KICKSTART MY HEART. AGAIN.

Well, if we can have movies about zombie strippers and snakes on planes, why can’t we have a sequel to Crank?



The synopsis says it all.

STORY: In spite of having fallen a mile from a helicopter at the end of CRANK, Chev Chelios faces a Chinese mobster who has stolen his nearly indestructible heart and replaced it with a battery-powered ticker that requires regular jolts of electricity to keep working.

Well, why not? The first one gave us the most ludicrous sex scene ever made in a B-movie action film [NSFW, obviously]:

Hopefully there’ll be more of that. To say nothing of the car-chase/blowjob scene.

I have to admit, I liked the first one. It's completely over-the-top stupid in so many ways, written and directed by two guys who actually enjoy making movies, and as action heroes go, Jason Statham is more fun to watch than most A-list action stars I can think of. Plus, how many directors would use Rocket From The Crypt in the soundtrack? Not Michael Bay. He probably has no idea who RFTC are. Fuck him.

If this doesn’t do it for you, there’s always Transporter 3 to look forward to. Because there’s no such thing as too many pointless sequels with Jason Statham. Apparently.

I’m alive,

This is dF

GOD IS A THONG SNAPPER

As a licensed FCC operator, I am often asked why I don’t extend my disc-jockey skills to the club scene.

Well, it’s probably to do with my name.

Your DJ Name Is:

DJ Thong Snapper

What's Your DJ Name?

No one will hire you with a name like that. Not even strip clubs. But I’m not changing my name to DJ Funkee Beatz or something. It’s not who I am.

FUN FACT: I have done the party DJ gig exactly two (2) times in my life.

The first was at a Holiday Inn lounge in Clarksville, TN, where they did not appreciate my Jason & The Scorchers records. Or the fact that I refused to play anything by Chicago. Or Skynyrd. Or Lee Greenwood.

The second was at a WIDB party in Carbondale, IL. I forget the name of the venue (some club on the strip), but I did get a reprimand for playing Superchunk’s “Slack Motherfucker” – even though one of my fellow IDBers (Slacker Jen) demanded it. I think we both were right in the end, but I paid the price – it was only after I got back to my studio apt that I realized someone had stolen all my Danzig and Frank Zappa albums.

Which is the other reason I don’t DJ anymore.

Put the needle on the record,

This is dF

INDIANA DECLARES WAR ON SEXY®

ITEM: As of last week, in the state of Indiana, if you sell sexually explicit material, you must register with the government. Yes, that includes bookstores that sell Piers Anthony novels. Probably.

ITEM: In a stunning act of serendipitous contrast, a new documentary reports that in East Germany, where Western porn was banned, military officials went and made their own porn (albeit it was closer to Carry On films than the Dark Brothers).

Which I think means that there’s still hope for Indiana. You’ll still have sexy books and movies – they’ll just be state-manufactured.

Not that I’m comparing Indiana with East Germany. I’ve been to both, and Indiana is by far a better place to spend a weekend on leave. Still, I can’t believe that anyone who grew up during the Cold War could come up with a law like this without thinking, “Hold on, didn’t the Commies and the Nazis do this kind of thing? And if so, should we really be emulating them?”

Shows how much I know.

And here’s the punch line: the law in question was written by a Democrat. Let’s see Fox News explain THAT.

SUPPLEMENTAL VIEWING

Ilsa, She-Wolf Of The SS

Praise the Load

The New York Post

Indiana and the Temple Of Love,

This is dF