Thursday, November 12, 2009

Saturday, September 26, 2009

WHOA! Stop right there! your tracks...

We really want you to read this because it's completely new and different from what you are thinking.

Ready??? Great!
We are selling CadaverGirls.
The whole thing...web site, leftover merch, copyrights to the photos and artwork, bands, domain name, email, blog, myspace, flickr etc.
Because it's time for us to move on to other things.

What can you expect to get if you decide to purchase The CadaverGirls? Dedicated traffic. Dedicated fan base. Dedicated artists. This is a business that is off the ground and ready to be taken to new heights with the right team of people. We have done all the ground work for you and it's a nice neat package. Want to add some click through? Go for it! Want to produce some new merch? Do some photo shoots? Go for it!
And do it with an established name and following...

Please submit any questions and your bid to:

Kay and Amy

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The Great Trade Off

my my. where does the time go? as the stifling heat of summer is killed by a crisp fall wind, i have these moments where i stop, and think, 'how did all this happen?' i could trace my steps from point A to point B, but wouldn't know where to start. All I know is that this time last year, the life I'm living now seemed like some sort of distant fantasy of a life I might someday have. I wake up in the morning knowing that the responsibilities i have are to myself and to the vast, unknowing masses, not to an editor or a deadline. My life as a reporter, while far from over, has changed so drastically that I only now realize what it is that drew me towards journalism in the first place. that need to inform people. a desire to educate and inspire those willing to make the slightest effort, or show the faintest interest. but now, instead of clogging their minds with useless information, i can help them discover a talent, a creative outlet of some kind. a resource they never dreamed could be used to their advantage. it's gratifying to end my days feeling like i've accomplished something, and wondering about the possibilities of another day instead of dreading that story i neglected to write or that meeting that will linger long into the evening. i'm even working on a new photography project that will not only give me a chance to make more art, but to exercise some old demons and discover what's left of some empty spaces, and what it meant when they were once full of life.
I never could have known, one year ago, that i would be here. Providence is not Boston, and I am so grateful, because while i may live in a shitty neighborhood and be living off food stamps and stipend money, i love my little apartment, i love waking up and riding my bike into the city, i love that my job requires me to print and design and write and talk and think. i am NOT just a writing machine. it amazes me, in retrospect, the sheer volume of work i could produce, and still be made to feel like a failure. like i was not performing to some impossible standard. it's clear now, from the kind words of the people i've met, that my work meant something, and there is a part of me that misses the sheer process of writing. the methodical tapping of keys, the stream of thoughts and facts and quotes that made an article become a story. but now, im writing my own story, and right now, it's looking pretty damn good.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


Just when you thought they couldn't do another bad zombie flick! HA HA HA

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

I'm drawing a bloodbath with or without you

Be afraid children. Be very afraid. The Paper Chase has released a new album, and it is indeed horrifying. When the band unleashed their last album on 6/06/06, it was clear that they meant business, and the cover art of a half naked body swinging from the rafters certainly rammed that point home. This was my introduction to the band. I was working at a record store, and everytime i walked past that cover photo, it called to me. so i broke down and bought it. "Now you Are One of Us" played through every speaker i owned and ran through my mind constantly. It was the sound of raw paranoia and maniacal misfortune. With song titles like "we know where you sleep" and "you're one of them, aren't you," and preciously perverse lyrics like "drop on all fours, get down, show me what you're good for," i was instantly intrigued and increasingly fascinated with this music in all it's gory noise and creep-show choruses.
In the three years that have passed, i have attempted to build my collection and increase my knowledge of this black diamond of a band, led by evil genius John Congleton, who spends his non-paper chase time producing albums for a varied list of musicians and composing halloween sound effects CD's. but sometime between then and now, Congleton and crew have pieced together an album of epic proportions that has effectively satisfied my lust for seriously frightening music.
"Someday This Could All Be Yours" is literally the soundtrack to the apocalypse. In ten tracks, the paper chase disect the end of the world in a series of natural disasters while simultaneously exploring the futility of our humble little human lives.
In the face of catastrophic destruction, we are helpless, Congleton argues, and i, for one, would agree. In "I'm going to heaven with or without you (the forest fire)," Congleton, in his sharp, abrasive voice shouts "that little house we made/gets gobbled up by flames." so much for the american dream. the house, the car, the family. all that means nothing when the fire rips through town. it's powerful stuff, but this band has the collective vision and musical talent to not only carry the theme, but amplify it beautifully. the guitars sound like sirens, the drums sound like heavy footsteps chasing you through an empty house and the perfectly timed samples and strings create a ramshackle symphony of found sounds and deep seeded despair.
But don't think this is just gloom and doom. This is sheer terror. The Paper Chase have a knack for somehow making music that truly feels the way it sounds. "Someday This Could All Be Yours" sounds like lightening. it sounds like a tornado, but it feels like fear and defiance. Congleton must have the mind of a screenwriter, because his albums follow a stotyline, from the false hope of an emergency broadcast recording in "What Should We Do With Your Body (The Lightening)," to the empty sound of a disconnected phone line on "Your Money or Your Life (The Comet)." We all know how this story will end. Congleton wants us to hear it in technicolor.
Congleton is the master of the horrifyingly mundane. Typical sounds become terrifying, the familiar is filled with fear. In our own little lives, "he's got the whole world in his hands" should bring comforting memories. In Congleton's hands, it's a painful reminder that whoever is holding this world could crush it at any moment.
This is why I love the Paper Chase. Their sound is sublime in it's raw emotion and unfiltered sense of dread. It's not the kind of music that makes you want to succumb to that fear, but to revel in every minute of it. The Paper Chase is consistently writing the music of the future, even if that future is one of tragedy and devestation. but no matter, i'll be singing all the way to Armageddon.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

