Fear (or whatever it is you like about Haunted Houses)

So.

I have this quirk.

Okay…I am the embodiment of much that is quirky πŸ˜‰

Haunted Houses. People go to them to get the crap scared out of themselves.

I don’t.

I don’t like getting the crap scared out of me. Life is scary enough without some profiteers at a haunted house offering bonuses to all their employees that make an adult pee their pants. No joke, I have a friend or two that work these things, that bonus really exists.

So now we’re not only going someplace that so that we can make sure our hearts don’t up and quit when we’re startled by the loon running at you with a running chainsaw….Homie in the chainsaw…he gets a bonus if he makes you wet yourself.

Why is all this coming up anyhow?

Two reasons…IT IS HALLOWEEN GOOFUS! …and a friend I barely ever get to see asked me to go with her Friday.

Unfortunately, I don’t react to scary situations like those in a haunted house altogether in a manner the haunted house owners would prefer. Guy jumps at my girlfriend with a knife. Guy gets hurt. Guy comes running at me with a chainsaw, I don’t run, scream, and I most certainly don’t cringe in fear. I just take the chainsaw away from him. (Yes both these instances happened, much to my friends delight…they knew ahead of time what would happen, the better the haunted house, the more likely Tony would get kicked out).

Yeah. So. Tony and Haunted Houses don’t mix. I suppose it would be fun to put a really scary pic in here denoting how scared people can get. But I don’t have one…and since my version of a scary scene done on the fly would look remarkably like Allie Brosh’ stuff at Hyperboleandahalf …SO…we’ll just end this now.

Learn something new every day eh?