Friday, December 30, 2011

Happy New Year!


Hey guys, I won't get a chance to blog again until Monday as I'll be enjoying a lovely long weekend with Paul. I am therefore taking the opportunity now to wish every single one of you a Happy New Year! I hope you all have a lot of fun and that 2012 is a great year for us all!

Thursday, December 29, 2011

PANZRAM


A part of me wishes I could have met Carl Panzram…preferably with an inch of steel or reinforced glass between us. He was a dark man—some might say evil—and the world is probably better off without him.

Despite that, I can honestly say I’ve never read about anyone so intriguing. He was a man without emotion, empathy, or reason. He existed only to bring torment to those he felt deserved his wrath. But he was, also, a shattered end result of a broken society. In his youth, he was physically abused by almost every person that was supposed to bring him love, guidance, and attention. Not only that, he was also sexually abused by a pair of derelict men one night in an empty train yard after he had run away from home.

He eventually ended up in a reform school, where, due to the shabby treatment he felt he was receiving, he masturbated and urinated into food meant for the guards and teachers. Also a bit of a “fire bug,” he was notorious for setting fire to whichever establishments were unfortunate to hold him.

The angry youth grew to be an angry man—and even more dangerous. For seemingly no reason, Panzram joined the army, where—though he proudly carried the flag in the parade—he was court-martialed almost immediately for vandalizing military equipment. And if all that wasn't enough, he even broke into the house of Howard Taft, seven years after his presidency, from whom he stole cash and gold. Life continued for Panzram; he spent time in and out of jails and detention centers like most folks take vacations. But all throughout, he was continually mistreated by those in power positions. He was chained to pillars, his arms and legs stretched to painful extremes; he was even placed in a tub of water and methodologically electrocuted.  And it was because of this that whatever thing festering inside Panzram infected his mind—any human semblance within him simply vanished. He had finally decided: since he was unable to hurt those who had hurt him his whole life, he would hurt others, instead. In a mad paradoxical moment, he decided that society's insufficiency in preventing people like Panzram from committing evil acts was the very reason people like Panzram even existed—that there was no karma, no God, and no reason for anything. The world was chaos' playground, and Panzram would gleefully play. This was something he stated in his memoirs, Panzram: A Journal of Murder, a collection of diary entries written by Panzram himself, and pieced together with objective recreations by authors Thomas Gaddis and James Long. Panzram was a murderer, pedophile, rapist, arsonist, robber, con artist, and all around bitter-barn curmudgeon. He killed men and children, felt nothing, and hated everything—including himself.

He states in his memoirs:
“I don’t believe in Man, God, nor Devil. I hate the entire human race, including myself.”
Though the man will never be cited as a positive role model in anyone’s life, one can’t help but lend a little respect to the man’s tenacity. As far as his hatred towards everything in existence went, he was exceedingly unflinching. He did terrible things—deplorable and perverted and sick—but he never made any apologies for who he was. In this day, if someone cracks an off-color joke, or says something crass without realizing their microphone is on, public apologies are then offered, and poor, sympathy-reaching reflections on a misspent childhood are brought up. When Michael Vick was charged with cruelty to animals—with hanging dogs by their legs and slicing their throats—he fell back on the whole “I wasn’t raised any better” defense, instead of him just outright stating his truth: “They’re just dogs and I don’t care. They have no value to me.” But he did the dance society demanded of him—he made apologies and paid his fees and served his time. And now he is an extremely well-paid athlete. Would his life (and finances) currently be the same if he had just told everyone the truth? Of course not. People like Vick memorize these apologetic lines and look forlorn because society demands they do. Carl Panzram—though he hated himself more than people hate their own worst enemies—never faltered in that. He never broke down and he never whined about the injustices he endured in his youth. He never outright said "I blame my family for abusing me and for the institutions for not raising me right." He blamed society, as a whole, altogether. He blamed my ancestors and yours. He blamed the intangible face of The Man, who in his eyes, was responsible for all the wrong in the world. He blamed every living thing that's ever taken a breath. If a surfer gets bit by a shark, he blames the shark—not the ocean. But Panzram did. He merely accepted that those injustices shaped who he became—and since no one person could be blamed, neither could he be for his own actions.

