A while back I had a job that I once really liked and figured I’d work there until I retired and then that company got bought and it went downhill and then that company got bought and it got worse and they laid off 20,000 people and I was one of them and there went my 15 years there thanks for nothing up yours go sit on it and what totally sucked from all of that is that for 13 years I had a very niche job where basically i worked with telephone numbers. And I don’t mean I worked with them like they were my coworkers and we took smoke breaks and shared staplers but I made sure they worked for people and that they were reported on correctly to the government of the country I live in. So when my job ended I was stuck in this uncomfortable hole because you can’t just look in the want ads n the newspaper and get a job handling telephone numbers so I took a contractor assignment in a place 1500 miles from where I live and commuted there by plane almost every week for a year and a half and I hated almost every minute of it. Typically on the flight back I would be depressed and drink a lot and watch a movie on my iPad and one time I watched something called Blood Orgy at Beaver Lake and it was a zero budget thing and it made me happy so I was willing to try Terror at Blood Fart Lake and hope to come across some sort of mild win here for independent film even though I wasn’t necessarily depressed and I don’t drink like that any more. So let’s see how I did here.

First I’d like to point out that this had one of the most irritating characters I’ve ever run across. The character’s name is Gwen and I’m not familiar with any of the actresses other works but she played some sort of loud and annoying flapper (truly) with a weird and poor Katherine Hepburn accent and she talked like she was from the 30s and she’d never shut up and was always exiting the stage so to speak with her hands all palms up and jiggling around and it kept going on and on and I hated her so much. I have no idea if the low budget indie’s script called for that kind of method or she just brought that to the table on her own or they found her at the local scene outside the lake in town and were like “hey you wanna be in my horror movie?” and she was all “yeah, seeeee. I just love making talkies, see? Back when we was making pictures in Hollyweird (wink wink) I used to make pictchas all over Orson Welles’ balls see you know he always liked ‘em blue HA CHA CHA CHA CHA” (exit stage right). Yuck.

And she was hard to get over because she was consistently there but I hoped and tried and while all of that was going on we were treated to a guy in a big fake wig and mustache like Yosemite Sam. I’m not really sure why these two actors went method like this but big mustache wig guy is always yelling and pointing and talking about sex and pissing in a car’s gas tank and fucking the martial arts lady and jizzing everywhere and running around and talking to himself and he was on his way to the top of the “god damn man won’t you shut up” but his stuff did have a little humor to it and even a little purpose unlike flapper “please please be quiet” lady. Yes there’s a martial arts lady who came here to kick ass for revenge and a guy who makes rock and roll and movie tee shirts for a living and the irritable stoned guy and an imbecile and then of course the bad guy who wears kind of a filthy scarecrow burlap sack thing and does dances after he kills people with corn cobs. Tweedly tweedly tweedly dink go the harpsichords as he totters off leaving a guy with a corncob up his butt for dead. There’s also a guy that calls himself Hambone and talks about himself and his giant hambone dick.

At this point the brave and adventurous reader might think I’m make all that up but I’m not. If I were to make something up or not remember things correctly or see things from a different perspective it might go something like this:

Inside Hambone’s cabin there at Blood Fart Lake everyone spends a lot of time talking -mostly about art and who’s gonna boink who – and probably mostly to add run time with incessant dialogue since there wasn’t much else to do with no budget and all of their money spent on ears of corn. One if the many many times the camera switches to a shot of someone talking with their back facing a particular wall, we can see there are a bunch of pictures hung up there, obviously by the family that rented the place out so these avant garde filmmakers could go in and go some cinema. Or maybe it was their grandparents lake house who knows but it’s true this is shot on some old digital format so it’s maybe 480p but my eyes kept looking at one particular picture hanging in the background. Since we’re all about excellence in reporting and are consistent winners of prestigious award for journalism and arts, we commissioned our R & D team to investigate and uncover just what was going on in the horribly small and grainy picture and what they uncovered is nothing more than – well – sphincter pucker factor nine so be warned:

With that astonishing development unfolding, a great effort was made on our part here at the Eric Undead Records and Arcanum Department. After exhaustive research we discovered that Terror at Blood Fart Lake wasn’t just some trashy shot on video home movie but instead a lesson on humanity’s history in the region and a cautionary tale on how to avoid our past mistakes.

You see, if we check the records, because of course we did, in the middle of the 16th century the Cossacks had moved a large group of their people to this settlement on the other side of the globe where they could live peacefully and do their worshipping and farming and missionary style coupling and the normal things peaceful and tacit people do. According to the record, a few years after their arrival, they were set upon and went to war with “creatures from the waters” in what they called the: War of the Chondrichthyes or in the original Russian: “Война хрящевых рыб” as we see written on their ancient and priceless artifacts that we have here, sitting unprotected on our desks at the Eric Undead HQ.

The historians tell us there were thirty years of hard war, genocides and famines until the last of the surviving descendants of both species constructed a truce during the Holocephalans Summit of 1613 where it was agreed upon that the “unscaled hominids would provide porcine in exchange for isolation on the landes” as the water dwelling citizens had become addicted to pork after the Great Hog Robbery of 1548. Thus we can easily put together the parallels between the idiot calling himself hambone and dragged into the water by a mutilated boy in a burlap mask to the hysterical fears of breaking the truce. Or as the Cossacks would write: “we must provide the perverted and barbaric water dwelling demons one leg of ham per day to keep them sedated or they promise to interrupt our peace on land again and steal away with the last of our daughters as they have acquired a insatiable hunger for both”.

We could further trace the warnings of the film as they include the horrifying and grotesque flapper lady which surely coincides with the Vir Marinus Uprising of 1939 or even the Pisciformis Depravatus Syndrome local teenage males seem to get during certain periods of spring when corn stalks mold and many crawl around on all fours with ears of corn in their anuses.

Well, my editor says this post is getting long and The Commission On Curt Knowledge will be paying me a visit if I don’t wrap it up, so I’ll need to close things down because it’s also time to drink beer and watch baseball where I’m at but not when this posts because I don’t drink in the mornings anymore.

FILED UNDER: THIS MOVIE WAS OK I GUESS BUT THAT ONE LADY REALLY IRRITATED ME TO NO END BUT I DID LIKE THE ONE LADY THE LOVE INTEREST LADY EVEN THOUGH SHE HAD TO SUFFER THE I JUST SHIT MY SWIMSUIT LINE WHICH PROBABLY COMES WITH THE TERRITORY WITH A MOVIE OF THIS TYPE