Wednesday, April 12, 2017

"My Brother was Eaten by Wolves on the Connecticut Turnpike."

Welcome to the Hotel Barbarian!
You can check out any time you like.
But you can never leave. 



"Hotel rooms are just naturally creepy places, don't you think? I mean, how many people have slept in that bed before you? How many of them were sick? How many were losing their minds?"
My father told me that my mother got knocked up a couple of years before I was born and then had a miscarriage and if not for that I would have not been born. Thanks for the nothing you guzzler of strawberry douche! This whole post is a Stephen King knock off. Just so you know! And the "brother eaten by wolves" is written on the wall of the room he stays in until the room eats him instead.  

22 comments:

mulderfan said...

Hated that movie!!!

q1605 said...

I think it is great. Did they pass over David Duchcovny when they cast the lead? It's just like a night at my moms's. All you friends are dead Doug! All your friends are dead! And if I can get your wife here she will be dead too. Mom!........ you're just like my dad. He shot the wrong person and you drove off the wrong wife.

Joan S said...

I grew up stuck on a farm, unable to leave. Its normal for me to have a case of agorophobia, I mean I was raised with it, there was a bible study in town I could have went to in town, but I avoided it completely last night. Hubby and I had a disagreement, or quarreled just before he went on nightshift, and I got stuck in that feeling. He keeps asking me if I checked the woodstove, I know he's just hypervigilant about it, but for me, he keeps asking me, makes me feel confused, then I have to think of when I checked it last, although I keep the woodstove.

Did you find weird the part of the movie where we all thought he had escaped, washed up to the shore, then the story went on from there, then much time later he was back in the room again? I thought that part genius. It was like when my mother would turn "normal".

q1605 said...

Yeah! For me it dredges up the dismal existence my mother had foisted on us. All the acts of violence and horror we endured because of her lackadaisical thinking about how what she did might effect us. I was always hoping to wake up and find out it was all a dream. I still do but I wake up in the morning and slowly realize it wasn't and my memory is all real and nothing is going to change it. I love how in what he thought was his old normal existence he would see things that clued him in to what was about to happen. Like seeing the lady who jumped out the window and seeing the bell boy from the hotel just before he slipped back to what was now his new reality. I also like how in the end he torches the room with this screw you look on his face. THAT part reminds me of how I went NC with my mother. I told her she was inches from making a clean getting out of this world and she just couldn't do it. She just had to go out yanking peoples chains. So I made her the pariah she wanted to make me. Speaking of chutzpah. I had a premeditated murderer giving me shit about smoking pot. I just couldn't let that one go. So I metaphorically lobbed a lit bottle of scotch at her and her bullshit life. I guess most people would see her as having the last laugh. But I see her as offering definitive proof of what a mean and crazy bitch we spent our lives with. I didn't want her blood money anyway.

mulderfan said...

Barb most likely never gave a single thought, lackadaisical or otherwise, to how her actions would impact on the lives of others. Narcs really don't give a single fuck about anyone but themselves.

q1605 said...

If you notice when he wakes up on the beach there is a plane flying over pulling a banner with a phone number. The last four digits are 1408! So you know it's about to get good.

q1605 said...

Yeah! Mulderfan. I was just thinking that last night. How she was a one way drain on every resource we had and when it came time for her to give something back she was all about the what have you done for me lately. You could give blood for her and her tossing you a twenty was supposed to even it up.

q1605 said...

M-Fan Did you hate that movie in a good like it "scares the shit out of me" way or bad as in it was a shitty movie way? I might be biased to it being a movie based on a Steven King writing but they captured on film some of what I remember as a kid and what having a night mare while running a fever is like.

q1605 said...

My last comment is a perfect example of why I never get to the end of my mothers trail of garbage. One year before my father snuffed it(remember I could always tell the start of a new school year because my mother always worked up a summer romance and picked that September to spring it on him) but the year before I came home from school only to be dumped unceremoniously at my grandmothers and while I was there I came down with the worst case of influenza I have ever had. I went from a 98.6 fever to 104 in about 2 hours and just got sick sick sick. And sicker still. My grandmother told my parents that I was as sick as she has ever seen a kid get on such short notice. Looking back I am surprised they bothered to step over me in their drama. I was laying on my grandmothers floor and I expected them to kick me as they walked by and their drama engulfed us all.

Five Hundred Pound Peep said...

I had to look up the movie never heard of it. I couldn't watch it, I freak out about being locked up somewhere, [those who have read my blog long term KNOW WHY] and the concept would bug me with annoyance and horror. Triggery moments of memories grinding at a door lock and trying to pick locks at age 4 actually come to my mind more times then I want to admit. Too much claustrophia, I am glad [spoiler warning] he gets out by burning the damn hotel room down. I read Wickipedia. LOL.

Five Hundred Pound Peep said...

Joan I get claustrophic if too far out in the country, like "how in the hell am I going to get out of here?" I used to have those feelings visiting N grandma. Can understand the effect on you. I remember once being stuck out in the "children of the corn" corn fields, too young to drive, and grandma wouldn't take me anywhere, back then I could walk for miles but I was still trapped. During my adult life, I always lived within 5 miles of whatever small town's downtown I lived in and on the bus lines, even in the most rural place Ive ever lived {dial a rides} I sometimes wonder if some relatives had their brains rotted living too far out. {hope I don't offend anyone here, with that...:(]

q1605 said...

I grew up on a farm. But it was close enough to Dallas there was always a jet flying over and you could be in a fairly populated area in just a few minutes. I had a cabin in East Texas and it got way too quiet. No cars no Lights No sounds. I got behind on the payments and sold it to the ex for bottom dollar. She's more citified than me so she didn't like it much either. She knew I had it and her favorite hobby is/was to take other peoples stuff. And so it go's! First your money and then your clothes.

Five Hundred Pound Peep said...

glad your childhood farm wasn't too far out. If your psycho mother had the advantage of being way out in the sticks watch out. I used to hear "deliverance" and "incest" horror stories about the most remote corner of some of the rural counties I have lived in. One time this creepy guy I dated a few times drove me through a hidden "shack" town. My state has some really weird places to it. People are naive about how some people live. I am not talking "river rats" but people living in literal shacks, not cabins either that would be up a few grades. That was in the 1990s and it wasn't a tent city it was an established place. Yeah some places are too quiet and out there. Yeah she took it just to get it from you even though she didn't like it, sick...

q1605 said...

My mom had no boundaries what so ever. Let me put it like this. She would go to prison today just for what she did to me.

q1605 said...

I've really told nobody about my mothers grabsy handsy way of handling her son and I use that word in a minimalist way...... handling...... her son. But so far no one I have told has made me regret my decision to be more candid about it so I am going to be more candid about it. Maybe if it helps people realize boys can get molested by women it will be worth it.

Five Hundred Pound Peep said...

Doesn't surprise me she was a sexual abuser too, to go along with her sociopathy. I read some painful stories on ACON message boards, it's an unreported problem with these monsters.

q1605 said...

Peep, I knew you would "get it" if you read back it's laced all through my blog. Like I say she humped EVERY guy that came in the door. I meant EVERY guy. I would say she always said "we all know little boys like it anyway they can get it". I was with her when Mackenzie Phillips was on TV talking about having sex with her father and I was squirming like a prostitute in church, but not her. She didn't give an F. I confronted her in my NC phone call and of course she denied it. That's why I put that description up to you about the mask of sanity's analysis. They are almost asexual. Just animals humping away. I really was no worse for the wear, murders, incest, all in a days work when you live with a crazy person. My fathers death is the only long lasting heart breaker for me. The rest of her victims can burn in hell with her and my ex.

Bess said...

I tend to be atheistic, but goddamn, I have to believe in hell because people like your mother exist. She created hell on earth, so it must follow her to whatever place her essence goes, and the tables are turned. She would have to be like Hitler in Little Nicky, forced to choose the biggest fucking pineapple to have shoved up her ass by demons, daily.

q1605 said...

Bess, to me there must be some sort of retribution to balance accounts. It would just be so unfair to think she died and got a free ride on her evil. I tend to be agnostic in my atheism. It doesn't seem right to think she gets to go into the great wide open and be unrepentant to the end. If you have seen that movie "Them lovely Bones" where Stanley Tucci at least has an ice cycle that falls on his head and makes him fall off the cliff to his death. I would subscribe more to religion if they didn't advocate that I hate people I love and to hate my neighbors.

Bess said...

I want to have a belief system... Some people seem to get great comfort from theirs. I guess I should say I'm in an atheistic phase. It's more true to say I'm an agnostic who picks my own beliefs from all the organised and not so organised religions. But above everything else, I want to believe what goes around comes around.

After my mom died, I heard the Eagles' Best of My Love a fucking zillion times on the radio and started to feel harassed by mom. I told her I get it and to knock it the fuck off.

q1605 said...

That's funny about the Eagles song. All the shit I gave my mother in writing her letters telling her to fuck off all sort of came back on me. In the end I really started to wonder if God had granted her an all access pass to this world from the other side and gave her a huge magnifying glass so she could fry me like an ant on the side walk. I just heard a line on a movie last night where a deeply religious mathematician gave his atheist friend shit about being an atheist. He said you believe in a god you just think he hates you. I think my atheism falls close to that philosophy.

q1605 said...

Another thing about the eagles song Bess. I signed off on a mothers day card to my mother in the 70's with the tag line of that song. This was before it dawned on me she should be studied in a lab as opposed to treated like a family member.