He states in his memoirs:
“When I was sitting there, a little kid about twelve or thirteen years old came bumming around. He was looking for something. He found it, too. I took him out to a gravel pit about one-quarter mile away. I left him there, but first committed sodomy on him and then killed him. His brains were coming out of his ears when I left him, and he will never be any deader.”
There is neither apology nor sick glee present in his words. He merely recounts what he did to the poor child. He makes no excuses, and panders to no easy scapegoat. Arguments could be made that the purpose of his bluntness is to shock—for sensationalistic reasons only—but those making that argument truly do not understand what kind of man Carl Panzram was. He didn’t want to shock you. He wanted to kill you. And he would have, if given the chance.

After a temporary scheme in which Panzram "hired" ten men for assistance upon his recently purchased yacht (bought with stolen cash) and eventually killed them, he was finally charged with murder. Wanting nothing more than to have his life ended, he warned the jury that decided his verdict: “If I live, I’ll execute some more of you.”

He was then sent to Leavenworth, where he was to live out the rest of his days. Upon arriving, he told the warden, “I will kill the first man who bothers me.” That first man turned out to be a guard named Robert Warnke, who Panzram later beat to death with a lead pipe in the laundry room. He was charged with the murder, and in defiance to Kansas State Law—which had previously outlawed capital punishment—he was sentenced to execution by hanging.

When the Society for Abolishment of Capital Punishment caught wind of this sentence and fought to have it overturned, Panzram literally looked through his prison bars at them and said, “I wish you all had one neck…and that I had my hands on it.”

To ensure his state-sanctioned demise, Panzram even went so far as writing letters to President Hoover, explaining that in no way was his death sentence to be overturned, and for no one to intervene in his favor at the zero hour. Not just according to his own wants, but in conjunction with everything society had always preached, he deserved death, and would not let anyone stand in the way of that.

Interestingly, Panzram’s drive towards death was not just due to his own misery in life, but also because he believed justice would not be properly served unless he was dangling at the end of a rope—and this is something he also states in his book several times. If he were to go on sucking air, it would only showcase the weakness of the judicial system. If anyone were to deserve death, it was he—and if that did not happen, then the system was flawed.

He states in his memoirs:
“I have no desire whatever to reform myself. My only desire is to reform people who try to reform me. And I believe that the only way to reform people is to kill 'em.”
On September 5, 1930, Carl Panzram was hung by the neck until dead. His last words were to his executioner: “Hurry it up, you Hoosier Bastard! I could hang a dozen men while you’re fooling around!”

His last will and testament stipulated that his earthly remains be left to a dogcatcher in his native Michigan…and a curse bequeathed to all of mankind (which I'm sure Panzram wrote with a wry smile.)

A film based on the book/Panzram’s life was made in the mid-90s called Killer: A Journal of Murder, starring James Woods as Panzram and Robert Sean Leonerd as Henry Lesser, a guard to whom Panzer spoke, confided, and eventually handed over his journal scribblings that would soon become his book. While the film is not bad in any sense, most of the more lurid details from his exploits are omitted. His crimes against children are mentioned just a single time, and his claim of 1,000 acts of male sodomy is never mentioned at all. Much of Panzram's original writings are repeated by Woods almost verbatim, but so much was excised that the very thing which gave the book its power—Panzer's own voice—wasn't as prevalent in the film; thus, it never had the chance in being as equally harrowing. The filmmakers might have been afraid of making a movie focused on an entirely unlikeable and unrelatable monster,]. If that's the case, why even bother making it into a film in the first place? James Woods, as wonderfully psychotic in the film as he is, ultimately brings humanity to the role as well…which clashes with the image of Carl Panzram brought to life by his memoirs. If the words he wrote are to be believed, there is nothing human about Carl Panzram at all.

