As the cowboys say, howdy and welcome to Count Tiffany Glaze’s latest Studio 8 Media Review. For those who aren’t familiar with my work, please know that I’ve been offering my expert opinions on movies, Treasure Trolls, horoscopes, fast food chains, and all sorts of other things for nearly twenty years now. You may have seen my work in such publications as Godly Skanks Magazine, Newsweek (for Babies), The Corn Tri-Monthly, and The Weekly Willy Wonka Fan Club Newsletter. And of course, if you haven't read any of these publications, please imagine that I never told you about them.

Since last month's review of Freddy and Jason Fighting was so well received, this week I will be reviewing another horror movie, Cabin Fever, which will hit theaters this Friday, September 12. First let's start off this thing with some nice, hearty MOVIE SPOILERS:

1. This movie has people in it.
2. Things happen during the movie.
3. Everybody dies at the end.

       The manner in which I screened this movie is a fantastic tale in and of itself. I should preface this tale with this statement: As my notoriety and fame grows on this terrible website, I have been steadily rising through the ranks of celebrities and other popular people. This is rather exciting to me.

     Several people in my house have recognized me recently. A man took my picture whilst I was rummaging through his flowerbed. And just last week, I was approached by another man who handed me a small green Bible that was perfectly suited for fitting in my pocket to help the pants pockets keep their pocket-y shapes. So, Hollywood, New York, Count Tiffany has arrived, I guess.

     Anyway, the perk of being famous is getting free stuff, which I recently received in the form of several free movie tickets good for any movie at any local cinema. These tickets were hand-written by me and placed inside of my mailbox by myself in the wee hours of a rather dramatic and forgetful night that I don't want to talk about anymore.

     So I will fast forward in time and skip ahead to me taking my disgusting seat at the disgusting Movie-Plex Cinema Theater 24 in downtown. That event itself was something that curdled the delectable contents of my stomach and turned my eyebrows upside down, to say the most. A bad start indeed for Cabin Fever. Right away, I started composing this media review in my head and it was sounding a lot like it does right now.

     After 20 minutes of commercials for things like sodas, cars, and being nice to other people, I was about ready to go home. But first, I just had to get my hands on some nachos or pizza. You know, something with chili in it.

     Luckily, there was a child eating some nachos a few rows in front of me. After leaning over the seats and sneezing into the nachos (as well as shoving the child harshly onto the cement floor), I was able to procure the nachos for myself. And boy, was that a big mistake!

     At the risk of sounding like someone who reviews movies for a living, let me say this: Cabin Fever is gross! How, you ask? Well, the first scene had these terrible red-colored titles scribbled across it, announcing things like the director and the actors and such. Well, I think it was a mixture of the annoying font they used, the stupid child and his stupid parents screaming directly in front of me, and the general discomfort of being amongst common people, but whatever it was, it made me vomit everywhere!

     I know, how mature of me to do that in the middle of a movie. Well, I don't require you to judge me like that every moment of my life, ok? I'd like to continue with this movie review, if you don't mind. Thank you.

So I managed to splash a little of my vomit onto the mean people who were yelling at me about the child's worthless nachos, which made them be quiet (they left the theater). I didn't want to finish the movie at this point, so I retrieved a flashlight from a passing usher and spent the next hour and a half studying all of the multi-colored fluids that I had spewed about the place.

Brownie Bites, ham sandwich pieces, pineapple rum cake frosting, turnip green tips, rhubarb sauce, and chutney chips swam in an ocean of mysterious clear liquid that seemed to run all over the place when I pushed it with the tips of my shoes and the sides of my hands.

Several nearby movie patrons began arguing with me about my behavior, which I ignored for the most part. One man dumped his popcorn on me, which I found had a rather neat side-effect when I noticed how the popcorn pieces acted like hundreds of tiny sponges soaking up the vomit.

Yes, it's sad to say, but that was the highlight of this movie - my vomit being sponged up by a bunch of popcorn nuggets. Hollywood, you can do better. Shame, shame. And to all of you who are not mature enough to deal with a man who has a scientific fascination with the slimy bile and burp-ups that come from his very own throat, get a life. Also, visit my section of this site next month to read about a very good movie that I am going to see when it comes out. It's called Count Tiffany the Celebrity: Lost in New York: An Adventure in LA. I'm going to try and write it and film it within the next few weeks or so. Bye!