I've been giving myself a couple days off after that July 1 deadline gridlock. This means that I've been limiting my time on the computer unless the business has been urgent. Of course, now that I'm going to be receiving a line edit in the mail today, "time off" is over.
However, I closed out in grand style last night by watching a "TCM underground" flick. The "underground" label is funny because tons of people have already watched this stupendously bizzare film: FASTER, PUSSYCAT! KILL! KILL!, a movie with the best title ever.
This messed-up little gem was released in the mid-sixties in pukey black-and-white, and it's so strange that it's AWESOME. Basically, the story centers around three devil-spawn go-go dancers who like to race through the desert in their sweet cars and create **it-storms of trouble for anyone who is unfortunate enough to meet them. The leader is a Vampira-looking chick with a voluptuous figure showcased in a boob-blasting bodice and tight black pants. The second is Vampira's Italian-girl lover. The third is a white-wardrobed blonde who just likes to have fun. Guess which one dies first?
Anyway, these terrors are cavorting in the desert when they encounter these two hilarious squares: a Fabian clone wearing bermuda shorts and knee socks who drives a "cool car" and his bathing-suit wearing idiot of a girlfriend. The guy serves as a target for Vampira's evil karate death chops (I kid you not.) and the girl becomes a captive. Then the group goes to this remote ranch where three men live and the chicks proceed to cause a **it-storm there, too.
That's the plot. Or something. It's one of those odd movies where one thing is happening and you think you understand what's going on but, all of a sudden, something else is happening and it makes no sense whatsoever. However, it's so darned funny that you roll with it.
And the dialogue? Is AWESOME. Where else are you going to get a blonde go-go dancer yelling something like: "You better straighten your tie, Samson, or Papa'll spank you!"
And even better is the fact that every line seems to have been written with an exclamation point attached, just like a Z-grade issue of COSMOPOLITAN.
Believe it or not, I got inspired by FASTER, PUSSYCAT! KILL! KILL! (and I'm going to write that title as many times as I can because of its grand AWESOMENESS). I would love to write a B-movie book with a go-go dancer heroine. Maybe that can be my next Blaze.
In the meantime, love your weekend, you all.