He states, rather famously:
“In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and, last but not least, I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things I am not in the least bit sorry. I have no conscience, so that does not bother me.”
Further excerpts from his memoirs (thanks to Serial Killer Central for the transcriptions):
"It is the nature to be deceived very easily by those who wish and have the power and the intelligence to do so. People believe what they want to believe. Truth isn't liked .. Torquemada, chief inquisitor of the Spanish Inquisition, was known as the world's greatest torturer ... I have been to Spain and while there I have visited their museums and big cathedrals where some of those old-time implements were on view. I looked 'em all over. I have read many books which told of the methods then is use. The rack, the wheel, red hot irons to burn out the eyes, pinchers to pull off parts of the body, fire to burn and water to drown ... Everything I have ever seen or read on this subject makes convinced that, though time and methods have changed, men are the same and the actual results are the same ... Torture, pain and agony is a relative thing. When pain reaches a certain point, then it has reached the limit and can be no worse ... The history of mankind goes back only for a few thousand years, but men lived an died on this earth for uncounted thousands of years before the dawn of history as we know it today. Yet in all these thousands of years men have learned little. The men of the world today are doing the same things that their ancestors did ages ago. Men have always had intelligence which has never increased. Only knowledge has kept advancing."
...
"In my life time I have broken every law that was ever made by both man and God. If either had made any more, I should very cheerfully have broken them also. The mere fact that I have done these things is quite sufficient for the average person. Very few people even consider it worthwhile to wonder why I am what I am and do what I do. All that they think is necessary to do is to catch me, try me, convict me and send me to prison for a few years, make life miserable for me while in prison and then turn me loose again. That is the system that is in practice today in this country. The consequences are that anyone and everyone can see crime and lots of it. Those who are sincere in their desire to put down crime are to be pitied for all of their efforts which accomplish so little in the desired direction. They are the ones who are deceived by their own ignorance and by the trickery and greed of others who profit the most by crime. Much depends upon the point of view of the persons who express themselves on the crime question. Those who roar the loudest and are therefore the most heard are the writers, judges, lawyers, and would-be expert criminologists. All of these people make a nice, soft living out of crime. Therefore, they are directly interested in the subject. They don't produce a damn thing. All they do is shoot off their mouths and push a fountain pen. And for doing this they live nice and soft. They wear good clothes, eat the best foods, live in nice homes, have the best of everything the world produces. They have a nice, soft graft, and they know it, too. They are not a lot of chumps like the criminals. Don't think for a minute that they are going around really meaning to do as they say they wish to. Put down crime. Not a chance. There will be no pick and shovel for that sort of people. That's what would happen to them if they really did put down crime. There is two sides to every question. My point of view is just as plausible and a damn sight more probable than all of the hot air that has been published about this question. Others who have expressed their ideas in print on this subject have all been either directly or indirectly interested in receiving some sort of profit or benefit of some kind from what they say or write or do about this crime question. Some have good jobs which they want to keep or perhaps they are trying to get a better one or perhaps they are merely incensed and prejudiced against criminals because they or their friends have been robbed or murdered. I, on the other hand, have not a single thing to gain by writing this. My life and my liberty are forfeited. I cannot gain a single thing in any way for writing this."

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

NINJA CLOWN

 

Watch and learn.

LEVITY






Edinburgh 2011

As most of you know, Paul and I went to Scotland for Halloween. We decided to go there as Paul has always wanted to visit at Halloween and since I've always wanted to go to Scotland it seemed perfect. Plus it was to celebrate my twentieth birthday as well.

But getting out of Belfast proved more difficult than either of us thought. Firstly, I set the metal detector alarm off and had to be frisked. Then I completely forgot that I had perfume in my hand luggage and a scary security woman sent me back through the crowds to put it in a little plastic bag. I then had to walk through the metal detector again and be frisked again by the same woman who couldn't contain her smirk. I was eventually allowed through and as I waited for Paul, I was grabbed by another security person asking me if I'd be willing to submit to a random drugs screening! I could hardly say no could I?! Now seeing as I've watched A LOT of "Nothing to Declare" I knew what she was doing and even though I knew it'd be clear, I was still terrified. She tested my camera for traces of narcotics and when it was clear, she let me go. 

The flight to Edinburgh was relatively short unfortunately. I say unfortunately because I love flying. I love that sensation you get in your stomach when the plane takes off or changes direction. I even love trying to fight the pressure pushing you back into your seat as you take off lol! Yes. I'm a weirdo.

Our first day in Edinburgh was glorious. The sun was out and it wasn't cold at all. Something Paul was a bit disappointed by as he wanted the place to be cold and covered in snow! We spent our first day exploring the Royal Mile and going on a little Scotch Whisky tour which was very entertaining as well as informative. We even got to try some whisky as well as being allowed to keep our whisky glasses as suvenirs! 

