Shitty Movie Night

I Come In Peace

Donkey: As this is our second dance with the master of swagger, brawn, and wooden acting known as Dolph Lundgren, we find ourselves clenching both our tasty beverages and our bowels just a little bit harder than normal, preparing for the spectacle that is about to unfold. To quote Forest Gump, having a man of Dolph’s caliber attached to your film is “like a box of chocolates: you never know what you’re gonna get…until he pops out of that box of chocolates and smashes your fucking face through your colon”.

They Live

Donkey: As so many of the finest tales are ought to do, our film this week begins with a lone figure making his way into a city, strolling casually down a set of train tracks. We don’t know who his is or where he came from, but the music playing during the scene coupled with the pack over his shoulders tells us that he’s down on his luck, which therefore naturally means that it’s a safe bet that this unassuming drifter is going to be some manner of champion who eventually saves us all. So who is he? Richard Kimball? Bill Bixby? The Littlest Hobo? Nay: Rowdy Roddy Piper.

Welcome To Our Nightmare

For the last two years, three brave men have walked the thin line between life and death, sanity and insanity, Black Cherry French Vanilla Pepsi Jazz and Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper. They have soared with the angels, and huddled below the earth with demons. They have fought alongside giant robots with hydraulic fists, and driven go-karts in an attempt to learn the ins and outs of back alley illegal street racing. They have done what you could not, what you would not, do. They are on a mission, one that will push them to the very limits of their physical, intellectual and emotional endurance.

They watch shitty movies, and now, for the first time, their stories will be recounted here.

Prepare yourself diligently for what is to come, and beware, for here be dragons.