My House Walk-Through

Welcome to Today’s FYB Post featuring MY HOUSE WALK-THROUGH by the Talented and Allusive nana825763 (also known as PiroPito)  was Who made Internet famous with His Infamous Video “User 666” (which We also have Posted here in the Strange and Disturbed Video Category) which is still making People Uneasy to this Day. There isn’t a Whole Hell of A lot Biography Wise Pertaining to nana825763 and He Never Reveals His Face. His Videos are Typically of the Horror Genre, and Tend to be Extremely Unsettling.

Synopsis: The Narrator (Subtitle Warning, but Not to Worry they’ve been Translated into English) Wonders around Disoriented While Giving a Tour of His Home where He Lives with His Grandparents. The House is a Hellhole everything is Rotting or Decaying such as the Ceiling for Example, and Every Surface/Wall/Floor/Ceiling is Coated in Filth and Grime. The House is Decaying and Dilapidated there’s an Abundant amount of Mouse Shit on the Floor as well as Rat Nests in the Attic among Other Things.

The Sequences are Repetitive to a Degree during the Tour, BUT if You’re Paying Attention You’ll see Subtle Changes in the Dialogue, Additional Information is Added in, and the Creepy Factor Slowly Builds More and More Through Out the 12 Minutes of Madness that are MY HOUSE WALK-THROUGH.

Enjoy.

Thanks For Watching,

  Presented By Les Sober

Short Horror Film Friday: THE DOLLMAKER

Welcome to this Week’s Short Horror Film Friday featuring THE DOLLMAKER” Directed by Al Lougher which is a Cautionary Tale Pertaining to Death, Mourning, and Grief. Let’s Face it People have been trying/Longing to Cheat Death Indefinitely Clinging onto Life with every Fiber of Their Being.

                

From Juan Ponce de Leon searching Endlessly for the Mythical Fountain of Youth to The Infamous Countess Elizabeth Bathory (Who served as the ACTUAL inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and Not Vlad the Impaler. Legend has it Bathory bathed in the Blood of 650 Servant Girls She had Tortured and Killed because She believed the Blood of Young Girls had Age Defying Powers). Death is the Fact of Life We all Know to be True, but Still Never Rightfully Accept.

Plot Summery: A Grieving Mother latches on to a Mystical Surrogate for Her Deceased Little Boy, but Small Miracles come with Big Consequences. “The Dollmaker Serves as a Warning  Be careful What You Wish For because You might Just Get It.

Enjoy.

Thanks For Watching,

  Presented By Les Sober

FYB Friday Film: DEATH BED – THE BED THAT EATS!

FYB is Delighted to Present Tonight’s Movie the 1977 Surrealist Horror Film DEATH BED: THE BED THAT EATS Written, Produced, and Directed by George Barry in His Only Feature Film.

           

Plot Summery:

Long ago, a Demon fell in Love with a Woman and Conjured up a Bed on which to make love to Her. Unfortunately for the Woman She Dies During Coitus, and Devastated by Grief, the Demon Wept TEARS OF BLOOD which land on the Bed causing it to Come Alive. While the Demon Sleeps the Bed’s Evil is Safely Contained, but Once Every Ten Years the Demon Awakens from His Ancient Slumber. Once the Demon Wakes it Gives The Bed the Supernatural Power to Physically DEVOUR ITS HUMAN VICTIMS ALIVE!

Only One Man, an Artist named Aubrey Beardsley was ever Spared from The Bed’s Murderous Curse, But The Bed Condemned Beardsley to Immortality Imprisoned Helplessly behind a Painting. From His Eternal Prison behind the Painting Beardsley is Forced watch The Bed Satisfy its APPITITE FOR HUMAN FLESH Throughout Time.  Will Beardsley ever be Free? Can the Death Bead be Beaten and How? Will the Death Bed’s Curse Continue On? You’ll have to just Watch and See For Yourself. Enjoy.

           

A Few Reviews:

Death Bed is a Horror Flick destined for some small place in the Hearts of Psychotronic Fans who already treasure such Extreme Oddities…”

-Dennis Harvey (Variety Magazine)

Death Bed is such a True Original that you have to overlook all its faults and just go with it and enjoy this Whimsical Drug Induced Nightmare”

-Barry Meyer (Film Monthly)

” A Major Classic in the What-Were-They-Thinking School of Horror.”

-Brian J. Dillard (Allmovie)

           

“..One of the Most Disconnected and Impressive Low Budget Horror Films of All Time.”

-Joseph A. Ziemba (Bleeding Skull!)

“On the Other Hand, Death Bed Weilds a Strange and Unique Charm that kept Entrancing Me even when I was Bored Stiff. I’ll always take an Interesting Failure over some Uninspired By-The-Numbers Horror Flick.”

