I’m a no-holds barred kind of girl. I’m willing to post anything and everything if it amuses me. But today, I was clicking around on some links and found the poster to Hostel II, the sequel to my favorite torture-porn of 2005, Hostel, and I gotta say, I can’t, I can’t post the poster because my stomach is still churning from when I first viewed it. [Nay, my fragile little mind is still screaming, freaking out, wondering what the fuck it just saw, and refusing to believe it.] When I first heard about this film, I thought, “goddammit, why do they need a fucking sequel?” But check out the plot of the film:

While studying art in Rome for the summer, three young American women are lured away to a Slovakian hostel by a model from their class. Soon they will experience the grim reality their weekend getaway has in store.

American chicks in white tank-tops and no bras running away from bad bad men who want to chop them up to little pieces. Of course! That’s what Torture Porn is all about, after all! But this poster… Oh Science… Click if you dare. I’m telling you, children, it’s pretty goddamn gross… I mean… WHAT IS THAT SHIT? I have my suspicions on what I believe it is, but… no, I refuse to contemplate it further. I’m already going to be having nightmares for weeks because I looked at the damned thing once. I think I’m going to be a vegetarian from now on. Damn you, Eli Roth! You are a very, very sick man. Marry me!

The first chapter of All Together Dead is up on Charlaine Harris’ website. There’s tons of Eric goodness. Check this out:

Despite the fact that the room was full of people waiting for his attention, Eric lay down his pen and stood to stretch his tall and magnificent body, perhaps for my benefit. As usual, Eric was in tight jeans and a Fangtasia T-shirt, black with the white stylized fangs that the bar used as its trademark. […]

Eric made the shirt look good, and I remembered all too well what was underneath it.

Fan girl squee! It smells like hope and vampire politics, children. What fun! I think Ms. Harris may be throwing a bone for us Eric-Sookie shippers. We gotta come up with a shipper name. Sooric? Erkie? Ickie?

Oh and speaking of totally addicting authors, I swiped this from Mrs. G’s blog. It made me laugh, scream in agony, claw out my own eyes, then laugh again. Apparently, according to LKH:

I seem to have started a sub-genre. Is it paranormal romance, gumshoe fantasy, urban fantasy romance? No one’s really come up with that perfect phrase. If we could just come up with something as cool sounding as cyberpunk, but alas, I don’t know what to call it either. My books read more like hard-boiled mysteries, or horror novels in tone of writing, but the romance and the magic is most definitely there, too. What do I write? What I want to read. Isn’t that what all writers write?

I’ll answer that for you, Ms. Hamilton. You write crap. You write badly written fanfic porn crossed with dogshit. The only thing “hard-boiled” about the Anita Blake series is the rotten egg smell that permeates from each sex scene. And the “mystery” part is why we keep buying your books (I’m the first to admit that I’m addicted to it). For fuck’s sake, get over yourself. May I suggest industrial-strength therapy or a visit to websites dedicated to bashing your work for a reality check?