Growing up I loved scary movies and my grandfather was the only family member who would take me to see anything R-rated. That is, up until something called The Beast Within after which he said he was ‘drawing the line’ and I ‘was on my own’ from then on. Something about me witnessing the forced impregnation of a young girl by a demonic alien didn’t sit well.

As an even younger child I lived on the french side of St. Maarten where my mother worked in a bar called Goldy’s. While she was working I’d whittle away my days drinking cafe au lait and shirley temples while watching horror movies on Beta Max with Steve Martin which, for the record, I barely remember. I’m realizing as I type this that I not only started early with the blood and guts but also with the excessive drinking and shameless name dropping.

So you see holloween is near and dear to me because this time of year it’s a varitable theater of blood every time I turn on the tv. Which, incidentally, is not a tv at all but a PROJECTOR where I can see all the amityville I see fit 5ft high on my livingroom wall in high definition. In fact, in a reckless display of conspicuous consumption I can SIMULTANEOUSLY record three bloodbaths at one time and thats NOT counting the tivo upstairs. So without further adieu, I have to go finish Freddie vs. Jason and start up Leprechaun II: Back 2 Tha Hood. I said I liked horror, I never said I had good taste. Snobs.

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