It seems like ages since I was actually at Frightfest now, but I’ve been so busy ordering amazing trainers online and having my haircut and running out of socks because I can’t be bothered to do any washing and defrosting chicken breasts and slotting it bigstyle and downing the pin out of some chins and drinking Frangelico which is the world’s best liqueur and drawing pictures of Wolverine and drawing pictures of hot women and accidentally falling in love with them and doing a bit more shunting the big-gun up the sexy chute and rinsing it out on the lagers with the big boys and telling people to fuck off and pumping so much steel you’d shit your pants if you saw it and doing shits in the bog and not flushing them for a laugh and not doing cardio because I’m not some sort of wack-ass pussy and telling egg-yolks to get the fuck out of my omelette and eliminating any male competition with a flurry of elbows and watching various 18s on my sweet-hole widescreen riding on 42s and cruising round town in my souped-up whip picking slutwise sorts from the side-streets and busting it up with a swift lick of my veiny road-hog while they sing my praises to high-Heaven and flick it up beantown with a dutty wine and a no-condoms-barred attitude to match my uncontrollably swinging thrust-hose. So I haven’t really been able to update in a while, sorry.
Still, here’s the last day.
So as it was my last day, I felt the need to up my ram-count, so instead of watching the first film I opted for a quick spot of the old in-and-out with a busty broad in the bogs. Then after that I had a fucking threesome whatareyougoingtodoaboutit. As such, I missed out on A Night in the Woods, which to be honest, sounded like a fucking stroll in the woods at night. Not my bag. Unless of course there’s been previous arrangements to meet a naughty filly in said woods and stud till the cows spoil the broth. Either way, I wasn’t in the slightest bit interested – it looked too much like The Blair Witch Project which I haven’t even let anywhere near my penis.
Next up was Deadheads, which was a zombie film, and therefore had a high chance of being an 18. However, IT IS FUCKING NOT, so it was off to Subway for a Chicken Temptation with extra cheese and fucking loads of gherkins but if you even think about putting an olive on it then I’m going to have to smash the place up you sucker MC.
Next up was Switzerland’s first horror film – Sennentuntschi: Curse of the Alps – which seems a bit weird because they produced [remember to insert well-known Swiss movie which wasn’t a horror movie but was so bad it could be seen as one as a joke]!!!! But that’s what they kept saying so I let them have their fun, and I also gave their film the benefit of the doubt. If it seemed like it was going the 15 route then I would leave and parade my roasting boner around the foyer instead.
As it went, it didn’t go the 15 route, and as such I reckon this one was quite the fantastic 18. It’s about this weird (but very fit) woman who turns up in a little village and because all the women in the village are rank, they immediately hate her and start spreading a rumour that she’s the titular demon and she’s out to bum everyone in the dick or something. Basically things go mental and she ends up in this cabin with two blokes and it all goes a bit horrible which isn’t great, but then it gets a bit more entertaining at the end. Yet even through all the horrible stuff, it still remains bloody well wicked and I recommend it massively. But should it be rated a 15 you must immediately forget all that has been said about this film today.
The penultimate film was Inbred, which I was excited about because it had a really gory trailer and was clearly going to be an 18. It was directed by Alex Chandon, who helmed the supremely shit Cradle of Fear, but I’m not one to hold a grudge so I was up for it big-time and Z-Boyz.
As I had predicted, it was FUCKING gory. It’s a straight-up slasher about a load of inbred (obviously) nutcases that start killing this group of teenagers and their carers (they’re naughty teenagers you see). The film exists solely for the death scenes, which are spectacularly inventive and combine to form one of the most disgusting slashers I’ve seen in a month of donkeys’ bollocks.
Lastly, and certainly leastly, was A Lonely Place to Die which I unfortunately didn’t see because I couldn’t get into the cinema such was the sheer volume of rusks that had to be shipped in for all the babies in the auditorium to suck on while they farted and weed in their nappies. Shame that – I reeeeeeeeeeeeeally wanted to see it.
So instead, during the film I asked a girl outside to pull my finger, and she got it confused with my penis and pulled it with her vagina.
I STILL FARTED THOUGH.
And that was that. Frightfest 2011 was over. I’d watched some good films, some bad ones, and skipped some utterly awful ones to make room for some aggressive and sweaty copulation. All in all, I’d had a whale of a time, and so had all the females I had come into contact with, and therefore I was happy as I went home for the last time this year.
I’m already looking forward to next year, but lets hope they pull the Curly-Wurly out of their backside and put a boycott on all the 15s, because as much fun as shagging is, that’s not what I paid for – I paid for movies, and I missed out on a lot of them. So I’d rather a bit more
wang bang for my fuck buck next time.
So if you’re reading guys, IT’S MELTING.
SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!!