A Parallactic Pictures Production
of a film by
Kevin Kolsch
starring
James Lord
and introducing
Jacey Cockrobin
as
“The Chicken”
DOWN THE HATCH
A nightmarish tale of fatherhood and breakfast
A Parallactic Pictures Production
of a film by
Kevin Kolsch
starring
James Lord
and introducing
Jacey Cockrobin
as
“The Chicken”
DOWN THE HATCH
A nightmarish tale of fatherhood and breakfast
Posted in Bestiality, Film, Rape, Sexuality
Tagged 2011 Bumper Contest, Alien, Altered States, Chicken Blowjob, Cooking, Down the Hatch, Eggs, Fantastic Fest, Fatherhood, Nightmares, Vomit
Check out this nifty little video we shot to promote the upcoming LitReactor launch. It’s called Procrastination, and deals with a subject I’m sure most writers are familiar with. Procrastination. It features a winning performance by veteran thespian Brian James, as well as a healthy dose of the internet’s favorite thing- cat antics! It used to contain an hilarious masturbation scene (it’s no secret that masturbation is the greatest time burglar of all), but we trimmed it in the interest of mass appeal. Still, it’s worthy of your attention. You watch now!
And while you’re over there, don’t forget to sign our mailing list to receive your free PDF of exclusive writing advice from authors such as Chuck Palahniuk, Steve Erickson, Bret Easton Ellis, Craig Clevenger, Neil Gaiman, and Jack Ketchum. The internet is already abuzz with its praise.
What’s the best way to incapacitate a sexy female vampire intent on exsanguination? How about a nice clove of garlic, right up the ole pooper shooter? Experts agree, wooden stakes are too messy, and not nearly as much fun. Plus, if you ruin the body, you won’t be able to impale it with your flesh stake later on. So butt play it safe. Protect ya neck by seasoning her ass-neck. Bung that hole and add some zest to that Transylvanian tossed salad.
But how do you determine whether a refined young lady is a vampire or not? You don’t want to go around cramming vegetable matter into the anal cavity of every woman you meet. (You should wait until at least the second or third date for that.) So what’s a sexually dysfunctional vampire hunter to do? Why, make like Pee-wee Herman and get some shoe mirrors, of course! Then you invite the bitch over to dinner and do some panty peaking. If you catch a mirror full of muff, you’re all good. But if her vagina has no reflection, that means she’s a vampire, and you should run out and get the most bulbous piece of garlic you can find.
Move over Bo Derek, there’s a new queen of equine eros in town- is what I’d be saying if this were the year 2001. Unfortunately, I’m a little late to the Godiva game on this, so we’ll have to play with the space-time continuum a bit. Just like 1984 came and went without fulfilling Orwell’s dystopian predictions to a tee, there was no way Kubrick and Clarke could have foresaw this aberrant agape in their futuristic vision. 9 cinematic years later, in 2010, the crew of the Leonov and Peter Hyman spoiled the mystery of the first film by revealing the nonsensical hippie message of the imposing monolith- peace and love (a message that would later be recycled in Jim Cameron’s abysmal The Abyss). If we knew back then (2001) what we know right now (2010), we wouldn’t be the King of the Ladies, we’d extend that message of love beyond the Ruskies to the animal kingdom and start fucking horses.
Because what the monolith knew that we earthlings did not, is that the physical act of love between humans and horsemanity is as old as time itself. Hence all the centaur fossils found by Indiana Jones and Sean Connery over the years. Creationists believe centaurs were created by God and coexisted with Adam and Eve and the dinosaurs in the Garden of Eden, but science knows the sexy truth. It is high time we got back to our rutting roots, when “taking a trip to the glue factory” meant something entirely different than it does now.
Posted in Bestiality, Books, Celebrity Shit Heads, Film, Music
Tagged 1984, 2001, 2010, Angelina Jolie, Arthur C. Clarke, Bo Derek, Bolero, Centaurs, Extreme, George Orwell, Horse Sex, Indiana Jones, King of the Ladies, Mr. Ed, Peter Hyman, Sarah Jessica Parker, Sex and the City, Stanley Kubrick
I know most of the freaky weirdos that visit this blog don’t come here for my witty brand of irreverent humor. Don’t lie, I’ve seen the search engine stats. You’re into bizarre shit, I write about bizarre shit. Google does the rest. Chances are you discovered thejabber while searching some horrible combination of fetishes that by all rights should have the FBI beating down your door.
