Heydee ho boys & girls. It's yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?
No. In today's posting title, I was not referring to a fundamental shift in my sexual identity. No. Sheesh.
But, I gotta tell ya kids - there's just something not right about sittin' at home and watching. Just not right.
I refer, of course, to a home viewing of THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW.
At home - there's no throwing of toast. Or rice. Or the squirting up into the air of water.
At home - there's no crowds shouting obscenities at the screen.
At home - there's no dressing in garters, stockings, bling'd out monster heels and applying sweet glorious ruby red lipstick, delicious blue eye shadow and a string of honkin' huge pearls. Well not regularly. Thursday nights don't count.
All that stuff - only happens at the movie-house. And, it is such an important part of the whole Rocky experience.
Have you been?
Alright - if you haven't - you really must. Seriously. Find a showing at a theatre near you. Don't worry about anything - just go. Enjoy. Then come back. Trust me.
But - last evening, me, the Wife and our good friend Hurricane... (you remember Hurricane don't you? Stops to pee at a stranger's house. Target of voodoo practitioners? Ya - her) So - we all watched Rocky on TV last night.
I never really knew some of the dialog.
However, despite all the extras that normally go along with a showing of Rocky - I did find myself smiling for an hour and a half whist watching it.
Lets face it - Tim Curry as Frankie, Richard O'Brien as Riff Raff - how can you not smile each and every time they are on screen?
And, of course, yesterday was October 31st. Which means - Halloween.
The Kid and his punk friends - they got together to go and do a little Trick or Treatin'. Came back. Sugared up. And, there was a sleepover at Scrub's.
Scary movies. Candy. Late night Macaroni & Cheese.
As usual - good times.