Last night, Carrie and Logan returned from their hike all a-glow. Logan in-particular seemed moved by the adventure. A woman of few words, the gleam of her face and twinkling blue eyes told a story her voice did not.
I presented my friends with the meal I had prepared only to learn that both women hate bell peppers. Hate bell peppers? But they’re so… innocuous! That’s like hating celery or Saltine crackers or Jane Pauley. I mean, I can understand not loving them, but they’re not dramatic enough to warrant hate!
"I just wanna be loved!"
After some bell-pepper picking and grumbling, dinner was served. The ladies had stopped on the way home and bought Slurpees to mix with the fancy rum that Corey had bequeathed. Between the two ingredients, I concocted an elixir that made you tipsy just by smelling it. Carrie and I fought over who would get the cherry-flavored, and as usual, she won.
We re-arranged the furniture in the living room and created an impromptu theatre, then popped in a DVD of Wes Craven’s “The Hills Have Eyes,” which had been recommended to me by Kirk, one of the VIP’s of the Amoeba Music DVD depot. I asked for a desert themed horror film and, like a computer, out came his suggestion.
Just one of many heart-warming moments from "The Hills Have Eyes"
I’m not a fan of horror films, per se, though I’m not opposed to them. I just never find them scary. Like, ever. My idea of a horror film is “Bowling for Columbine” or “An Inconvenient Truth”. Or, if you really want to see me sweat, tie me down and force me to watch “Dumbo”. I will pee.
[insert sound of Job screaming here]
What I am a fan of is seeing horror films with sexy chicks who shriek, hide their eyes, and clutch my arm; Corey, Carrie and Logan all fit this description.
The film, not awful by any means, was mostly a disappointment because the bad guys were very visible and silly looking and frankly, were less annoying than the heroes. We kept waiting for one of the female leads in-particular to get hacked to pieces, not because we’re sadistic, but because her constant screaming was violent enough to warrant her death, if only in self-defense of our ear drums.
Also, the film ends at what feels like three-quarters in. Imagine watching “Titanic”, and the film ends just as the ship starts to sink. That would be weird, right? And that’s how it felt. (I know what you’re thinking; you wish “Titanic” had ended then. That’s why you and I get along so well. Xoxo)
While smoking on the front porch, Logan and I shared amused glances as Corey and Carrie perched atop of their chairs, fearfully scanning the premises for bugs. Corey had spotted a potato bug which, I’ll admit, looks fierce, but since I’m not a potato I don’t feel threatened by them. Soon a cockroach was also seen, and that’s when Corey and Carrie turned into the housewives from a Looney Tunes cartoon who’ve seen a mouse. It was cute.
It was time for bed. Carrie and Logan toasted each other with shots of Nyquil and I sang lullabies, as our new tradition goes. I took a shower to wash off the smell of cigarettes. I don’t normally smoke unless I’m in the presence of Carrie, who brings out my “inner chimney” and Corey has been very sweet to allow me this indulgence without hassle, though I know he hates it.
At night, mysterious creatures scuttled across the roof of Carrie and Logan’s room, and Carrie was once again bitten by some unknown creature that only molests her. Evidence of this comes as tiny red circles dotting her legs, which she discovers each morning. We’re pretty sure it’s not pox, which is hopefully true, because then we’d have to burn her and leave her behind.
The author fearlessly braves bugs and sits on the ground.