Slam! We are back with a seriously fun episode! We scoured EBay for some horror trash. This is what we found!
We covered Indiana Jones and the horrors within the franchise. This episode was a long time coming. I’d even say it started back in high school for us. At least the original discussion.
Indiana Jones is so full of genre it’s one of those movies and franchises that you can constantly watch over and over again and pick up on a new layers and flavors.
We hope you get offended when you listen to this wonderful episode.
Stop what your doing. Seriously. You NEED to witness the JURASSIC WORLD: FALLEN KINGDOM trailer!
Jeff Goldblum… Ian Malcolm… Demon Rex.. Chris Pratt…
I have dubbed ther Demon Rex. I will collect all of your toys!
ENTER JURASSIC WORLD HERE!
I don’t mean to get sentimental ( yes I do ) but watching this trailer really had me trippin on nostalgia.
The entire Jurassic franchise has been one that I have followed since I was a kid. From foster home to foster home, a new Jurassic movie seemed to come out. It has always provided me with a safe and secure way to find that little bit of happiness that a kid should have.
Now I’m an adult and this trailer has awakened excited child inside me. I can’t wait to experience what Fallen Kingdom has to offer.
If you haven’t, I highly recommended you to follow Jurassic World on all Social Media ventures. Some really sweet treats can be found within!
We’re back with a brand new SHOCK SESSION! This time we interview rack other about our personal love affair with horror. It was a blast!
Between the dark days of our regular episodes come Shock Sessions: Brief horror related topics individually produced and presented by our horrific hosts Chris or Eric.
We here at the It’s Alive! Podcast discuss a lot of terrorizing topics. Whether it’s movies, monsters, masks, or maniacs we love a good creepy conversation. But why do we personally love horror? Where did this obsession start? Join us for this candid and personal conversation discussing our love-at-first-sight moments with the genre, why we do a podcast, and everything in-between. Featuring a haunted polar bear.
You can download this episode by right clicking here.
My phone continued to ring. My door knob stopped it’s violent jig. The phone was the only sound now.
Squeezing the knife with my left hand, I quickly reached for my phone and answered it.
A dull static.
“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”
The voice hit me like a grenade. I was floored. I quickly ran to the door and opened it, breathlessly.
My exwife, dead or alive, can be real bitch…
I am currently the only resident in my 3 unit apartment. For the last two nights someone has been trying to open my apartment door.
I never investigate it. But I know it’s real because as I write this my door knob is slowly shaking. I can hear the groaning of the wooden entry door as if someone is pushing against it.
I’m sitting on my couch. I have a stupid pocket knife from 5 Below in my hand as I watch my door being tried. I’m careful not to make any noise.
The world is a mad, mad place. Some people kill for money or drugs. And some people kill for the hell of it. Whoever was fucking with me obviously fit amongst these types of people. But I sure as hell wasn’t going out without a fight. That is if the the door was breached. It wasn’t. Thank God. All I need to do is keep absolutely silent.
And that’s when my phone started to ring…
The steeples are white in the wild moonlight,
And the trees have a silver glare;
Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly,
And the harpies of upper air,
That flutter and laugh and stare.
For the village dead to the moon outspread
Never shone in the sunset’s gleam,
But grew out of the deep that the dead years keep
Where the rivers of madness stream
Down the gulfs to a pit of dream.
A chill wind blows through the rows of sheaves
In the meadows that shimmer pale,
And comes to twine where the headstones shine
And the ghouls of the churchyard wail
For harvests that fly and fail.
Not a breath of the strange grey gods of change
That tore from the past its own
Can quicken this hour, when a spectral power
Spreads sleep o’er the cosmic throne,
And looses the vast unknown.
So here again stretch the vale and plain
That moons long-forgotten saw,
And the dead leap gay in the pallid ray,
Sprung out of the tomb’s black maw
To shake all the world with awe.
And all that the morn shall greet forlorn,
The ugliness and the pest
Of rows where thick rise the stones and brick,
Shall some day be with the rest,
And brood with the shades unblest.
Then wild in the dark let the lemurs bark,
And the leprous spires ascend;
For new and old alike in the fold
Of horror and death are penned,
For the hounds of Time to rend.