So I’m watching “Zombie Strippers” – a C movie if ever there was one. And then there’s a scene where porn star Jenna Jameson (who once hit on my high school friend Randy in a bowling alley) is a….wait for it…zombie stripper who takes Jeremy into the Champagne Room and then proceeds to feast on his junk. Exhibiting gustatory enthusiasm, no less.

Strip club owner Robert Englund, et alia, rush in where a gore-splattered Jenna offers them a severed limb by way of an olive branch. They decline so she totters off as only a zombie wearing stripper heels can do.

Meanwhile, bouncer Tito Ortiz has slunk out the door – no doubt opining that discretion is the better part of valor or something to that effect.

Did I mention that I have the 2009 remake of Friday the 13th playing on the television as background noise? I’ve camped in the park where they filmed the original Part II, but nobody attacked me with a machete.

Zombie Jenna cackling while reading Nietzsche and saying “This makes so much more sense now” is priceless.


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