The second day was dedicated to exploring Edinburgh Castle which was truly magnificent. The only problem was that because it's built on a hill, it was really blustery! And my hair paid the price...


We also visited the Edinburgh Dungeons and went on a underground tour of the tombs! Both were great tours, the Dungeons weren't that scary just creepy, but the actors were hilarious! The tour guide of the underground tour was also very funny and likeable which immediately put you at ease even though we were in a comfined space. And of course there was an eejit who deliberately nudged a girl making her scream loud enough to wake the dead...

The third day was dedicated to exploring Edinburgh Zoo. I adore zoos and this one was lovely. Unfortunately the weather was a bit dull and most of the animals were sleeping but I still enjoyed it. My illness which was still undiagnosed at this point was starting to take its toll on me though. So much so that I literally stopped dead halfway up a hill as I didn't have the strength to take one more step. Instead I had to sit at a cafe for over an hour just to get my breath back.

The fourth day was dedicated to simply relaxing and exploring the city a bit more. We went shopping and took loads of photographs of local monuments and statues. There were loads! We saw lots of cool sites such as Edinburgh University as well as Holyrood Palace. We also went to the cinema and saw The Lion King in 3D! I regret not having the time to visit the local museums though.

On the fifth day we came home but thankfully we didn't have any trouble getting into Belfast. I guess we'll take anyone! Despite feeling sick, I really enjoyed my trip to Edinburgh as we instantly fell in love with the place. It's such a beautiful city that Paul and I will definitely visit there again - especially now that the zoo has got pandas! 

If you want to check out some photos from our trip, just click here...

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

2011: A Year In Review

JANUARY:

This month is a blank. All I can remember is how it started on New Year's Eve, where Paul and I brought in the new year drinking champagne and watching world's deadliest airports! Was tres awesome!

FEBUARY:

On the 3rd was Paul's birthday and our 3 year anniversary which was spent at a gorgeous hotel in the city of Londonderry. We shopped all day then had a beautiful meal in our room curtesy of room service. We also had a right giggle at our misfortune of going to see "HereAfter" which turned out to be the most boring film ever made! Valentine's Day was also a lot of fun as a lot of chocolate was consumed!

MARCH:

As I was still in college, I remember starting a new placement at a special educational needs school and being terrified. Everything turned out okay though as I got to work with the most loveliest of boys. They were hilarious and I still miss them.

I also started applying for university.

APRIL:

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I started to feel more confident in myself. I think this has something to do with the decision I made to be more assertive. Or at least try to be.

MAY:

I left the special educational needs school as I had all my required hours. I do regret not being able to say goodbye to my favourite boy in the class though as he was on holiday during my last day.

I also finished all my college coursework which meant that I had finished college a month early. And with placement finished too, I had an extra month off to do nothing whilst everyone else still had to go to class. Frigging awesome!

I also started blogging again after deleting my old blog in 2010

JUNE:

Had this entire month off due to finishing all my coursework early!

JULY:

The summer holidays had officially started but I was already scunnered as I'd already been off a month. I discovered that I passed my National Diploma in Children's Care, Learning and Development with three distinctions - the highest mark possible. I was a very happy bunny as it meant all my hard work had paid off! 

I started to feel sick all the time too. I had very little strength and my appetite was slowly disappearing. Though I did start drawing again.

AUGUST:

I learnt that I was accepted into the University of Ulster and that I'll be starting my Psychology course in September! I was both excited and scared about this. It was a big step and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to cope or not. 

I also attended my first ever wedding with Paul who was Best Man. It was a lovely if slightly disorganised wedding but still loads of fun!

SEPTEMBER:

At the end of September, I started university and it was grand! I met a few nice people and easily found my way around the campus. I did feel out of breath a lot though but I put that down to being unfit...

I also took the plunge and bought purple glasses!

OCTOBER:

On the 3rd of October I turned twenty which was celebrated with a trip to Edinburgh at Halloween. It was an awesome trip, marred only by the fact that it was now obvious that something was seriously wrong with me. I heaved at the sight of food, was incredibly weak and was basically surviving on wine gums...

NOVEMBER:

After a colonoscopy, I was diagnosed with Inflammation of the Colon and given a hearty dose of steriods. My appetite improved immediately! Much to the delight of Paul and my parents. I also gave my first ever presentation and practical report at university - both of which scared the crap out of me! 

