Hey, it's our old friend Coughin' Joe, the star of such classic pieces of shit as this. And this. I had forgotten how irritating he was. Not really. This kicks off with some of the ugliest women I've ever seen and a bunch of shirtless dipshits jitterbugging like idiots while guys wearing Steven Wright masks and/or plastic tits spy on them from behind potted plants.

You know, I'm starting to get the feeling this isn't going to be a very good movie.

Eventually Joe pops out of his coffin and starts ranting about the "wideness of the gloom" and some other incoherent bullshit. God I hate this asshole so much. Finally a story does start though: seems ol' Coughin' is running a ratbag hotel that attracts mostly heinous, rogue bitches and hippies. I was hoping his scheme was to kill every single one of them, followed by himself, but as it turns out this is yet another one of those flicks where everyone is already dead, and I assume they're supposed to be in Hell because I know I sure was. There's some card playing; some smoking; some contract signing; the most unlikely motorcycle accident in movie history; the camera guy reflected in a car window; an orgy that doesn't involve a single person of either sex who would rate higher than a 2 (warning: when you see this part, you WILL puke); Coughin' Joe spouting off his trademark retard gibberish ("Better the dung of life than life in a worm... a worm that cannot die because it does not exist."); and, as usual, every fat, hideous, repulsive skank this clown could round up. Seriously, I have never seen someone so obsessed with unfuckable women. There are only two decent-looking chicks in this entire movie, and I don't doubt for a minute that they ended up there by accident.

Breaking the title down into like its component parts, I guess you could call it strange, there is a hostel, and some people do get naked. But pleasure? Not so much.