But maybe- just maybe- some of you are more than the sum of your kink. Maybe some of you are writers. Writers looking to hone their craft. Or maybe you’re a book nerd, looking for a place to geek out. If so, allow me to present my latest writing venture- it’s called LitReactor.
LitReactor is a new website from the team behind ChuckPalahniuk.net, and will be devoted to the craft of writing and all things literary. We will be hosting a groundbreaking writer’s workshop; monthly classes taught by published authors and industry professionals; as well as an online magazine devoted to news, reviews, interviews, and articles.
The site goes live October 1st, but if you sign up for our mailing list now, you will receive a free compendium of exclusive writing advice from authors such as Chuck Palahniuk, Steve Erickson, Bret Easton Ellis, Craig Clevenger, Neil Gaiman, and Jack Ketchum. So head on over, and while you’re there, like and follow all the requisite social networking affiliates, which will feature supplementary material, not just content recycled from the website.
We’ve got a ton of great things planned, and look forward to sharing it with you all. And for those of you addicted to the flippancy of thejabber, don’t worry, we’ll still be churning out offensive material to clog the tubes of the internet like so many toilets.
Oh, internet. Just when I think I’ve seen it all, you show me something wonderful and new.
Diary of An Unborn Child was conceived anonymously (just like me!) and published by some Jehovah’s Witness rag in the year of our lord 1980. It is the first person narrative of a developing fetus who can’t wait to be born, but, unbeknownst to him, is actually headed for that great uterus vacuum in the sky.
No one wanted to claim responsibility for the bastard, until a creepy-ass troubadour came along and adopted it as his own. He set it to music, punched himself in the nuts, and took it on the road. His name was Mark Fox, AKA Lil’ Markie, a repressed child molester locked in a perpetual state of arrested development.
This grown man would travel from church to church, performing for adults in his prepubescent falsetto, singing songs about aborted fetuses and alcoholic fathers who still get to go to heaven because they accept Jesus in the end. (The alcoholic fathers, not the fetuses. Everyone knows aborted babies go straight to HELL because they haven’t been baptized.)
The whole spiel is meant to tug on the ole’ heartstrings of you pro-choice heathens, but has (ironically) taken on a LIFE of its own on the internet. It is unintentionally hilarious and extraordinarily creepy. It makes me wonder- what happened to Mark Fox as a child that he chose to regress to that stage of his emotional development? Was that when the bad man touched you, Mark? Was it someone you trusted? Did you cry out in that high-pitched voice, the same one you use when committing your own acts of molestation? Because it’s not you that’s raping those kids. No, it’s Lil’ Markie. He makes you do it. It’s the only way to shut him up, isn’t it?
Via IO9: Functioning Anal Sphincter Grown In Petri Dish
This is the future, people. Science has finally solved the age old problem of the blown out O-ring… in mice.
Why mice? Because no one rump wrangles or power shats harder than the murine, that’s why. But don’t worry, the hierarchy of creatures in need of anus replacement goes 1. Mice, 2. Elton John, so humans should be next in line.
Especially since they are using a combination of human muscle cells and mouse nerve cells to achieve this scientific wonderment. Sound ungodly to you? That’s because you don’t have an asshole like a deflated inner tube. You know what it’s like when your socks lose elasticity and continually slouch down around your ankles? Picture that. Only in your butt.
This is why scientists science first and tell later. Thankfully the result wasn’t some sort of sentient, disembodied half human/half mouse/half anus that got loose (get it?) and wreaked havoc on a major metropolitan area. That would have been terrible. It would make for a good movie, though. I’m writing “Frankenanus” as we speak, so no one steal my idea.
Chalk another one up for science. How many anuses has Jesus replaced? None, I should think. Otherwise it would have been in the Bible, right there next to turning water into wine. Viva la science!