Tuesday, November 27, 2007

The True 'Spirit' of the Care Bears

Written by Dave Nalle
Published April 01, 2005

When you think of the Care Bears, do you think of them as nothing more than annoying characters in an overly preachy children's cartoon? Or do you find them vaguely unsettling, perhaps because your inner eye can sense some of the truth behind these chubby brightly colored 'friends' - the truth of Voodoo masquerading as children's entertainment... Read more at Ectoplasm Soup.

Source: Blogcritics

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Skull-A-Day Braincase XVIII

Braincase XVIII is super cool as always, and features 3 skulls I found in my internet travels. Including a freaky skully spider from Justin.

Neatorama

Kipling WestEXMK.net


Happy Thanksgiving!

It's the American Thanksgiving today. I wish everyone, here, there and everywhere a very Happy Thanksgiving! Thank you all for reading along and visiting this site.

funny pictures
moar funny pictures

funny pictures
moar funny pictures

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Upcoming stuff

Too long without posting...

Justin wants you nice people to join up with his forum,
http://exmk.net/forum/.

I'll fix the labels sometime soon too. And I'm thinking of changing the font to COURIER. I just love the typewriter/vintage look.

New links will be added. The link list will be sorted as well.

And, as a reminder, you're welcome to add me on Myspace, where I'm listed as
Regan Karloff. Or whatever suits me that day. In general, I don't care for Myspace. It's addictive and not very useful. But not without it's good points. It's the only place where I can reach some friends. I was looking for someone in particular on the internet with no luck in finding a place to email them. They found me through Myspace. Pretty cool.

Justin has added some awesome high quality pictures to the EXMK gallery; classic Hollywood stars and movies.

More soon!

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

They're coming to get you, Barbra...

I thought I was done. 2 pumpkins were too old to use. I found another. I don't rememember it being there before. It's evil. I did the last one yesterday. It was in perfect condition. Surprisingly fresh. I did it, was pleased, walked into the other room and found 1 last pumpkin. Still not cave-in icky. If I put it off it will get icky and I'll be sorry come winter when I wanna carve something. I'll end up doing it. If I find another, I quit. No, I couldn't. For this is the effect of Halloween 24/7.

Here's a fun site. Just what it appears to be.
Moviedeaths.com

Friday, November 2, 2007

Hallowe'en in a Suburb by H P Lovecraft

The steeples are white in the wild moonlight,
And the trees have a silver glare;
Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly,
And the harpies of upper air,
That flutter and laugh and stare.

For the village dead to the moon outspread
Never shone in the sunset's gleam,
But grew out of the deep that the dead years keep
Where the rivers of madness stream
Down the gulfs to a pit of dream.

A chill wind weaves through the rows of sheaves
In the meadows that shimmer pale,
And comes to twine where the headstones shine
And the ghouls of the churchyard wail
For harvests that fly and fail.

Not a breath of the strange grey gods of change
That tore from the past its own
Can quicken this hour, when a spectral power
Spreads sleep o'er the cosmic throne,
And looses the vast unknown.

So here again stretch the vale and plain
That moons long-forgotten saw,
And the dead leap gay in the pallid ray,
Sprung out of the tomb's black maw
To shake all the world with awe.

And all that the morn shall greet forlorn,
The ugliness and the pest
Of rows where thick rise the stones and brick,
Shall some day be with the rest,
And brood with the shades unblest.

Then wild in the dark let the lemurs bark,
And the leprous spires ascend;
For new and old alike in the fold
Of horror and death are penned,
For the hounds of Time to rend.

Hellow

3 pumpkins down, 4 to go. Only 1 was too rotten to do anything with. So far I've got a moulding Christopher Lee, a tipsy Boris as The Monster and Kitteh & Pip.