I attended another wedding, this time it was Paul's sister getting married.

I also started getting into the festive spirit as well as joining Twitter!

DECEMBER:

After passing all my class tests, I completed my first semester of university and look set to start my second in January when I'll find out the results of my practical report and presentation. Though finishing university for the holidays did have it's down side when I nearly died...

For Christmas, I got the most amazing presents as well as being incredibly happy that Paul loved his! And I've only just finished the dose of steriods and my appetite is already decreasing. I've yet to decide if this is a good thing or not.

EXTRA:

In 2011, Paul and I also managed to see three comedians LIVE: Alan Carr, Tommy Tiernan and Stephan Merchant. We were also meant to see Dave Gorman but that got postponed due to the strike in November. We also explored the Continental Christmas Market as well enjoying lovely days out at the beach and local forests.

2011 saw my blog gain 100+ followers which is something that my old blog never achieved. I also took the plunge and made two vlogs which revealed to you my weird Irish/American accent. I also joined The Great Postcard Campaign and have been receiving gorgeous postcards from around the world...

And most heart-breaking of all, 2011 saw the end of Harry Potter...

Goodbye 2011, we had our ups and downs but we made it til the end. Here's to a great 2012!


Ick Factor

Has anyone ever said anything to you that has completely ruined something for you?


I'm aware that that sentence probably makes no sense so instead I'll move swiftly on to my example...

Years ago, Leona Lewis released a song called "Bleeding Love". I do not like this song but I admit that the chorus is quite catchy. An old friend of mine completely ruined this song for me however with one tiny little comment....

Me: "What do you think of Leona Lewis's new song?"
Sally: "I don't like it, it's like she's singing about her period"
Me: "Ewww!"

So yeah, thanks Sally! I cannot listen to that song anymore without thinking of what she said...


Do you guys have any similar stories? Or did I just keep really weird company?

Monday, December 26, 2011

Wishlist #2


Left to Right:

Love Hearts and Crosses: Big Owl Necklace: £7.50
Love Hearts and Crosses: Mini Heart Pocket Watch: £18:00
Love Hearts and Crosses: Vintage Silver Foxy: £18:00

Christmas Haul!

This year I was thoroughly spoilt rotten by my loved ones! And being the dutiful blogger that I am, I took photos of every present I got for your viewing pleasure...


A bonsai tree, a dragon cuddly toy, Katy Perry's Purr perfume, Professor Layton & The Lost Future, Professor Layton & The Spectre's Call and two fairy figurines...


Hello Kitty nail polish & lip gloss, a manicure set, three beaded necklaces, a make-up brush set, a Peacocks gift voucher and a heart bracelet...


Milktray, Cadbury's buttons, Thorntons and Afer Eights...


£100 and a compact mirror...


Stardust DVD and a sexy basque...


Gok Wan and Katy Perry body lotion and bath essence...


The Harry Potter limited edition boxset, the Harry Potter complete film guide and the golden snitch necklace that I've wanted for ages...


And finally, a bizarre little pet firefly...

I adore all my presents, I hope you all loved yours too!


Saturday, December 24, 2011

Merry Christmas!


Hey guys, I hope everyone is having a wonderful Christmas Eve and that your Christmas Day is truly magical tomorrow! I hope Santa brings you everything you've asked for and more! I'll be back on Boxing Day to share all my Christmas goodies with you!

P.s don't forget to eat your weight in turkey and sweets lol!

Friday, December 23, 2011

I ♥ Lapland

Seeing as it's Christmas, time for a festive destination! Here are all the reasons why I'd love to visit Lapland...



The beautiful snowy landscape...


Reindeer sleigh rides...


Staying in a cosy log cabin...




The Northern Lights


Sleigh dog rides


And of course, Santa's Grotto


SHITTY FLICKS: SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT: PART 2

Shitty Flicks is an ongoing column that celebrates the most hilariously incompetent, amusingly pedestrian, and mind-bogglingly stupid movies ever made by people with a bit of money, some prior porn-directing experience, and no clue whatsoever. It is here you will find unrestrained joy in movies meant to terrify and thrill, but instead poke at your funny bone with their weird, mutant camp-girl penis. 

WARNING: I tend to give away major plot points and twist endings in my reviews because, whatever. Shut up.


