Frightmare (1974)

dir. Pete Walker


"Your mother's a very sick woman...she's had a serious relapse I'm afraid."
-Edmund Yates

Procrastination's a bitch. When it comes to writing, my passion, time-wasting has always been my Achilles heel. When someone else depends on me to get something done, I am slightly, but not completely, better at avoiding my procrastinating tendencies. For some reason, when it comes to something I care about, something I really want to do and do well, forcing myself to actually complete the task is an almost herculean ordeal.

I have many methods of avoiding getting stuff done. My DVD collection is quite a help. "Wow, I haven't listened to any of the Freaks and Geeks commentary tracks in some time. I'll put a few of those on."

Like most any other procrastinator, of course, I also surf the web. Although I invariably get stranded in youtube and The Huffington Post, I also enjoy other such sites as Accidental Dong, Sexy People, and Awkward Yearbook Signatures. After getting trapped in the production eliminating zone of the internet it is damn near impossible to escape.

One usual procrastination remedy is to open up a word document and shit out some words—whatever comes out of me. In addition to getting my brain in a writing mode, these stream of consciousness writing sessions occasionally produce some interesting stuff, which I end up using later. Sometimes, however, I just can't force myself to complete even this simple task. It's a wonder I ever get anything done.

My writin' procrastinatin' is not new, of course. Although I love it now, I used to loathe writing. Back in the day, my procrastination stemmed from a deep-seated hatred of this task. In college, my writing process always followed these simple steps:

1. Receive writing assignment with a due date of three weeks later.

2. Tell myself, "This time I ain't gonna dick around. I'll start working on it tonight and finish it tomorrow so that I have plenty of time to proofread the bitch."

3. Go to film department's writing lab/huge movie library with the intention of writing said paper.

4. Search the library's movie database. Tell myself, "Wow they have a lot of Bunuel movies here."

5. Watch two to three movies on one of the TV's in the writing lab/huge movie library.

6. Leave midway through last movie, as the writing lab is now closing.

7. Go to dorm room with the intention of performing heavy research for paper.

8. Masturbate.

9. Repeat steps three through eight until 11:00 pm of the day before the paper's due date.

10. SON OF A BITCH!

11. Go to the other writing lab—that of the 24 hour, non-movie-viewing-accessible variety.

12. Quickly splooge out haphazard, inscrutable introductory and concluding paragraphs.

13. Puke out unintelligible middle paragraphs until I either a) pass out or b) reach the page limit.

14. Print out the paper and head back to my dorm for a quick couple hours of sleep before class.

14. Miss my alarm clock and thus miss class and the due date.

15. GODDAMMIT!

In unrelated news I recently watched Pete Walker's British horror film Frightmare, one nasty bitch of a picture. Containing equal parts Bette-Davis-at-the-end-of-her-career-campy-evil-old-lady-villain-type-movie-shenanigans and straight up, no holds barred, down and dirty gore sleaze, Frightmare is a yet to be rediscovered gem.

[The trailer:]


Dave's Rating: