Anyone familiar with my previous "Survivor" rambles will know that I'm an unashamed viewer of reality TV, as long as it doesn't involve dating or plastic surgery.

So it will come as no surprise I was ensconced on the sofa Tuesday, listening to some of the most godawful manglings of Elton John songs ever perpetrated as the "American Idol" contestants went through their paces. After one particularly execrable performance, Simon Cowell compared the singer's effort to Ed Wood's "Plan 9 From Outer Space."

This came after an afternoon chat with a co-worker during which two "Rowdy" Roddy Piper films, "They Live" and "Hell Comes To Frogtown" were topics of conversation.

And during the conversation, "When Worlds Collide" was playing on cable.

So you'll understand why we're discussing movies this week, specifically those ones that lodge in the mind for one reason or another. In my collection, these are called Mongo Movies, after my alter ego who on occasion takes control of my body and, copious munchies in hand, begins throwing DVDs into the player at random.

There are several categories of Mongo Movies. First among them are the Classic Bads. These are the films like "Them!" and "The Beginning of The End" that for their time were terrifying, even in some cases groundbreaking ... but in this era of CGI and 70 mm projection seem beyond trite. They were frequently fodder for some cracking good "Mystery Science Theater 3000" episodes, many of which I also have on DVD. The ones that played on those great old Cold War fears of nuclear mutation and/or Armageddon are highly prized. The entire "Godzilla" film catalog, including the Gamera flicks, fall into this category.

Then we have the Modern Bads, including the entire film catalogs of Full Moon and Troma films. My all-time favorite of these is the aforementioned "Hell Comes To Frogtown." You just can't go wrong with Sandahl Bergman in nurse's whites and mutated frog-people. "Killer Klowns From Outer Space" is another highly worthy addition, as are the "Re-Animator" films. I've long lusted after a Miskatonic University sweatshirt.

We also have the "Anytime" category, meaning the movies I'll flip to any time I see them on cable. Most of these are moderns, like "The Fifth Element, "Blade Runner," "The Blues Brothers" and "Poltergeist."

Finally come the "Cult" flicks, like "Plan 9," "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," "Twin Peaks," "Dune" and any film mentioned in the opening song of "Rocky Horror," such as "When Worlds Collide." These are movies that bring screaming back the memories of long, semi-conscious hours spent in video rooms at science fiction conventions, trying in vain to catch a wink or two between fan panels and gaming sessions. Ah, those were the days.

Why am I giving this supremely self-indulgent tour of my movie collection? Because I'm at long last getting BORED. I'm sure some of you out there have some favorite movies that I haven't seen. Click here and tell me about them! Summer is coming, and without adequate filmed entertainment I might actually have to go outside and sweat, which would be highly distasteful.

Beat The Bunny

Families attending the Glassport Assembly of God's Easter program were shocked to see the Easter bunny being beaten and Easter eggs being smashed as part of the show.

One parent who attended the show said a drunken man and a self-mutilating woman were also portrayed as part of the "festivities."

Word that Billy Bob Thornton was in the crowd taking notes for a sequel to "Bad Santa" could not be confirmed.

Whatever happened to traditional holiday celebrations, where you'd go to church, eat candy 'til you heaved and miss at least two hidden eggs that would be "found" when they started to reek after a couple of weeks?

Just Drive, He Said

One of the solid citizens in Lenoir County, N.C., will be cooling his heels in the county lockup for the next six months. It seems that Anthony Gene Moore, 36, became annoyed that a crop-dusting plane's noise was interrupting his enjoyment of a televised NASCAR race, so he fired off three shots at the plane.

One round lodged in the plane's battery, causing it to explode. The pilot managed to land his wounded bird at a nearby airstrip, and authorities were quickly able to track the origin of the bullets.

Moore, who (SURPRISE!) had been drinking, admitted to authorities that he had let off the shots.

I see you out there, all of you, expecting me to go off on a "drunken redneck" tangent, stereotyping NASCAR fans left and right. Not a chance, chums! One of my best pals on the planet makes time every year to attend the Daytona 500, and while it's not my cup of tea, it IS a fantastic excuse to engage in the time-honored practice of drinking large quantities of beer while sitting on my couch.

Damien, Is That You?

A town in Sicily, off the Italian mainland, is considering calling in an exorcist after a rash of fires traced to electrical appliances in homes. Why an exorcist? Because the electric utility has cut off power to the town.

Theories have run rampant, covering everything from arsonists to power surges to current jumping from train tracks running through town. However, some townsfolk have abandoned these allegedly rational explanations in favor of drawing a supernatural line in the sand and calling in the God squad to run out the electrical imps.

Of course, such a thing could never happen here in the United States, with our advanced power grid and *bzzt*

I welcome your comments, complaints, stories and professions of undying love. Large cash grants are also accepted. Just click here, type and send.

Previous Stories:

• April 2, 2004: Sweating Like An Oldie
• March 12, 2004: Put It In Writing
• March 5, 2004: The Sporting Way
• Feb. 27, 2004: It's A Cat's Life
• Feb. 13, 2003: For Love Of Munchies
• Feb. 6, 2004: Fallen Idols And Flying Wings
• Jan. 30, 2004: Surviving The (NFL) Experience
• Jan. 23, 2004: I'm Eating, Here!
• Jan 16, 2004: Disturbing The Peace