Obviously, now we’ve passed our third year, and I’ve done the roundup of things we’ve been up to, it’s also time to announce the nomination process for the Golden Changs is open.
This prestigious award carries absolutely no cash prize whatsoever, but is a far more open, honest and, let’s fucking face it, prestigious award than the Oscars.
Well, due to producer intransigence we’re running extremely late this time. We made the mistake of allowing Don “Fat Cunt” Murphy to produce, and next thing we knew we were in protracted contract wranglings. Murphy wanted a production rider consisting of the following:
- 74 Donuts
- Three blind Albanian hookers, ideally without a sense of smell
- An industrial size tub of chocolate ice-cream
- An inflatable sex doll in the shape of a sheep
- A crate of Newcastle Brown Ale
- A gaggle of midgets, assorted race and gender
- A flunky to follow him around saying “Yes Don, you are the best, and so sexy with it” when required
- The disabled access to the temple improved to allow for his Rascal
- 2 Kilos of Peruvian marching powder
- A goldfish bowl full of M&M’s but no green ones
- A basket of assorted fruit
And that was just the frigging start of it. Anyway, I wasn’t having this, so told the fat cunt that there was no way I was going to improve the disabled access to Walter’s convenience store to get him and his fucking “mobility aid” in. Not only would this be hugely expensive, but he’d stink out the fresh food section forever. This, needless to say, was not great news for the disgusting gelatinous blob. Faster than you can say “Bo-SHUDDAH” , he went on a frenzied rampage and ate all the catering for the day, the wardrobe department and the monkey butler we use to hand out the awards. Well, that was enough, so I fired the fat cunt, and told him to take Chris Tucker with him. So Droid is producing this year, and I’m on hosting detail again. We did keep the coke, though.
*sniff* So with no further ado, the winner’s are…
Break out the red carpet, dust down your party gear, crack open the booze, and score as many class A’s as you can, because it’s now time for 2011’s annual Golden Changs. This year’s is a bit late, as we had some difficulties with the producer (we wouldn’t let him put pre-0p transexual hookers on expenses) and the host (who quit because he’s best buddies with the producer) although I’m still hopeful we can get Don “Fat cunt” Murphy. Read More…
Because I’m in what could charitably be described as an evil fucking mood today, I’m postponing the planned review of Starship Troopers. Instead, I’m going to put up 10 of the biggest, most unpleasant, most obnoxious cunts in the history of cinema. I’m going to try to not hit the obvious nominees here and instead provide a good cross section of the obnoxious, the weaselly, and the base characters that populate cinema.
So buckle up, this one’s going to be rough.
Sometimes I’m my own worst enemy.
I decided to review one hopefully underexposed “top” horror film from every year for my Post Millennial Trauma section. As a result, I’ve waded through an enormous amount of schlocky crap from the more fallow years of the 21st Century hoping against hope to find something that would fit the bill. The vast majority of the films that I inflicted on myself are absolutely terrible and not even worth comment (Bloody Mary), being a hateful combination of inept, uninspired and frankly fucking boring. I toyed with whether or not to even bother writing this review, and in the end have decided to for two reasons: it’s got Dee Wallace Stone in it, and we all like her, and more importantly, the writer/ director actually started out writing for Fangoria. If that hack can produce such an obvious piece of Orang of Doom worthy shit then surely us good Changians must be able to raise the funding for the eagerly awaited masterpiece that is Astrodykes v Werewolves on the Moon.
After a long and arduous selection process and a completely open transparent voting system, it’s finally time to see who wins the coveted Golden Graboid. I did hire Johnny Vegas (sorry all I could afford) to present these, but unfortunately he’s busy throwing up in the bathroom, so I’ve got to step in. Read More…