Horror in general and an apology

I know that we are young,
And I know you may love me,
But I just can't be with you like this anymore...

Funny...Now I was going to say the same thing. (By the way, to find out where this came from (although I would say that it either came from hitting the happy juice or getting a large overdose of something funky and winky) you click the bottom line. Stupid technology.)

As you can probably tell, I have caught a sad, sad dose of laz-y-ness. But you're probably not here to listen to a profound, profuse, and proliferating apology. I was just occupied with better things.

(Insert picture of the nap partners. Again, stupid #@%(&$^ technology)

So, what have I been reading?

Your mind, among other things, and....

The Curse of the WENDIGO!!!

This is, by far, the best horror novel I have ever read. Period. But, perhaps I should give you a nice background on my experience with horror novels.

1) In '09 I read the Shawshank Redemption. Hey, Stephen King is a horror novelist, right? Yeah, but not really in this particular book. Good read, though. Goood read. I almost had to put it in the freezer! (Joey, circa 1996. Don't judge my pathetic-ness on my amazing ability to marathon Friends.)

2) Whenever the Human Centipede came out--I really am too afraid to even look it up--I made the huge mistake of Googling it on the internet and reading it on Wikipedia, which, as it turns out, is way too elaborate in its descriptions. They should have just described it as gross and messed up.

3) Same goes for the Exorcist. And the select episode of the Rocky Horror Picture Show on Glee. Hey, there's horror in the title.

4) I find the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo quite horrible in the moral sense. Good book, nightmare-inducing plot line.

5) Ditto for Room.

Yup. So, me, yeah. But I decided to try the Curse of the Wendigo to redeem my wimping out on the Monstrumologist. Oh, and don't get me wrong. Just because I was able to handle the gruesome...ehm...stuff in the C.O.T.W. (And to think, I am still willing to chase after the ice cream truck...laziness is not my most attractive quality) doesn't mean that it is for the weak-hearted, or for reading during lunch. Or before bed. Just a tip. Really, though, read it, read it, read it. If you enjoy superlative writing, that delicious, rare quiver of the last pages that fills you with dread and hope which only comes after reading a truly amazing book (gasping for breath), and a gripping, labyrinth-like plot, you must read. Must READ! I command you. Oh--and as a side note, the Will Henry in the book is nothing like that fine (read it like fiiii-iiine) Will Turner. He's eleven. Sorry.

c u nxt tym, bff Jill. (; (; (;