.... was like running through a crumbling haunted house, each room more horrifying than the last. And you never know when one of the wood floor planks would give way, dropping you into a bottomless abyss from which you'd NEVER, EVER ESCAPE!!!!!!!!!!!
Surely that bitch mother of his should be in jail, and I so badly wanted to and would slap the shit out of her (and I don't care if she's a woman). Who could guess with a casual glance at the trailer from outside what wretchedness burns inside. A child raised in such circumstances is destined to either be a brilliant writer or start another Manson family, and perhaps that's next.
The makeup lesson in Baby Doll is one of the very few rays of sunlight beaming through the prison bars of this stinking dungeon. Yet I found myself strangely turned on by the sado-masochistic eroticism/torture of the early part of Lizards. Wrongdoing on purpose so you have an excuse to get your ass whipped by a stern yet frenzied master. Or watch other handsome blonde boys suffer the same fate. Tragedy, torture and titillation all wrapped in one. The big bad wolf on the way to Grandma's house.
[This message was edited by Luxury Lex on 10-18-03 at 10:46 PM.]