...you first heard about the
original version of Bob Clark's
Black Christmas which, instead of detailing the
exploits of a stab-crazy wackadoo stalking girls in a sorority house, was about teeny tiny naked chicks trapped inside glass holiday ornaments, where they doze the years away as they float forever in a red-hued negative zone?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxQCgiaHQrU1AZuMot6aQcZI7iX5TipbZphWughIcKnzeVDiN-34gNX-D8CnQnOYcPqm7K736wEuko_ngNUoW5QSWZ5kiGkQ76QQxg1XYjQcUYUBJpqHlkXPqoL8EkXjS2gwhYQ/s400/bc_ball.jpg)
Yeah, me too. I shuddered
so hard.
4 comments:
Man...my Christmas tree will seem forever incomplete as long as I do not have one of those.
Whisky tango foxtrot, indeed. I hope that graphic artist is safely locked in an asylm where he belongs.
People used to be happy with putting a toy boat in a bottle. Now this.
Dr. Pretorius would approve.
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