Rising in the midst of being eaten is a totally common thing—that's why there's tons of undead wandering around with missing innards and / or limbs. And once the change happens, the devouring ghouls get disinterested and leave mid-meal.

There was an American film in 1980 called The Children with a similar plot.

Crazy as it may seem to your sensibilities, some women ask for anal for their own pleasure.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:

And here's a goofy tidbit I'm posting just because it cracks me up:

My Robert Englund Story:

I'm a regular con rat, and oh, do I have stories!

It is an absolutely amazing opening. Fantastic.

Has anybody christened the druggie "Johnny Derp" yet?

I've never met anybody that liked Goodfeathers, either, so there's that.

You are the only person I've ever encountered who enjoyed Chicken Boo.

For slasher Michael Myers goodness, I like #1 and #7. You can shoehorn in #2, but, meh.

It's always the Celebrity Guest Star.

I'm boggled that "Smoke" (Season 13, ep 24, 2003) didn't get mentioned, as it's The One That Addressed The Michael Jackson Molestation Hoopla.

My 72-year-old, fuddy-duddy mother blindsided me the other day by announcing how much she loves Jimmy Fallon and his show.

Ventriloquism is a lost art.

Except for The Gay AIDS. That… was a regrettable thing.

Man. I would've sat next to you on the bus, so we could share headphones while huddled over a Walkman listening to the hippity-hop.

Oh, you mean the way I adore sleuthing redheads with purple scarves, or buxom draculadies who host monster movies, or foxy be-afro'd vixens who stick it to The Man with kung-fu and shotguns?

I think you are completely, utterly weird in this gripe, and it's clear you don't consume enough genre comics (Moore reference aside), novels, or movies.