Tales to Astonish!

We’ve all seen the poster. Outline Man hugging Outline Woman. His arms wrapped tightly around her from behind, pulling her closer to him, close against his body. Her lips are parted. The anticipation is almost unbearable; you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. A knife that she should’ve used to cut her steak into much smaller pieces.

Is this a scene from my last super-hot date? A hint of the adults-only version yet to come? No. This is… the Heimlich Maneuver, the world’s hottest maneuver that isn’t listed in the Urban Dictionary. It brings the sexy back to choking on food. Or, if you’re into auto-erotic asphyxiation, it’s just sort of like a big hug.

AUTOEROTIC ASPHYXIATION

I see a lot of these Heimlich posters, since I tend to stare at the walls in restaurants as I eat alone because I live in Queens and no one will come visit me, and I’m often struck by the weirdly sexual nature of them. Not that my mind hasn’t progressed any since the sixth grade, but once you get the idea in your head in the first place it’s hard to get it out. I find it amusing that with all the calls to ban ‘grinding’ on the dance floors of high schools everywhere, almost every restaurant I’ve ever been in has what might appear to be instructions on how to do it doggy-style.

Also, this one made me think that, according to the conventions of mid-sixties Fantastic Four comic book art, she has INVISIBLE BOOBS.

For what it’s worth, invisible boobs are still good boobs.

Found on the Bat-Blog:

I remember when these “Commissioner Gordon has a heart attack” ads started to run in the pages of DC comics way back in the day. I listened faithfully to their anti-smoking campaign, trying to get my dad to quit smoking, and even managed to refrain from taking up the nasty habit myself — until I stopped reading comics regularly, at which point I started smoking like there was a prize at the bottom of every pack of Lucky Strikes. And there was a prize! Hidden in every pack there was a shiny new “desperate compulsion to buy more Lucky Strikes.” Made in the USA!

I guess the point is that you should never stop reading comic books, because if you do YOU WILL GET CANCER. I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re saying.

On the other hand, I’m still all hopped-up on Robitussin in order to get me through the final expectorant stage of sickness, so my mind is shot.  Unless you’re looking to hear stories about how I can hear stars and taste colors, that is.  (Blue tastes like almonds, and green tastes like the way gravel feels when it’s cold.)

So, in lieu of a real post, I’ll just put up a reminder:

If you want a holiday card, don’t forget to send me your address by going over to “Send a Message” up there in my sidebar.  Remember: I have no addresses except for the ones that have been given to me in the past five days, so if anyone — blogwise or real-life-wise — wants one, email me.  If you’re all lucky, I’ll write them out tonight while I’m still high, and they’ll be full of True Wisdom.

What better gift is there for the holiday season?

I better get well soon, before I run out of Die Hard sequels.

Should things go badly, though, please tie my body up with a fire hose and throw me off of Nakatomi Plaza.

Despite taking so much Robitussin that it borders on recreational use, I’m still under the onslaught of my flu. Rather, my disassociated body is still under the onslaught of its flu, since the Robitussin pushes my consciousness about four feet behind my physical self. It’s actually a pretty neat feeling, but the real perk is that I finally have a good reason to walk through the halls of my workplace doing a Frankenstein shuffle. Not that it ever stopped me before, but this time when security starts to follow me, I don’t have to run.

SPEAKING OF FRANKENSTEIN, I did a little homework last night before retiring early to catch up on my Halloween Project viewing. For those that came in late, I’m building a massive collection of 1980s/90s television Halloween episodes, because that’s pretty much the kind of thing a person like me tends to end up doing. Perhaps, like Everest, simply because it’s there. I’ve been very slowly building up a master list of shows from those two decades, and then searching episode guides to find out if they had Halloween or horror-themed shows. I’m about through the “G” section now, but I’ve already started grabbing some DVDs so that I can actually have a massive TV-horror-thon by next October 31st.

The first two? Why, MacGyver, of course! Our gadgety friend had (as far as I can tell) two real Halloweenish episodes, one with Teri Hatcher and a “haunted” house, and the other with that guy that always dressed like a woman and a Halloween party. Both of the episodes were fun, but a little light on the actual Halloweenity. They took place mostly during the daytime, and they weren’t remotely creepy. Also, Teri Hatcher’s character was irritating.

But then… I got “Quantum Leap.” Way back in season one of the time-hopping series, they served up a really awesome episode where Sam leaps into the body of a B-grade horror novelist. Probably more like C-grade. Actually, it’s stuff that I would read, so it’s closer to D-grade. The author is in the midst of prepping a Halloween haunted house for the neighborhood with his fiance and his assistant Stevie, when a bunch of rather graphic (for 1989 TV) murders happen that not even Al can explain. I won’t give away too much, save for that Sam actually encounters Satan himself. There’s a twist ending that’s pretty obvious (so obvious that the DVD’s menu actually mentions it as if you already know), but its thread through the episode is so minor that it doesn’t detract from the overall excellence of the episode.

This is how you make a good Halloween episode, folks: mystery, unexplained murders, haunted houses, and Scott Bakula. Bonus points for excess stage blood in multiple scenes.

Actually, bonus points for Scott Bakula.

EDIT: Does anyone remember any Halloween episodes that were actually scary?