Mutilation Madness! Every Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!

I'm a bit worried about the youth of today, I think they've all gone a bit weird, I haven't seen half as many of them having wild zombie sex before getting eaten by giant slugs on a remote tropical island whilst chowing down on copious amounts of acid. They mostly hang about outside Newsagents asking you to buy them fags.*

But then again, perhaps I've watched one too many of those skeezy, far out exploitation flicks I've been talking about this week. By far more interesting than these movies however is the accompanying poster/DVD artwork that compels you to buy them for 50 pence in strange smelly "magazine" shops round the back of a Dixons.

In these magic dens, Merlin men from other dimensions who smell like bleach will occasionally proffer advice to you on the best flicks. They have an infinite knowledge of magazines you've never heard of, their covers obscured by black cellophane, sensationally scary titles like "SUCKK" and "ROPES" sticking out the top. They are strange and fascinating places where things that should be forgotten are revered and cherished by obsessives.

It's these abandoned places and abandoned films that has inspired my work this week and as a final dedication to this topic I would like to reveal to you a mock exploitation film poster that I hope you'll enjoy, feast your eyes mortal:

* I took my own life in my hands this week when a 15 year old asked me this in front of his chav mates and I laughed in his face. Luckily he took it well and I was well proud that I'd finally been able to penetrate their language instead of resorting to my usual annoying middle class response of: 'Oh, Sorry old bean! They're awfully bad for you! Ha Ha! Pip pip! Please stop spitting at me and saying I'm a gayer in front of these attractive women! Ho ho!"