I don’t know WHY I thought I’d be able to watch the new hit Netflix show, Stranger Things, and not become… oh, gee, petrified? No. Fossilized? Nooo, what’s the word…. *tick tock *tick tock… yeah, petrified. Petrified works.
All you crazy peeps, with your InstaStories, and your convincing reactions be like:
“Oh my God!”
“I can’t believe this… ”
“What on earth… this show is amazing!”
Blah. Blah. Blah. Yeah right. I fell for it and all I got for it were these lousy nightmares. Said not one of my t-shirts.
I have conveniently forgotten how much I hate scary movies. It’s like avoiding the dentist for me. I put it off and then go, hmmm, it might be time for a check-up. Hence, I started mulling around with the idea that this is something I should get into. The dentist? No. The new show. Don’t do it. Now, keep in mind, I just don’t do frighteningly terrifying things. Nope. Not my cup of tea. I get night sweats. I get scared. and, frankly, with all the terror that can be found on the daily on television and the like, why open myself up to even more possibilities.
Additionally, I’m not a ‘crazy for new shows’ kind of girl either; it literally takes me a few seasons of ANY new show to give it a shot, and 9 out of 10 times, once I get into it, and I LOVE it…
it gets cancelled,
or it remarkably has a “series finale” in the right hand corner of the damn screen.
And mind you, Stranger Things is most unnerving… So, yeah, I’m a little hesitant when choosing new stuff to watch. Add some spookiness to it? Forget it. Let’s keep it in perspective. It took me over 5 seasons to get into The Walking Dead for gripes sake!
Fast forward to a conversation with my mother, who loves scary crap to the point of -NOTHING alarms her. I mean, NOTHING. Not a panic-inducing entity without a face. Not an attack crab monster that lives in the walls. NOT. A. DAMN. THING.
And, I’m a little envious of people who can actually watch that creepy material without incident. Why? Oh…
I’ll get to that in a minute. The nail in the coffin – no pun intended – was my freaking mother convincing me that Strangers Things is so amazing. “You will totally like this one. It’s not too scary so you’ll be fine.” This coming from a woman who’s known me my whole life. I had nightmares from a Stephen King novel-to-movie for over ten years. You all know the one. THere’s a cat and the parents of the kid thinks the cat is stealing children’s breath while they sleep; but, its really these creepy mice things who live in the walls, and have crab claws for hands. Who are the culprits of this breath-stealing nonsense. In the end, the cat ends up swatting the crab/mice evil into a desk fan and that’s the end of that evil, splattered all over the walls. Oh, by the way, if you don’t remember this book-to-film…heads up, spoiler alert. Gee thanks, Rita. You’re welcome!
To sum up: I dreamt of those bastards coming out of my bedroom walls for my entire childhood. Way to use your insight, mama.
So, it’s Halloween night – what better night to start a haunting series than on Halloween, right? *sarcasm -Anyway, I’m ready for the trick-or-treaters, dressed up, candy, and my brand new show that I’m convinced I’m totally going to love. The first three minutes in, I am hooked. And if you follow me on Instagram, you already know this because I Instastoried it, put the phone down and was all about this show the rest of the evening. Six episodes later, and not one trick-or-treater, it was time to walk away from this enthralling show – wait for it – and I was pretty excited about it but it was time to shut it down and hit the hay. I shower, had a little anxiety with the washcloth, remove my makeup, and awakened the next morning from a dream where clumps of tangled human hair balls were stuck in my throat and I was removing cluster after cluster of my own fur out of my mouth. Boo!
Yeah, you read that right. Clumps. Of tangled hair balls. Stuck in my throat.
Damn you, Stranger Things. Damn you.
Keep in mind, there wasn’t even a scene like that in the show. Although, there’s a storyline for your writers. Evil dimension mother f****rs.
Clearly, I did not recall the last time my mother (and sister) both coerced me to going to the theatre to see The Grudge way back when and I could retire to my docile in peace for 8 months. Why the hell did I think I could watch a “it’s not that creepy” CREEPY ASS production like that, and NOT have insane night terrors?! Told you so. And why would someone want to be scared so much anyway! Everyone knows you don’t crawl into a gooey tree in the forest; but I watched the girl do it and I kept watching because I thought I just HAD TO SEE IT. I had to see what was on the other side of the freaking tree.
Moral of the story: Nothing good ever comes from an evil gooey tree.
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