Upvoted for 'rigamarole'.

I believe that's a line from The Dead Poo.

I've also got a retractable nozzle, but rather less than 4000 reviews.

Paint my fence!

MySpace - bought by Rupert Murdoch in July '05 for $580 million, and sold in June'11 for $35m. Couldn't happen to a nicer human cancer.

Yes, that was the one. There was also that scene of Catman sending the doll back to the makers and having to put it in a full-size crate, which was really unsettling.

Yes, when he's scrambling backwards over the burning coals, Nasty looking burns and blisters on his hands…. eek…..

'Break out the tissues.' You sick bastards, there's no way I'm having a wank during that documentary.

Yamete, that's an awful lots of 'hates' and 'fucks' and a little too much gushing. Have you ever thought about turning it down just a little?

I always try and watch the original 1974 Black Christmas every couple of years, usually on Xmas Eve, a fine antidote in the middle of all the yo-ho-ho-ing. More pressingly Ignatiy, I'm simply eaten with jealousy that you know someone not only with a 35mm projector but also access to prints. Not Joe Dante is it?

You're still finding it days afterwards.

I want a character called Darth Nader, who complains about how dangerous the light sabres are, especially those double-ended buggers.

I realise it would be upsetting but why would it break your fireplace?

I liked it because it was simply a horror film, cutting out the puns and stupid gags and avoiding making Chucky the 'anti-hero'. He's back to being a murderous, psychotic doll…

There was a Talking Tina gimmick account round here for a while. Still oddly unsettling.

There was a documentary about guys with RealDolls, and believe me it was alternately hilarious, touching and utterly terrifying. Possibly saddest was the guy who had two and who set up a camera and photographed himself with them doing really innocuous things, like drinking coffee together, or looking at maps like they…

Devil Doll is actually a pretty creepy little film, even if it's just an extended version of the magnificent Michael Redgrave segment of Ealing's Dead Of Night, which I first saw on late night TV when I about ten years old and which scared me entirely excrement-free.

*whisper*'……it wasn't a kid…..' [Sudden flash of lightning, roll of thunder, synth sting]

So how many women does Hirsch hit in this one?

So it brought back good mammaries?