The Needle that Sings in her Heart

photo by beth hommel

When you think of high school theater, what comes to mind? give it a minute. ok, now completely forget everything you thought you knew about high school theater. Everyone in the audience at Lexington High School last weekend undoubtedly left with a very different idea of what teenage actors are capable of.
The lovely and radiant Amanda Palmer, formerly of the Dresden Dolls and fresh of a triumphant solo tour, returned to her hometown recently to help create what was surely the heaviest, most intimate and ambitious production ever to grace the xeroxed playbills of Lexington High School. Palmer, a Lexington theater alum, approached her former drama teacher, evil genius Steven Bogart and 20 students with an idea and a copy of one seminal album and said, "let's make some drama, motherfuckers."
And hence, drama was made. The cast wrapped up their weekend long showing of "With The Needle That Sings in her Heart," a play based loosely on the spellbinding album "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" by the mythic Neutral Milk Hotel and the Diary of Anne Frank. A risky and adventurous undertaking, the production explored the artistic process as a means of survival in the face of unspeakable, and often inevitable suffering.
Legend has it that NMH lead singer Jeff Mangum read Anne Frank's testimonial while living in a friends closet, brainstorming the follow up to his band's debut release "On Avery Island." After pouring over the painful account of a young girl's struggle through the Holocause, Mangum became obsessed. He saw specters of the girl in his closet/bedroom, and was haunted by visions of innocence lost in the face of tragedy. The album, like Mangum's mind, is scattered with ghosts and haunting melodies, and lyrics full of fear and fantasy, the perfect springboard for a piece of truly stunning theater.
The exceptional cast dug deep for their inspiration, researching not only the music, but the history to forge the emotional intensity the let loose on the packed auditorium. Death, truth, pain, art, music, family, loss, tragedy and imagination came seeping from the actors. Pure passion personified.
And Palmer, never one to stay quietly in the background, was equally powerful in her largely silent role as ringleader and maestro, emerging from a beautifully designed orchestra shadowbox at center stage to deliver a mood setting musical interlude or an overall sense of dread and foreboding with little more than a steady stare and a well timed gait.
But it was the children, yes, children, who made this show shine. To play Anne Frank in a borderline avant-garde production based on an obscure, indie rock album, is in itself a task to be applauded. But these kids not only acted their hearts out, they also wrote and produced the plot and the script from top to bottom through director Steven Bogart's communal writing process and emphasis on improvisation to discover the emotional meat of complex concepts and ideas. The result, i assure you, was breathtaking and tear-jerking.
The moral of the story, in this writers mind, was that even in the face of inevidable pain and suffering, the one tool, the only weapon we, as human beings have, is our imagination; our ability to be creative. Art as salvation, friends. And while it may not always be enough to overcome the horrors of life, it can offer a fleeting relief, a glimpse of hope in the darkest of hours.
For your viewing pleasure, the final persentation of "With The Needle That Sings in her Heart" staring Amanda Palmer and the Lexington High School drama department is available online at

