stop off at quaint looking towns
130. Buy knives with flat ends
131. Actually avoid anything sharp
132. Never sleep
133. Never trust anybody to wake you up
134. Never forget that fire will kill pretty much everything
135. And if fire won’t, water is a good alternative
136. Stay away from any chemical plants, there will be a leak resulting in the undead rising
137. Stay well away from little pale girls with long black hair
138. Learn to run in a straight line
139. Maybe get some hurdling practice in to avoid all those logs and tree roots people always trip on
140. Never go into a graveyard
141. Don’t piss off the locals
142. Don’t go into the jungle to make a documentary and then set fire to a tribe
143. Kill yourself as soon as you get bitten by anything
144. Stay away from stoners
145. Never have teenage pre marital sex
146. Probably best to avoid the classy milf who wants to have sex but only in the attic
147. Never try and bargain with a demon it will only end in tears
148. If a Vicar tells you to kill your son, do it quickly
149. Beware the moon
150. Avoid witty one liners, they will be the last thing you ever say
151. If you have any relation, no matter how distant that has killed the rest of the family, move far, far and change your name.
152. If your loved one becomes obsessed with anything to the point of scary lunacy, kill them quick sharp
153. Never go and stay in an empty hotel over the winter
154. Stay away from anyone with black hair wearing a trenchcoat  they are obviously a vampire
155. Anyone with pale blue eyes is a safe bet as well
156.  Always lie about your address that way no one will ever track you down and kill you
157. Never answer the phone
158. Never hang around with a group of 5-6 people with very different backgrounds but one hidden common theme
159. Don’t bother looking for the killer’s body, it won’t be there and its valuable running away time wasted.
160. 80’s heavy metal = sure fire death
161. Never have a party while your parents are away
162. Always carry a mirror around with you, it’s a handy tool for checking for vampires quickly
163. All bats must die
164. If it has been one year exactly since something tragic happened, turn the lights off, lock the door, hide under the bed and pretend no one is home. It might not save you but its got to be worth a go
165. buy a wind up torch this will come in handy during those pesky power cuts/ battery dead moments of death
166. If you run over the killer at least reverse over them to make sure of the job
167. Don’t move into a house where every single previous occupant has died, you will be next
168. Corn fields are to be avoided at all costs
169. Also avoid anywhere that is commonly referred to as “the old  (insert surname) place” Death will follow
170. Pay attention, the clues are always there
171. Don’t ever disrupt a tomb, the dead will come after you
172. If you do ever cross paths with a mummy try and find George of the Jungle he’ll sort them out
173. Always have your local Priests number on speed dial
174. The plot doesn’t have to make sense it’s the body count that is important
175. Get your cast to sign cast iron contracts they may well go on to be a superstar and want to bury your piece of crap film in the future
176. Jason X was a step too far
177. Sometimes its what you don’t see that is scary
178. Once you have seen Omen IV you can never unsee it
179. The difference between Christine and Herbie is minimal
180. A good musical score can save a film
181.  If you aren’t scared by the incredible melting man you damn well should be
182. The best part of final destination was when Stiffler had his head cut off
183. Bruce Willis plays a ghost better than Patrick Swayze did
184. Jamie Lee Curtis cut off Michael Myers head with a fucking axe and they still made another film, that is the power of a good franchise
185. Nightmare on Elm street 2 was the start of the decline
186. Nobody will ever say that Friday 13^th part seven: Jason takes Manhattan is the best one of the series
187. But they will say it is better than both Nine and Ten
188. A sack over the head is the best disguise ever
189. One of the best bits in Scream was when Fonze got killed
190. The tits to kill quota in a good horror movie should be roughly 1:1
191. Carrie is John Travoltas best film, easily
192. Carrie 2: The Rage was nice because you got to see one of the kids from Home Improvements without Tim Allen gurning and grunting like a fool
193.  Jack Nicholson makes a crap Werewolf
194. A good strap line tells you everything you need to know about the film i.e. who will survive and what will be left of them?
195. Also the title will give you a good indicator of the quality, anything with massacre, dead or zombie in the title is normally a winner
196. One notable exception to this is Dead and Rotting
197. Full frontal nudity isn’t a must but is always a nice surprise
198. Apart from maybe in Carrie, that opens like a soft porn film then the shower scene spoils the mood somewhat
199. Bruce Campbell equals win
200. House of 1000 corpses doesn’t really make a lot of sense but Captain Spaulding was great anyway