Some of you smarter types might read a classic novel to better educate yourself, or perhaps to simply make you a more well-rounded individual. I do something similar, but remove the legitimacy. See, I'll watch obscure or niche movies in hopes of one thing, being able to cleverly reference them in conversation. In my mind, I'll be having this chat, surrounded by people who look like various incarnations of Rivers Cuomo, and I will drop some amazing reference and it will astound everyone. In college, before I met my wife of course, this imagined scenario was filled with women. And they were so wowed by my wit, it made their shirts uncomfortable. Naturally, they removed them.
Dropping a proper Blacula reference is likely going to be impossible, but I've hopefully got at least fifty more years to do it. Or, if I'm bitten by an irate African prince with massive eyebrows, I might have the rest of time. Either way, I'm up for the challenge.
This was one of those situations where I thought my wife was asleep. No, not one of those situations, but one where I figured I might as well watch something that she would have absolutely zero interest in. Sure enough, she saunters into the living room right as I press play. Ooh, what are you watching? Shit.
Actually, she hung in there for a minute. Just long enough to see Count Dracula not only curse the African Prince (after mildly offending him by casually offering to purchase his wife), but to also give him a new f--king name. Seriously, when did vampires get this power? Shit, not only am I an undead f--k, but now I have to be called f--king Blacula? This is some bullshit, man, Bullshit.
Outside of the random beginning, Blacula is pretty straightforward. Our main man wakes up in early 70's Los Angeles rather bloodthirsty. He chomps on the first two dudes he sees, meets his reincarnated wife, easily convinces her of her past, and attempts to live happily after. Meanwhile, an incredibly smooth doctor pieces together the mystery of a rash of dead people showing up in the morgue completely drained of blood. And while this bothers him ever so much, he still finds time to take his sweet lady/lab assistant to the club. There, they meet and hang out with some funky dude who sounds like Sideshow Mel and wears a long black cape everywhere he goes. Man, if only we had some leads!
This was one of those situations where I thought my wife was asleep. No, not one of those situations, but one where I figured I might as well watch something that she would have absolutely zero interest in. Sure enough, she saunters into the living room right as I press play. Ooh, what are you watching? Shit.
Actually, she hung in there for a minute. Just long enough to see Count Dracula not only curse the African Prince (after mildly offending him by casually offering to purchase his wife), but to also give him a new f--king name. Seriously, when did vampires get this power? Shit, not only am I an undead f--k, but now I have to be called f--king Blacula? This is some bullshit, man, Bullshit.
Outside of the random beginning, Blacula is pretty straightforward. Our main man wakes up in early 70's Los Angeles rather bloodthirsty. He chomps on the first two dudes he sees, meets his reincarnated wife, easily convinces her of her past, and attempts to live happily after. Meanwhile, an incredibly smooth doctor pieces together the mystery of a rash of dead people showing up in the morgue completely drained of blood. And while this bothers him ever so much, he still finds time to take his sweet lady/lab assistant to the club. There, they meet and hang out with some funky dude who sounds like Sideshow Mel and wears a long black cape everywhere he goes. Man, if only we had some leads!