The first Silent Night, Deadly Night is an unremarkable, yet fun and unapologetically gimmicky slasher movie whose late-1980s presence at theaters was very brief; lame parents with lame ideals protested the movie’s depiction of a killer Santa offing “naughty” people and had the movie successfully banned from all theaters. The victorious parents then turned their protesting to the local gay (probably). For a long time, SNDN was a mirage until it was released on VHS years later and became a cult favorite.

Silent Night, Deadly Night isn’t groundbreaking in any way, and compared to today’s standards, where we’re able to see testicles ripped off a man and fed to wild dogs in theatrical films (preceded by commercials for Fanta), the idea of a man in a Santa costume offing people doesn’t just pale in comparison—it’s become its own punchline.

A few years down the road, morons decided that Silent Night, Deadly Night—the movie that no one saw—needed a sequel, anyway. And with an entire first film from which to haphazardly pluck footage, a lazy and monotonous wrap-around story was written so audiences could see the original movie that disappeared from theaters, but in a new way.

Our story begins on Christmas Eve with Ricky, a young man currently residing in a mental institution. He smokes, casts hard glares, and makes black men nervous.

Dr. Bloom, a man who looks eerily similar to the dad from "7th Heaven," sets up his tape recorder and introduces himself.

“Fuck off, doc,” Ricky snarls, and with this first line, the acting for the movie is already pitiful.

“Who killed your parents, Ricky?” Dr. Bloom asks.

Ricky’s eyebrows dance all over his face as he smiles and answers: “Santa Claus.”

And we hit our first flashback.

"Say, Ricky...I don't mean to sound jive, but, gee whiz,
why not pray to Christ?"

Ricky, merely a baby in a car seat, and his older brother, Billy, are on their way to visit the kids’ grandfather. Billy, who is disgustingly adorable, looks precious and asks kid-like questions about Santa Claus. The parents play along until they come across Santa Claus himself in the middle of the road. Santa waves the car down, and when they pull up next to him, he pulls out a gun and shoots Dad in the face. Billy runs off into the bushes as Santa Claus makes Mommy’s boobs tumble out of her sweater. Then, for good measure, he cuts her throat. Ricky bawls in the car as Billy loses his shit in more ways than poop.

The boys are shipped off to an orphanage, where Billy can’t help but get himself into trouble by drawing pictures of an evil Santa, and I can’t help but notice that Billy goes from being an adorable five-year-old to a slightly older boy who looks like his face was fucked by a lawnmower.

Billy is carefully watched over by two nuns: Mother Superior, whose idea of growth and development is to dispense justice, and Sister Mary, who fears that Billy’s mind has been ass-fucked by the massacre of Christmas past.

The boy is punished for his bad drawing of Santa, but Sister Mary frees him from his room and coerces him to go outside and mingle with the other children. On the way there, Billy hears fucking, so he does a bit of spying through a keyhole. He sees tits, freaks out, and fleas. Mother Superior later catches up to Billy outside and tells the boy that what he witnessed was naughty. She tells him that people like that must be punished—that “punishment is absolute.” Then she whips him on the ass with his belt, even though he didn’t do anything.

“Do you dream, Ricky?” Dr. Bloom asks.

Ricky turns and glares. “I DON’T SLEEP.”

Well then.

Billy’s time at the orphanage isn’t the best time anyone’s ever had. Not only does Mother Superior constantly pick on him, the other children inexplicably tie him up at night and beat him with stuff, a la Full Metal Jacket. On Christmas Day, Mother Superior forces Billy to confront his demons and sit on a visiting Santa’s lap. Well, Billy cold-clocks Santa with an admirable right hook, sending Santa sailing to the floor.

Say what you will about Paul Walker, but he's always ready to party.

When Billy turns 18, he leaves the orphanage and works at a job that Mother Superior found for him: Santa Claus at a local toy store. Yeah, she's a dickhead like that.

Billy threatens each child that sits atop his lap, and he handles them with great zest: “You’re being naughty. I don’t give toys to naughty children. I punish them. Severely.”

Later that night at the employee Christmas party, Billy smells sex, and he follows two employees to the warehouse where he spots another tit.

“Naughty!” Billy screams, strangling one of them with a string of Christmas blinkies. “Punishment good!” he shrieks, stabbing the other in the stomach.

