We were supposed to host an in-house photo shoot for
Thee Minks' upcoming 7" this past Sunday but the lovely Miss Liz Lixx rescheduled us, leaving the Kommandant and I with a rare day off. We considered staying home and working on the next issue of c14, which is due to go to the printer at the end of the month - for about a minute. Instead we decided to go out for brunch and hit a flea market in Lambertville, NJ.
The Country Host tends to be a little pricey for our tastes, featuring a lot of vendors selling expensive "antiques" of questionable age, assorted forms of advertising paraphernalia and hand carved seating made of trees. It's usually fun for browsing purposes though and sometimes there are tables filled with cheap junk - which is much more up our alley than brass clocks in the shape of various animals, giant coca-cola signs and tree benches. (Those are actually kind of cool if you're into that type of thing.)
My browsing resulted in the acquisition of two vintage enamel flower pins and a stack of sleaze paperbacks; plus a pair of sunburned shoulders. It was looking like the Kommandant was going to walk away empty handed - which hardly ever happens, as there are dollar record bins at pretty much every flea market we've ever been to and he hasn't met a dollar record bin that didn't contain a piece of vinyl he thought he might like. But then he came across a cranky old dude overseeing table after table of dusty old VHS tapes.
They seemed to be cast-offs from a defunct Blockbuster so the wobbly tables were laden with comedies, chick flicks and children's stuff but he persevered and unearthed copies of
Mighty Peking Man, a movie we've already seen but agreed we would watch again;
Stripped To Kill II, a Roger Corman produced sequel to a mid-'80s slasher flick neither of us had ever heard of; and a movie we kept meaning to rent in order to review as part of our
Decade That Dripped Blood column but never quite got around to it,
Sleepaway Camp. (Oddly enough the three tapes together cost a dollar less than it would have cost us to rent any of them from our local video store.)
I've been wanting to see Sleepaway Camp since I watched a somewhat recent interview with Felissa Rose where she reflects on her role as sullen pre-teen camper Angela. (The interview was part of the extras section on Troma's
Slaughter Party DVD, which I reviewed earlier in the year; I totally and unknowingly spoiled the whole plot of SC in the one sentence I wrote about it in said review, so don't read that if you wanna be somewhat surprised by the ending.) I must admit, it definitely lived up to my expectations of being one crazy f'ed up movie. Interested parties can read the Kommandant's thoughts on this most unusual slasher flick
here.
Also new to the buffet menu this week is a double dose of darkly lit film noir-esque "krimis",
Monster Of London City and
Secret Of The Red Orchid.
This week the BMB menu takes us South of the border, down Mexico way, and straight into a cryptic, terrifying, Crypt Of Terror!
The fresh menu options this week are two flicks from everyone's favorite tusk wearing, mustachioed, cult movie director, Ted V. Mikels. Not that there are any other tusk wearing, mustachioed, cult movie directors that we like any less, or even any others in existence; I just wanted to show TVM a little extra love. (Platonically, of course. Watching his movies is one thing, potentially becoming a "castle lady" is quite another.) But I digress.
I don't know what it's like where you all live but here in Philly it was a steamy, sauna-like 98 degrees today. And it's gotta be at least 98 degrees here in the steamy, sauna-like attic I call an office so let's keep this brief, shall we? 
While we're patiently waiting for the next issue of carbon 14 to make it's way through the printing process we thought we'd briefly veer away from the BMB review pile to bring you a fresh, tasty slice of soon-to-be-hot-off-the-presses content from our hopefully soon-to-be-hot-off-the-presses pages: a look at the eye popping films of Herschell Gordon Lewis, This Stuff'll Kill Ya! Tune in next week for the reviews that Bunny couldn't fit into the layout no matter how hard she tried.
Bunny submits herself to an obscure slice of sixties sexploitation, Joe Marzano's Venus In Furs; and The Kommandant gets on top of Jess Franco's seductive, surreal sexcapade, Venus In Furs.
The Kommandant returns to his Corman Corner to catch Rog's take on Edgar Allan Poe's demonic tale of the ungodly, The Fall Of The House Of Usher.
The Kommandant learns a harsh lesson about schoolyard politics from the Class Of 1984.
