A Halloween Love Affair

The horror! The horror!

Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness

Tomorrow’s October. And October brings with it a few of my favorite things.

  • Fall in AZ
  • My Birthday (because I get cake)
  • HALLO-FUCKING-WEEN

 

CAPS LOCK in that last bullet has a very good reason. I love Halloween. I love horror. Every year, around the first of October my blood lust begins to kick in. I faithfully tune into Bravo’s 100 Scariest Movie Moments Countdown even though I’ve seen it just under a baker’s dozen. It’s my biological clock. I crave horror. I want to sit on the couch for hours and watch gore.  All types of horror flicks get me going – psychological, aliens, slasher. Sometimes I just have the hankering for a good ol’ fashioned disemboweling.

Small or large intestine. Your choice.

The thrill of terror is something I must have, especially in October. Watching a horror movie when I’m home alone is something I don’t even balk at.

I’m not sure where my love of horror came from. It was probably bred and nurtured when my mom locked me in the closet every night and made me rearrange the heads on Barbie Dolls. I called Ken “daddy”.

Kidding.

I think it was – and I’m gonna brag a bit – because I really didn’t have a lot of boundaries as a kid. My sister, my cousin and I would rent movies with no parental consent whatsoever. Hey, 1990, you rocked. Cashier, scanning up that R-rated movie for a bunch of 12-year-olds, you are what makes America proud. Keep doin’ what you do.

I still remember popping in the Silent Night, Deadly Night VHS and sitting terrified but managing to finish the whole movie.

They…they get presents right?

14-years-old, watching Species with your dad and five of his work buddies, no biggie right?

Well, nothing awkward about this.

The auto erotic strangulation scene in B-movie Devil Fish was one of the highlights of my youth.

The movie that made Jaws weep.

My cousin and I called placed bets on who we thought were the serial killers in our neighborhood.

Serial killer if I’ve ever seen one.

So yeah. Let’s get off my freakish childhood tangent before everyone starts to wonder even more about my childhood years (The Library, Candlestick, Mrs. White, but get off my back, OKAY?).  Everything horror is always welcome. But it’s not just the movies that make Halloween. I love decorating my house.

I can lease this for $20 a month.

The “fallish” food goodies.

He was cursed shortly after stealing the Zombie Brain Cupcake.

The costumes. And though I’d love to show off my freshly shaved legs once a year, I don’t go for the typical girly outfits. I like a little sportier. Typically, my costumes must include at least one of the following: cigarettes, alcohol and blood of the fake variety. Combine all three of those and it’s just a regular Saturday night at my place.

 

This is bat country, bitches.

I regressed to a previous life.

The mental institution was kind to me.

In fact, I love Halloween so much, I often fantasize that should these flopping ovaries ever conceive a child, I’ll give birth on Halloween. I’ll be at some sort of super awesome party, dancing to the Monster Mash when my water will break. Then it will be glorious chaos thanks to the full moon and I’ll be wheeled into the hospital wearing some sort of large costume ensemble, I’m picturing maybe a pregnant nun or a maybe I’ll be a clown with floppy red shoes and I’ll end up making the doctor wear my clown nose while he delivers my baby.

But I haven’t put much thought into this scenario or anything.

So break out the apple cider and ready the machete because on this here blog we’re going to celebrate Halloween. Celebrate the weird. The gore. The movies. Some writing stuff, I guess.

Oh yes, a Halloween Blog spectacular shall be had.

Just make sure you bring your rape whistle.

No Comments
  • Reply

    downanddirtydesign

    October 1, 2012 at 1:47 am

    OMG Devilfish!!! It’s all coming back to me now! You forgot one though sister….Witchboard?!!!

    • Reply

      julesjustwrite

      October 2, 2012 at 2:36 pm

      I totally forgot about that one! I don’t think I counted it b/c it didn’t really scar me for life. The other three…yes…scarred

  • Reply

    Kath

    October 1, 2012 at 5:38 pm

    Oh, childhood memories of gore and violence. They shall be cherished. How could I ever forget Devilfish or, as Chris mentioned, Witchboard? We had some great times playing Ouija board and pretending there were zombies in Grandma’s basement.

  • Reply

    susanaisy

    October 1, 2012 at 9:43 pm

    ‘flopping ovaries’ remind me of little striped fishes wearing argyle hats. jules you are too much, i’m sitting here laughing my ass off (whoops…. think i felt an ovary move…) that can’t be a good thing.

  • Reply

    julesjustwrite

    October 2, 2012 at 2:37 pm

    Anytime I make you laugh Susan, I consider it a job well done.

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