The store manager, hearing the disturbance, enters the warehouse and immediately has his head caved in by a claw hammer.

That Billy works fast!

He then grabs a bow 'n' arrow and shoots the last employee: an old bitty woman who attempts to smash the front windows of the store and flee.

We flash forward again to even more titters, where Billy amusingly dispenses justice to a girl with a pair of deer antlers before strangling a dude and tossing him out the window.

Later, while fleeing from the cops, Billy stumbles across two sledders who are just asking for it. He takes their heads and leaves, having fulfilled his expectations for this scene.

Thanks to the help of Sister Mary, the cops make it to the orphanage before Billy does. A cop dashes out of his truck, takes aim at a Santa Claus reaching out to the children, and shoots him.

“One problem,” Ricky says. “It was Old Man Kelsey, the janitor" (although according to the first film, it was actually Father O’Brien).

Billy unsurprisingly pops up and barely farts out “punish!” before killing the cop. He also kills a snowman, because my god, Billy really hates Christmas.

A stupid kid unlocks the door and lets Billy in as Mother Superior stands her ground. “There is no Santa Claus!” she bellows, as Billy raises his axe. Another cop shows up just in time and they’re finally able to shoot the real Santa. (Well, you know.)

“You’re safe now,” Billy says to the kids. “Santa Claus is gone.” And he dies right in front of Ricky, who then says, “naughty.”

Ricky continues his story, which is finally new material.

Soon after the massacre at the orphanage, Ricky is adopted by a Jewish couple who obviously don’t celebrate Christmas. Out on the street, Ricky’s simmering madness flares at the sight of a red drape in a store window, as it reminds him of Santa’s suit.

Five years later, Ricky’s stepdad dies, leaving just Ricky and his mother. After the funeral, he wanders off to be alone where he, just like his brother, effortlessly stumbles across breasts.

“I never told anyone this before, but, HERE IT COMES!” Ricky promises directly to the camera, his eyebrows quivering.

He creepily watches the couple for a few minutes until the man becomes a bit demanding. He slaps her and goes to his jeep for some more beer. Ricky figures he’ll do a solid for the poor girl, and so he drives the jeep over the man, over and over, until it becomes ridiculous.

“Thank you,” the girl stammers, not at all afraid or upset, and stumbles off into the woods.

RICKY FACE # 1: Angry + Found Some Money

Dr. Bloom scrawls

RED CAR!

in his notebook.

“Good point!” Ricky says, spying over his shoulder.

“My old lady couldn’t afford to send me to college,” Ricky bitches. “So I got a JOB instead!” The amount of disdain present in this statement either reeks of genuine disgust or severely tepid acting.

Dr. Bloom gears up for another round of Ricky’s over-acting, but Ricky promises him, “You’ll like this next part, Doc. It was like a squirrel getting its nuts squeezed.”

During this job, Ricky spies one man accosting another over some owed money in a back alley while taking out some garbage. The man after the money takes out a red handkerchief and wipes his face, thus setting off Ricky’s rage. He finds a random umbrella in a trash pile and runs it through the man, snarling “naughty” and opening up the umbrella to punctuate this newest murder.

Dr. Bloom whips out a photo and throws it across the desk. “Who is this?” he asks.

Ricky turns and sees the photo of a reasonably attractive blond, a former flame of his. “Jennifer. She was a knock-out. I never wanted to lose her.”

And so we flashback again so we can meet Jennifer, who has a laughable car accident with our unfortunate lead, and the two kids immediately rub skin. After a tepid love scene, comprised only of side-boob, they go to the cinema to see a film. That film? The first Silent Night, Deadly Night.

Why—oh.

The movie begins, but a rowdy movie-goer in the back row gets on Ricky’s nerves.

“Faggot!” the rowdy man shouts at Ricky.

“Well, we know that’s not true,” Jennifer retorts, as if Ricky might have actually been worried about his sexuality for a moment.

“What’s this movie about, anyway?” Ricky asks.

“Oh, it’s great. It’s about a guy who dresses up as Santa Claus and kills people.”

“What?!” Ricky shrieks and quickly becomes enraged.

Why would you go see a fucking movie without knowing what it is, Ricky, you dickhead?

