Words Fail Me…
I’m adding “Words Fail Me…” as a new blog category, because I find this increasingly to be the case in the insane world in which we live.
So I see Blockbuster is going out of business down the street, and I decide, since I’m going to be starring as Harold Hill in The Music Man in a few weeks, to see if either the 1962 version, or the newer one with Matthew Broderick and Kristen Chenowyth, is for sale (they weren’t). But I happen down the horror aisle and catch one title that I had to grab from the shelf to see if it was honest-to-goodness for-real—and to my…horror…it was. 
Here’s the description, from Wikipedia:
And so, I’m thinking, how utterly miserable must your life be, that you’d give, what, an hour-and-a-half of it up to watch this…this…this…words fail me.
But there’s more; when I Googled it, I learned, much to my…horror…that there’s a sequel:
The Ginderdead Man 2: Passion of the Crust
But wait…there’s even more. Yes, more. Soon, we can all look forward to…yeah, you’re way ahead of me here, aren’t you?
The Gingerdead Man 3: Saturday Night Cleaver
OK, now I’ll say it:
c’mon… Garey Busey as a deranged, maniacal cookie? Who WOULDN’T want to see that?
I’m sure these are execrable junk, but you’ve gotta know, just from the bad puns, that no one involved was treating it seriously! This must be along the line of Octo-Monster Vs. Giant Shark.
I’m sure you’re right, but the idea that somebody would actually believe—and they must be right, else why would they do it?—that they could make money on this, is just beyond me. I guess there is a percentage of the public who lead lives such that they this stuff entertaining—a thought which I cannot possibly fathom.
But then again, there’s WWE, right? Wow…