-Adam Tyner (DVD Talk)

“A Nightmarish Dream Existence.”

-Ain’t It Cool News

Hope You Enjoyed this Little Piece of Horrific Absurdity as Much as We Did. Goodnight and Sleep Tight.

  Presented By Les Sober

Another Good Man Is Dead

It’s a Truly Sad Day here at FYB as I found out Earlier Today that My Oldest and Dearest Friends Mike BlueJetSki Dies to Soon Last Night of Congestive Heart Failure. Ever Since I found Out the World Seems to Be Somewhat Off as if Reality has Suddenly gone Askew. Another Fallen Friend to Bid Farewell   to Another Death, Another Celebration of Deceased’s Life, Another Grave Needs Filling.

I’m not what You would call a Sentimental sort of Person so This is Far, Far, Far from any Biographical Memoire, but Alas I still have Shit to Say. I met Mike when I switched Schools right Before 9th Grade. It’s needless to say High School fucking Sucks, and Teenagers are Assholes so being an Interloper in a Group of fellow Students who have been fucking Classmates since fucking Elementary School. Mike was the First Person to approach Me and extend His Hand in Friendship.

Mike was an extremely Talented Self Taught Guitarist who I had the distinct Pleasure of Playing with in Several High School Bands with such as Burnt Toast, The Severed Heads, Rules of a Riot, The Satanic MC Collective, Shit Out of Luck, Far From Sober, and most Notably Stank Breath. Mike and I were part of the Motley Crew of Heavy Metal Loving, Pot Smoking, Underage Drinking Head Banger Slackers who’s only real accomplishment was Not Dropping Out or Flunking out of High School. For some in Our Circle of Friends that was a Tall Order I assure You.

           

Mike was also an Amazing Mechanic who was Born with a Natural Talent for Working with His Hands. I stopped by Mike’s Grandmothers House where Mike was Helping Her Clean Out Her Cluttered Attic. While Rummaging Through the Contents of the Attic Mike had come across His Grandfather’s Korean War Rifle. Now Mike had Obviously never seen a Korean War Rifle since He was Born After the Korean War Itself. It took Mike Meer Minutes to Completely Disassemble the Rifle, Clean it, and Reassemble it Flawlessly in Perfect Working Order .

During Our Junior Year of High School Mike’s Mother Started Dating since Sad to Say Mike’s Father had Died at an Early Age as Well of Heart Related Issues (The Kicker was He was on Medication that would have kept Him alive Accept for a Short Period He couldn’t Afford it and Paying the Bills. Talk about putting Family First and True Sacrifice.) a few Years before I met Him. Mike’s Mom was a Unconventional Character who was Honestly Quite Lonely and wanted Someone, Anyone really to Live out the Rest of Her Days With. After a long line of fucking Loser’s She impulsively Married a Southern Religious Fanatic and Old School Racist Asshole Don without Ever meeting Him in Person Prior to the Wedding (this was Pre Internet so They had to write actual Letters and Use Landlines to Communicate.)

Mike’s Mom suddenly announced one Day soon after Marrying Don the Dick to Dothan Alabama of all fucking Shitholes because thats were Don and His Family Lived, and They (Mike and His Siblings) had just under 2 weeks to get Their Shit Together before the Actual Moving Day. Again back in those Days there Weren’t wasn’t the Internet or Social Media or Skype so as I said communication could be Slow and for that matter inconsistent. The Only other Option outside of Snail Mail was Land Lines that Charged a small fucking fortune for Long Distance Calls. Being Teenagers Niether Mike nor I had any Money or source of Income so I could Move with Mike, and Mike couldn’t Move Back.

           

I did manage to Sell Enough Pot to Visit Mike During Spring Break to Don’s Dismay in Fact Don Claimed that if I came to Visit I’d “Bring the Devil to Alabama.” which being a Heavy Metal Fan and Teenager I thought was pretty fucking bad ass. In the End Mike’s Mom Divorced Don who became Mentally Unstable increasingly more and more as Time Passed. One Day Mike found Don sitting in the Kitchen with a Loaded Shotgun ranting about Murdering Mike. Mike tackled Don who was out of Shape and Obese and Wrenched the Shotgun from Him which He then locked in the Trunk of His car for Safe Keeping.