Ricky then beats the living shit out of the rowdy man.

After the cancellation of Arrested Development,
Executive Producer Ron Howard just couldn't deal.

In his absence, one of Jennifer’s previous lovers, Chip, an extremely unnatural blond fellow who presents himself as the generic cocksure rich boy we all know doesn’t have much time left on Earth.

The next day, while taking a walk, Ricky and Jennifer run afoul of Chip, who immediately oozes with douchebag residue. Chip acts the cock, makes a reference to his “red” car to set up his death, and then has his face melted with the aid of a car battery.

Jennifer shrieks at Ricky that she hates him and tries to flee, but Ricky makes quick work of her with a car antenna.

“Uh oh!” she unrealistically yells before meeting Elvis.

And thus begins the best sequence ever shot for a movie that starred Ricky as the lead.

A cop rushes in, gun in hand, to take care of the murderous Ricky, but he soon has his own brains blown out with a quick flick of Ricky’s wrist.

Now armed with the cop's gun, Ricky strolls down the street, shooting a man who comes out of his house, demanding to know why all the noise. “Motherfucker,” Ricky mutters, and laughs.

He then spots a hapless man putting out cans of trash.

“GARBAGE DAY!” Ricky shouts, shooting him in super cool slow motion.

Ricky continues his stroll down the street, and after allowing a moment to capture the entire film crew in the shot...


...he meets a little girl with a red ribbon in her hair. Despite the red, he lets her go, even smiling at her. And since the movie is making up its own rules, Ricky figures he’ll shoot randomly at a car coming at him until it overturns, crashes, and explodes. In what is actually a legitimately cool stunt, and in a single take, the car flips and narrowly avoids hitting Ricky by seriously only a few inches, had it not been for a quick turn of his body.

Ricky giggles in his typical Ricky self and then continues on with the massacre, or at least tries to. But alas, his murdering was not meant to be. Ricky eventually hits a road block of cops and tries to turn the gun on himself. A look of disappointment crosses his face when he is greeted with an empty click.

"JOKES AND DREAMS COME FROM MY IDEA BALL."

Ricky, it seems, is done reminiscing, since at some point during this story he has opted to murder Dr. Bloom, yet keep talking, anyway. He then flees the hospital to see to some unfinished business… to rent Silent Night, Deadly Night.

Or...

Sister Mary tells the cops that Ricky is most likely going after Mother Superior, now wheelchair-bound thanks to a stroke and living in isolation.

Ricky finally dons a Santa suit for the first and only time in this movie, but sans beard, and calls Mother Superior to let her know “Santa’s back.”

She nervously hangs up and wheels her puny body over to the TV and watches the Christmas parade and babbles typical Christian “Bah, blasphemy!” remarks at the big balloon animals on the screen.

Not too long after, Ricky begins to chop his way through Mother Superior’s front door (which is unsubtly numbered 666) and chases her from one room to the next, smashing doors and delivering really bad one-liners.

RICKY FACE # 2: Angry + Lemons

Mother Superior, who is clearly played by a different actress than the woman in the first movie's footage, wears prosthetic scars on her face that are allegedly caused by strokes. She gets booted down the steps, somehow survives, and escapes in yet another wheelchair.

She grabs a knife from the kitchen and then suddenly grows a pair of nun balls. “You must be punished,” she screams. “You are being very, very naughty!”

“Naughty this!” Ricky nonsensically screams before delivering an admittedly satisfying, yet off-screen blow to Mother Superior’s nun head.

The cops enter and spy Mother Superior sitting motionless, her back to them. I bet you a sawbuck she’s just aces.

A cop gently shakes her and her head falls off a very cleanly cut neck, even though Ricky’s ax thrust was a downward blow. Sister Mary (who is there for some reason) screams at the head and falls down and almost becomes Ricky’s next victim.

The cops shoot Ricky, who is so insane at this point that he can't even feel bullets. One more blow to the chest does the trick, however, and sends Ricky flying through a glass patio door.

“He’s gone, sister. It’s over,” says the cop.

And then Ricky’s eyes open as Sister Mary screams at a head.

Please, no head jokes. A real nun has died.

Ricky further continues his adventures in Silent Night, Deadly Night 3, where he is brought back to life by a mad scientist, and suddenly played by Bill Moseley.

God bless us, everyone.