Oh man I’ve been there and done that. I was in Utah one year with a full troupe of mormon college kids at Christmas when they do their huge meeting of the minds or whatever it is. They watched it on TV and were 100% transfixed. It was fascinating to watch as an outsider but also intensely boring all at the same time.

Lemee just…lick my eyeballs real quick.

Nature’s dumbest, most disgusting and loveable vacuum cleaner.

Can he step down into a wood chipper next?

I get your point and totally agree that direction isn’t followed NEARLY often enough, but I personally find it to be open to interpretation whether what they encounter is truly “hell” in a biblical sense or just an alternate dimension that can be construed in such a way that anyone who’s ever heard of the concept would define it as hell, and I prefer the latter at least in my own head.

If you look at it through the lens of it not really being Hell Original ™ it becomes almost Lovecraftian, given that everyone who comes into contact with the dimension loses their minds and that the ship itself gains a kind of sentience having just passed through it, but the comparison to Hellraiser is definitely valid given all we see of it is just wanton violence amongst the ship’s original crew, so for all we know it could be straight up Satan driving the boat.

This is the only correct answer here. If you wouldn’t have posted it I would have.

Oh noooooooo

Listen, I like the idea of some blussy as much as the next guy, but not enough to go get my tailgate wrapped.

Typical ghost/demon etc supernatural films and even a lot of sci-fi horror are snoozefests in comparison to Event Horizon because this film really puts it all together on a scale that makes it horrific. It plays with the supernatural angle and actually even explains it in such a way that puts it closer to reality, and then compounds that horror with the crushing isolation, unfamiliarity and unknowability of space.

I really wish there were more movies that got horror THIS RIGHT.

Play to your strengths, Lauren. Maybe it’s time to drop the sad quasipolitical angle and just go pro.

Boy howdy, someone sure did hit The Randomizer ™ to come up with this chucklefuck.

I had to go demonstrate what you’re saying, and yes, 100% possible, but impressively bad situational awareness for sure. The science has been done, thank you for this hypothesis.

So real talk, was this guy trying to wipe with his pants UP? I’m desperately trying to figure out how you’d do this unintentionally.

Every time I’ve ever seen a H&K MK 23 I’ve told myself I’ll own one one day. Ultimate grail status would be with the early, chunky LAM, but I know I might as well wish for a rainbow-farting unicorn. I owned a cheap airsoft MK 23 as a kid, if that’s any proof.

Outside that, a SITES Spectre M4 fully kitted with the foregrip, top-folding stock and coffin magazine. To me it’s the coolest looking of all the traditional SMGs ever produced. I saw one at a gun show years ago and the guy wanted an arm and a leg as expected, but hardly knew a thing about it and it was bare-bones as could be.

Finally, a Mateba autorevolver. Recoil operated, bottom-barreled revolver made in Italy that looks 100% like a space gun? Yes please. I may try to scratch this itch one day with a Chiappa Rhino.

Judge all you want, but my fur-addled brain remembers this video WAY better than I remember the song.

“Honey, I got a killer deal on drywall and by god if I ain’t gonna use it all!”

I used Brave on mobile for a full week about a year or so ago at the suggestion of a coworker before realizing it gave me nothing over Firefox and added the bizarre crypto angle to everything.

This was during my (thankfully brief) crypto interest phase and I tried to see if I could accumulate any of the BAT coins the browser would give you for viewing ads…that never worked somehow so I accumulated zero, which was certainly one thing that led to me getting fed up with it and going back to Firefox.

Beyond that, the interface was weird, it was prone to crashes, and it was generally a hassle. 100% flash-in-the-pan cash-grab effort.

When pls?

“Poorly designed, partially functional software running with substandard hardware and subpar implementation designed by overextended engineers and burnt-out developers led by known megalomaniac malfunctions, local man astonished.”

You have no idea what time it is when shot rings out from the far corner of your old one-room shack, but you know it’s late. Adrenaline surging and ears ringing, you grab the old Colt revolver that sits on the stool beside your straw bed, thinking maybe those cattle rustlers the neighbors had been telling you about have finally got desperate enough to make a move on the property. Your bare feet hit the rough-hewn wood floor and you stumble as quickly as you can to the window, its little glass panes wavy and revealing nothing more than inky blackness. You’re sure you heard the shot, but there’s no signs of life outside save for the crickets that have resumed their song after only a few seconds intermission. You swear you can even smell the gunpowder smoke, but maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, forcing alertness in the deep, lonely night. The adrenaline begins to wear, your limbs starting to ache as they long to go back to their fully interrupted sleep. You take a step to the left to turn from the window and you hear a sickening squelch and feel something squish between your toes that freezes you in your tracks. In the dim light given off by the fire smoldering in the cast-iron stove in the corner, you can tell that whatever it is is an ugly shade of red.

After a minute of silent contemplation, your brain puts it all together and your face quietly contorts into the most violent grimace it can muster. The goddamn trap that bastard salesman outside the general store had sold you down the river on the day before. The one that’d use your spare pistol. Well, he was right, it had worked. Now that rat that had eaten a hole in the corner of your bag of sugar decorates a small section of the wall, the floor, and the bottom of your foot and there’s a warm black crater in the floorboard where it had made its last stand. Hobbling, you traipse outside to wipe your foot in the grass. Right there, you know what you must do. No matter what else, you’re sure that bastard salesman won’t be selling any more of those goddamn traps.