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Steal Yer Lunch Money

Once upon a time, there was a place called high school. In that now blurred span of four years, it is my guess that many of you Cadaver Girls out there were rowdy, obnoxious, sassy teenage rock and roll machines...I know I was. So one fine day browsing through the rows at my local record store, I found a record that summed up my high school experience in 18 minutes. It was by a band from Palo Alto, California called The Electrocutes, and they were gonna steal my lunch money.
The four faces on the cover looked like a meaner, ruder version of me and my friends, but as soon as I pressed play I knew that these girls were exactly like me and my friends. With poignant lyrics about sabotaging the popular girls and mercilessly stomping on the heads of random rats and bunnies, I felt right at home with these speed metal misfits.
Admit it. there is a time in your life when you can look back and say, "damn, i was obnoxious," and laugh about it. Now, if you somehow had a bitchin' chick band that could wail, how much more obnoxious, and awesome would you have been? It's been many moons since i left the high school wasteland, but a few weeks ago, a few choice cords from "Daquiri Jacquerie" popped into my head, and I gave the old record a spin. It promptly kicked my ass and left me feeling like the little kids on the back cover of the cd case, pushed around in a back alley, shielding myself from the impending doom of a pair of stiletto heels and a hurling trash-can.
Aside from the swift beatdown The Electrocutes gave me upon my return, I took another listen to the words, and instead of being merely giddy with teenage mischief, I heard a feminist undercurrent rumbling in the background that a less thoughtful 16 year old easily missed.
When the girls shout "I can't be your porno! Porno!" I laughed, giggling at the mere mention of it, but now, years later, I sing along proudly. Not to over analyze the screaming of a 16 year old chick band, but the premise of the track "Eggnog" is so refreshing because it blatantly says what very few high school girls say. "You wait! Hey! You wait! I don't wanna wait!" Maybe I'm digging too deep here, but with a few deftly placed and defiantly screamed phrases, The Electrocutes twisted the teenage sex-logic with a fierce and playful aggression that made them far more real and accessible to my young mind that the hyper-charged gender politics of Bikini Kill and Bratmobile, my definition of feminism in my high school days.
I knew, to a point, that The Electrocutes were the meanest girls I'd ever heard on record, but they were also the girls i wanted to party with. They also happened to "evolve" into their more commonly known form as The Donnas, the somewhat tamer, more All American rock band mold. I loved the Donnas, but i was the girl at the show who would scream "Daquri Jacquerie!" to the dismay and confusion of the crowd. But The "Donnas" knew what i meant, even though they never played along.
In that one fleeting album, graciously released by Sympathy for the Record Industry in 1997, I, and my equally obnoxious punk rock friends, learned to revel in our bad attitudes and penchant for lightning fast rock and roll, because high school is the one place where you can get away with it. It's a land where, for the few who realize that the ground they walk on is meant to take a beating, we could stomp our feet and create an unholy racket, because no matter how much high school sucked, we had our headphones and our rock n roll, and that's all we will ever need.


Drag Me To Hell - Official Trailer HD

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

My First Night with Fulci

Ahh, Italy. The land of fine wine, absurdly strong coffee and a film director with a serious fetish for eyeball gouging.
Lucio Fulci, for those of you who are unaware, as I once was, is the madman responsible for some of the most tasteless, and yet most satisfying gore films ever to splatter the silver screen. Until recently, I was one of the ignorant masses, with only the brief knowledge that a Fulci film was a film to be reckoned with. But a dear friend and Fulci aficionado quenched my curiosity with a double feature that blew the blood right out of the bucket for this so-called horror fan.
First Round: Zombi, or, Zombi 2 as it is also know. Seen at first as a Night of the Living Dead rip off, anyone who has studied the grisly black and white classic would immediately see that Fulci's stands on it's own. It's a technicolor bloodbath, 1970's style. The plot, while not admittedly groundbreaking, does feature some amusing tropical island zombies, who are the victim of one mad scientists anecdote gone wrong scenario, but it's Fulci's handiwork and some impressive, though crude special effects that steal the show. 
And the eyeballs. Fulci is obsessed with the eyes. On a philosophical level we all know the eyes are the window to the soul, so when Fulci films in brutal detail a vicious eyeball impalement, we can only put two and two together and conclude that Fulci is a seriously messed up dude. 
Round Two:Beyond. The story of a young New Yorker who inherits a New Orleans hotel, which turns out to be a portal to hell. She is haunted by ghosts and apparitions, and yes, more zombies until, despite her best efforts otherwise, ends up in the vast wasteland of the underworld. Again, not an earth shattering premise, but Fulci's filming is the true story.  The wide angle shot of our heroine's first encounter with her first ghost on a boardwalk is truly haunting, and incredibly beautiful in it's stillness and writhes with menacing implications. Of course, more eye gouging ensues, this time by a pack of bloodthirsty zombie spiders in a scene that made yours truly cringe and giggle with disdain and delight. 
The special effects, while clearly dated in all their Super 8 glory are still sublimely executed, and get this, all the zombie makeup and flesh eating effects were made with simple paper mache. In an age of CGI and heavy latex, Fulci's withering flesh pulp and syrupy blood splatter was incredibly refreshing.
Fulci's career has spanned the better part of the last 40 years, but Zombi and Beyond are certainly high points in a storied history. Like so many before him, Fulci's fame has largely remained  underground, but like the flesh starved undead in his films, have a habit of          slowly rising to the surface, searching for fresh meat to bite into. If you know what's good for you, you'll be the next victim. 


Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Devon's Journal


We are currently looking for a select few people who are serious about their writing.
we will be soon changing some of the formatting, and are looking for someone we can trust and is entertaining. Frequent post are a plus, you can write about most anything, there are no deadlines and or assignments, it is essentially an open
pallet. The only restrictions are that there be no nudity(photos) posted on the blog, and the content try to be in the horror genre,or anything weird, humorous, demented or disgusting. Movies, music (understandably music does have a broad spectrum)directors, makeup artist, books, reviews

Let us know if this is to your interest, this will not be a paying job.
Corpsella also does NOT retain any copyrights to your work, your work is
your work, we do reserve the right to reproduce and or edit in any written
or digital publication.

Please contact us
email :

Serious inquires only and if you can provide a sample or two of your work that would be great.

Women in Horror Trailer!

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Peanut Butter? Where's the Jelly?

Slain Long Island teacher Leah Walsh's allegedly homicidal husband slathered peanut butter on her body before dumping her in a ditch in the hope that wild animals would get rid of the evidence, sources told The Post.

The heinous revelation comes as waitress Donna Lepore, 24, admitted she had an affair with Walsh's husband, William Walsh.

When Leah's naked body was discovered Oct. 29, say Nassau County law-enforcement and medical-examiner sources, she was slathered in peanut butter.

The grisly method of disposal was only partially effective, said sources. The corpse was found by a worker from the North Hills Country Club in a wooded area about 50 feet from the westbound Long Island Expressway.

Detectives are looking into whether accused killer William had help in preparing the body for disposal and dumping it, a source said.

Cops say William, 29, confessed to strangling his wife during a 3 a.m. fight Oct. 26 over his infidelities. He dumped her body, set things up to appear like she had been abducted, and made emotional pleas for her return, investigators said.

Lepore, a steakhouse waitress, says she had an affair with William but broke things off a year ago.

"Just because I had a past with him doesn't mean I know anything," she told The Post.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

March 27th, 2009 let the Invasion begin!

March 27th, 2009 let the Invasion begin!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009


The franchise that floated “torture porn” into news offices this decade like a message in a bottle now looks to join the endless straight-to-DVD knockoffs it spawned. We’re speculating that Hostel 3 will bypass a theatrical release, but Bloody Disgusting has confirmed that early talks have started inside Lionsgate/Screen Gems to make a second sequel a reality. The series’ creator/director/spokesperson, Eli Roth, will reportedly not serve as writer
or director on the sequel. We expect him to update his MySpace with an endorsement or a rant soon enough, and if so, we’ll update accordingly.
his latest:

Inglourious Basterds Teaser

Monday, January 26, 2009

Mutilation murder suspect asks court to hang him without delay


Prosecutors demanded Monday that a 34-year-old man be hanged for murdering a 23-year-old woman and mutilating and dumping her body. ‘‘It was a brutal and cruel crime, and there is no possibility that the defendant will be rehabilitated,’’ they told the Tokyo District Court, seeking the death penalty for Takanori Hoshijima. ‘‘The defendant must pay for his crime with death.’’

Hoshijima told the court, ‘‘Please hang me without further delay.’’ He had pleaded guilty and said that he ‘‘intends to apologize by accepting the death penalty.’’ Hoshijima forced Rurika Tojo into his apartment with the aim of sexually assaulting her on the night of April 18 and stabbed her to death with a kitchen knife, the indictment said. Between April 19 and May 1, he mutilated the body, flushed some body parts down the toilet and dumped others in the apartment’s garbage space, according to the indictment.

The court will deliver its verdict on Feb 18.