Crimson Cult starring Boris Karloff and Christopher Lee | Horror | movies
I had a super eight regular eight projector and camera and collected Castle Film. In effect, I went to a different shopping center and brought home a non-Castle copy of The Crimson Cult black and white silent 150ft. The other Karloff's I had were Universal's, eg. The Son of Frankenstien, The House of Frankenstien, The Mummy.
I haven't had a copy of the film since and will try to screen it this weekend.
The Terror is a better film than thought and Die Monster Die is better than thought- both have very beautiful women in them.
Please enjoy The Crimson Cult if it is of any interest.
In a way, today I spoke to two women as beautiful as those that starred with Karloff. I was in the store looking for a shirt and a perfect young lady was looking at clothes, browsed for a minute or two longer than I thought she would be. Its possible we've noticed each other before, possible we haven't.She was still there, beneath a painting that read Boston MFA, so I asked if she knew who the painter was. So I spent the evening writing lyric to an instrumental concert I couldn't get out of- all I came up with was "dare I speak, hurry before she leaves, should i tremble faster- entering the perfect stillness".
Then, I went for cigarettes later and the athlete that is 'irresistably pretty' (and there are two if not three,but) was there, so I barrelled in and blurted, "Tattoos" and then "walked off real cool". She seemed like she was with a girlfriend for the evening. I could stare forever. So I made it look like she was busy and that I would be automaticly instantly available, but by dooing that I left out any way of asking her her name. Then she came over, like she did when I was lifting weights. (I've already referred to her as being beautiful in an earlier blog entry). Think a minute: I really did just walk past and say "tattoes", meaning that I not only remember who she was but that the first minute I ever see her again I don't mind telling her that while I was pumping weights I was looking at her curves. actually, its both, she's pretty and built.
I know- it was quick thinking, which is good, and she seemed to be pleased, we just didn't talk. I know- unorthodox, but I really have thought of her since and if I had let her slip through my fingers without confronting it, it wouldn't be how I really need to live. I'd rather her know. And I was suprised how femininely she reacted. Feminine, but after I had in effect intimated to her that she has me and there's no need to continue without my admitting it, meaning she has me no matter what she does next.
Did I say goodnight to anyone equally stunning? Not in so many words. I thought that the night was finished and- don't ask me how but very quietly as I was typing someone found me, but if I were to study her voice and put that together with goddess attributes, I am very glad that I asked the type of question I did. Not the most human-to-human question, but as someone older it did one thing by relating that I really would have appreciated the company- it was an is there anything I can do type question. Honestly, what was so sexually exciting about a damsel in distress other than her being articulate; she was shorter than then athlete, so there's no possible way to compare their bodies other than by saying sex symbols plural. I really don't know what she may have needed, but if you read my earlier blog entries it was a tough week to have the softest, I've describe it that way, things you could think of come near you, I'll word it casually. So not an exact good night, but you wouldn't know how much I literally appreciated being momentarily with them, each a different, but thrilling circumstance- I'm genuinely interested in who they are and where they're going and when I can talk to them again.