Film and Loathing in Los Angeles

Many moons ago, a very good friend of mine and I sat in the living room of my Hollywood Hills apartment, dropped a shitload of acid and proceeded to subject ourselves to an experience so psychically transformative that, to this day, we speak of it with equal parts reverence and revulsion.

That experience was a movie called Tribulation 99: Alien Anomalies Under America.

I will in no way attempt to explain the onslaught of unrelenting insanity contained on that 85 minutes of film, I'll only say this: if, by some miracle, you can find this brilliant, terrifying gem tucked away in the back of your local comic book shop or cult video store, grab it immediately.

Steal it if you have to; I did.

I promise you, you will never -- NEVER -- be the same once you've seen it.

And you know what? Just for the hell of it -- a couple of little bonus features from that particular evening's film selections:








At least I think that's what we watched; for all I know, it could've been all in our heads.

This, by the way, should explain everything about the way I am today.