Mike was seriously one of the Most Artistically creative People I have EVER had the Sincere Pleasure of Knowing. Mike could Improvise like a Motherfucker No Matter what was Going On Mike could whip up a Song, Fictional Character, Short Story, or Movie Plot just to name a Few of Mike’s Natural Born Talents. Mike was the Ultimate Creative Collaborator the Synergy was fucking Insane like Two People living as One. Mike was the kind of Friend that We didn’t even Need to Talk, No verbalization Necessary to Communicate through just a series of Looks You’d know exactly what either of Us was Thinking/Feeling. It was Uncanny it Really fucking was. I image that being Friends with Mike equated to the Unexplained Link between sets of Twins.

Mike was also one of the Friendliest, Most Open Minded, Loyal, Caring, and Zen like People to ever walk the fucking Planet. I appreciated that being an Introvert who Spends Far too much Time in My own Head (sometimes to My Detriment) being Motivated by My Emotions. One of if not the Best piece of fucking Advice that has served Me well Over a Vast number of Years I got From Mike. I forget the exact Details other than We were Hanging Out in some Public Place, and I started to get Paranoid as a Motherfucker for some reason I can’t Remember. Mike Stared Me Dead in the Eye and in all seriousness said “Maybe what You think is going on ISN’T Going on because its all in Your Head??!”

           

Sad to Say that for Several Years Mike and I lost Touch until Our fucking Cliche finding One Another on (and it Pains Me so to Admit) Facebook back before Zuckerberg and I got into Our Battle of Wills. I will say this One of the first fucking things I did when the Bullshit FB shit happened I almost immediately exchanged Phone Numbers to Keep FB communications to a minimum. Unfortunately I ended up Abandoning Facebook which inadvertently lead to another Period of Separation if You will. Time went by and We ironically reconnected again on FaceBook, but it was Through My Wife who acted as My FB Middle Woman. From then on We talked several times a Month, but the Coolest Part was no matter how long it had been once We were reunited it wasn’t awkward or Weird in Any way whatsoever. Mike and I would simply Pick Up exactly whereWe left Off like No Time had passed at all.

My One and Only Regret is Not Seeing Mike in Person Face to Face since the Trip I took Junior Year to Visit Him. Technology has the Power to Connect, But it has No Personality. Some things can Only be done in Person there is absolutely No Technical Equivalent and Never fucking will be.

           

In Closing : I will Never Forget or Stop Missing My Dearly Departed Friend who I am sure is Giving Them Hell in Heaven.

Thanks for Giving a Shit & Reading,

By Les Sober

Life and Death in Architectural History

For the most part most of people today are well aware that during the Victorian Era (June 20, 1837 – January 22, 1901) Society and People in Large were absolutely OBSESSED with Death. This led to a variety of practices that can seem by todays standards to be outrageous, Bizarre, Morbid, and just plain Sick.

Some of these unusual practices pertaining to Death in the Victorian Era were as follows. Postmortem Portraits meaning ( Note: prior to 1839 all Portraits were PAINTED by hand) the relatives of the Dead would dress the Deceased and stage them in in Life Like poses for a Photograph, Especially Infants and Children.

There was also the practice of Wearing the Hair of the Dead. The hair could be put in a locket or more commonly made into a piece of Jewelry such as Brooches, Bracelets, Rings or Chains.

Another was the practice of Covering Mirrors. Once the family member died all mirrors in the House were immediately covered. This was done because if a mirror in the House fell and broke it was a sign someone else in the Household would die soon as well. Also to avoid bad luck the clock(s) in the house of the Deceased would be stopped at the exact time of their passing. Lastly when the body was removed from the premises it had to be carried out Head First so that it wouldn’t beckon other members of the Living to Follow.

Now if SEVERAL family members of the same family died EVERYONE and EVERYTHING that entered the Family Home would be wearing a Black Ribbon to PREVENT THE DEATHS FROM SPREADING FURTHER.

For my last example I will use the practice of taking all Family photos and turning them face down. This was to prevent the Deceased’s Spirit form POSSESSING Relatives and Friends alike.

Back in the Victorian Era Funeral Homes had very little to do with Death other than selling Coffins, and possibly providing the Grave Digging Service too. So when it came to such things as a Viewing/Wake it fell solely on the Families shoulder’s.

Based on what we have seen by the first example (Death Portraits) you better believe a Viewing/Wake was deemed absolutely necessary, BUT the question was “Where the hell do we Keep and Display The Dead?!” Without the services of Today’s Funeral Homes Families would hold the Viewing/Wake (which could last several days) in their house.

Since you couldn’t display a body in the kitchen, Houses when they were built had a Parlor Room. This room specific and really only purpose was to display Dead Family for the Viewing/Wake. And yes the name Parlor was a shortened version of Funeral Parlor.

Over time of course Funeral Homes realized their was a shit ton of cash they were missing out in in the Death Service Field. Slowly Funeral Homes came to resemble those of today offering a SLEW of Funeral options, but most importantly They had their own Viewing areas for Wakes. Thus Parlor’s found themselves unemployed and thrown out on their collective ass.

The issue that confronted POST Victorian Era Architects (and Society as a whole) was the lingering stigma of The Parlor. As we all can image as long as houses were built with Parlor’s the vision of Dead relatives on display would haunt the room’s reputation until the end of Time.

What comes next is NOT AN EXACT nor ANYWHERE CLOSE HISTORICALLY ACCURATE retelling of how The Parlor problem was Fixed.

One day on January 1, 1901 the American Architecture Society met for a special conference that was being held for the sole reason of coming up with a viable solution for the Prevalent Parlor Problem. The conference was held in a small town of Mortuary located on the outskirts of Death Valley in Sunny California. They unanimously agreed at the time that the Town name and Location were quite appropriate, and if your going to have a convention dealing with Death best to have it in a beautiful Sunny State full of Bleach Blonde Surfers?!!

Any who the morning was a complete wash, no one could see to come up with even a half decent answer to the Parlor Problem. By Noon everyone’s blood sugar was in their ankles so the Mediator called 60 minutes for Lunch hoping after a good meal the Men’s mental faculties might actually yield a solution.

As the Conference was breaking for Lunch a young attendy (an Architectural Student from Erroneous University in Pluskin the East end of South Dakota) by the name of Eger Herberts over heard two fellow attendees conversation on the said subject of Lunch. One Man had asked the other where exactly should they go for Lunch today. The 2nd Man replied he thought Lunch at The Lively Leprechaun Kitchen and Bar would be a good idea. To that the First Man said “Ah Food and Drink under one roof now thats Living!”

Right then Eger had his Epiphany and immediately ran over a pushed the conferences Emergency Stop Button. Once The Emergency Stop Button was pushed all in Attendance had to Stop dead in their tracks, and await instruction. Once everyone was motionless and silent Eger announced his answer.

“What’s the OPPOSITE of Death? Life! LIVING! We rename it a LIVING ROOM, Thats POSITIVE as all get out Right?!”

After the Shock and Awe wore off it was put to a vote right there on the spot and as a result the (Funeral) Parlor was REBRANDED as what we know of today as yes a Living Room.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober 

Puddles, Insomnia, Ghosts

(All my blogs from now will have a song attached that tries to go with the blog ranging from quite well to quite well but only after 10 mixed drinks. link is below my ramblings.)

I had great big plans for today. A wonderful schedule written on the whiteboard. A premade breakfast in its properly place. And then you showed up. It happened when I least expected it. It always does.

Your face showed up on my ceiling. In between the tears that tasted so salty on my lips, I caught your glimpse. I briefly smelled your scent, heard you tapping at my window. Then it was all gone, just as soon as it began.

My puddle diver. I cannot believe it has been over five years since you went away. It seems like it were just yesterday. That I could see your smiling face. Hear your carefree.

Sure, I have to dig a little deeper ago then five years, because five years ago you had lost your shine. Well not the shine, I could never see you not bathed in some kind of wonderful light. Time had taken away your smile. Time had dulled a certain part of what made you so wonderful to me. It was subtle at times but probably was much deeper. All I could see at times was my ignorance in a reflection.

I know you are still here even as I write these lines. I’m for some reason listening to Ani DiFranco. She was always more your lesbian side. Mine was this ridiculous interest in sports, but not like playing them because I didn’t want to mess up my great skin.

We were once young and well in comparison to you I guess I am the younger one now. Any age is a much more desired one then the agelessness being a corpse provides. Ageless beauty is some myth an undertaker decided to vomit onto the general population one too many moons ago.

I still remember painting with you. I had camped out at your house for an entire week, not some stormy weekend that eventually became our trademark (and demise.) You painted me a shirt. It was the silliest thing ever yet I cherished it so much. I even wore it in public a few times. I was so proud to wear your colors.

Then I threw all the colors out the window. We all did. It was my own personal prequel to 13 Reasons Why. I was such a horrible person that I’m sure I would have made the list more then once. So afraid to help because I was still so afraid of how I felt about you. I was always completely petrified. Even though you are gone, I’m still lost because of you.

Yet here I am now. I’ve been waiting 5 years to write this. As if I am somehow immortal. Some alien form that is going to outlast the cockroaches. Sadly, this shan’t be the case. I simply want redemption. While I cannot have this with you, it is something I deeply need for myself.

I cannot sit my the window any longer watching life pass me by. Instead, I will run. Flat on my face. I will fall. A lot.  It is no longer my time to just stare out at the rain.  Because I am the storm. And you forever are my Puddle Diver.