Booze Talkin’ #1

Last Updated on July 27, 2021

Welcome to Arrow in the Head’s own little place to rant and rave
about the state of the horror genre and other related useless shit. Don’t let
the witty title fool you either, I plan on getting absolutely shitfaced every
time I sit down to write one of these bitches. Right now, for instance, I’m
parked in a darkened den in a GWAR costume sipping spiked blood (sugar-free
Kool-Aid) out of a worn out gold (plastic) chalice. Romero’s DAWN OF THE DEAD is
playing on a continuous loop in the background and my oldest son is in the
corner using the neighbour’s cat’s entrails (Crayola Washables) to paint REDRUM
over and over on the wall. The mood is set, punches will not be pulled, let’s
get it on.

Bring Back Elvira!

I didn’t even know what the word, cleavage, meant the first time
I saw those things above. I literally had no words to describe how I felt.
Cassandra Peterson’s tits are as much to blame for my love of cheesy horror
films as the rubber monster suits and extravagant death scenes are. Few
childhood memories are as sweet as sneaking into the basement for a late night
horror marathon hosted by The Mistress of the Dark and her pale pounds of flesh.
Would this week be the episode they escape the evil clutches of her evening
wear? Could they break through the black seams of censorship? Does she have
reverse tan lines? These were the burning questions that made me sit through
such riveting films as THEY SAVED HITLER’S BRAIN and BLACULA. Thus, a twisted
pervert was born. Imagine how I felt when Mr. Internet showed up in my house and
I found (beware of the following link, contains extremely NSFW images and an
epic bush) all
these.

So where the hell has she been? Halloween passed this year and I
realized I never even heard her name. Come to think of it, last Halloween
either, or the one before. There was a time when October was ruled by this woman
as much as December was by the fat dude or April by the bunny rabbit. Find the
Great Pumpkin with Charlie Brown, kill some babysitters with Michael Myers, and
engage in the most unsavoury of thoughts with Elvira’s rack. It was like fucking
clockwork. There’s got to be an entire generation of kids out there that don’t
understand there’s more to Halloween than just stealing smaller kids’ candy and
three million Joker costumes.

I took a look at her
website and realized she still does public appearances. There’s calendars,
the DVDs still sell, the boobs still bounce, why not bring her back to TV for at
least one night of shitty movies and gothic GILF goodness? I understand she’s
older now, so give her a couple hot granddaughters to lighten the load. Even
bigger boobs, skimpier dresses, high definition pillow fights. The time is now
people. She apparently had a reality show last year called ‘The Search for
the Next Elvira’ that I never heard of and earlier this year Katie Price was
rumoured to be starring in a remake of ELVIRA, MISTRESS OF THE DARK, which
hasn’t shown up on anybody’s radar since.

Maybe it’s the booze talking but Elvira was a Halloween
tradition like no other when I was a kid. In a world where there are whole
channels and online communities based on the very genre she’s spent her entire
career supporting, you’d think someone would be smart enough to bring back the
rack.