The Curator of Schlock
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The Curator of Schlock #505: The Amityville Horror
I had a trout Beanie Baby named Rainbow. The prize jewell of my collection is now gone with the rest. All sold on eBay by the Goose Lord and his gang. I’m sorry. I can’t process the loss right now. Maybe I’ll work up the strength next time. — To be continued. Happy Halloween, everybody! Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #504: House
“Who are you?” I asked the pencil-necked geek hiding in what was formerly my Beanie Baby archive. “I’m Albert Simmons,” he said as he dabbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m the accountant for the Gooselord and his gang.” “Where are my Beanie Babies?” I asked with clenched fists. “Did these hoodlums throw them Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #503: Shivers
I opened the door to my Beanie Baby storehouse. I reached out for the string that when yanked would give me 60 soft-glowing watts. The illuminated room revealed no Beanie Babies. Half a lifetime of investment down the drain. I was supposed to retire on those! I screamed and with that, a pencil-necked geek came Continue reading
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Episode 642: Schloctoberfest 2024 #1 (Crimes of the Future)!
On this week’s show, Jeff Shuster and I discuss the existential provocations of two films called Crimes of the Future, both created by David Cronenberg. TEXTS DISCUSSED NOTES If you are an amazon customer, one way to support this show is to begin shopping with this affiliate link, so that the podcast is granted a small Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #501: Talk to Me
I almost tripped over a severed arm as I made my way over to Waldo, my compatriot in the striped red and white shirt. He was clutching his gut as red started to bleed into the white stripes of his shirt. “I’m dying, man,” Waldo said as he looked up at me with glazed eyes. Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #500: Alien: Romulus
I wheezed in the smoke that filled the room as my faithful companions combatted the goons that had turned the basement of the Museum of Schlock into a fentanyl distribution center. I do mean tooth and nail. Edwige, the kangaroo, was sinking her jaw into the neck of a flailing punk. The smoke began to Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #499: Four Flies on Grey Velvet
I had no idea that the Revenging Manta, the ninja vigilante of downtown Orlando, would throw exploding gas pellets to the floor, enveloping the room in smoke as we tried to subdue some fentanyl pushers. I could hear Waldo screaming in the background as gunfire went off. I could see the shadow of Edwige, my Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #498: The Cat o’ Nine Tails
The Revenging Manta, Edwige, Waldo, and I leaped from the elevator, ready for action. There were about a dozen goons wearing gas masks and rubber gloves. They were sorting multi-colored fentanyl pills and filling empty boxes of cracker jacks with them. One of them noticed us and whipped out a Beretta Tomcat. The first shot Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #497: The Bird with the Crystal Plumage
As Edwige, Waldo, Manta, and I rode down the elevator, we had a moment. Waldo took out a pack of Bubblicious. It was the watermelon flavor, my favorite. He first offered a piece to The Revenging Manta, but the ninja vigilante held up his hand to pass on the offer. He offered a piece to Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #496: The Running Man
\Without knowing where in the building the Goose Lord was, I decided that I, the Curator of Schlock, Edwidge the kangaroo, the Revenging Manta, and Waldo should make our way to service elevator. With power restored to the building, we should have been able to get down to the basement and see if there were Continue reading
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