Shopping at discount food stores has it’s ups and downs. Today I scored several large and fresh packages of PG Tips for $3 each as well as six-packs of my favorite lemonade for $2. But then there’s this stuff:
I’m sure this jam is fine. Even if it’s Extra Jam and has a label that I’m pretty certain was designed to be used for a body paint sexual aid. Hell, I’ll always wonder if this was the best cherry jam in the world and I was just too conservative¹ to try it. But probably not.
In totally unrelated news, last night I stuck my head in a small hole in my mom’s deck armed only with a flashlight and my denial that horror movies are real. I was looking for a rabid raccoon. I assume it was rabid. I did it as a favor beings as I am the only one in the house limber enough to squat on the deck and hang my head inside a hole. The spiders in my hair were free.
Anyway, it was one of a dozen recent reminders of a conversation my friend Leesa and I had about how people in horror movies don’t act like real people. They do one of two things:
1) Are incredibly alert, noticing the smallest of creepy sounds. They will of course investigate this sound.
2) Are totally not suspicious of creepy sounds at all and act like they just heard a kitten. They will of course investigate this sound.
In reality, what happens is this: upon hearing creepy sound, you realize you’ve been hearing a creepy sound for a while now but you haven’t been paying attention. Now totally startled by this creepy sound, you’re aware that you are “in a horror film” and then spend a decent amount of energy trying to convince yourself that horror movies aren’t real. Once this is complete, you pick up a small, useless “weapon” and attempt to “calmly” determine the source of the noise. Even if you see something totally terrifying, you will then be satisfied that EVERYTHING IS FINE. Case in point: the time I saw a man in the woods staring at my mom’s house and convinced myself I imagined it. Later, when I told my mom I imagined a man standing in the woods staring at her house, she said to me, “Oh no, that’s the guy that lives in the back woods. He’s always coming up to make sure no one is clearing brush anywhere near his property line.”
Anyway, the raccoon wasn’t there. Nothing pulled my head off. But make no mistake: this is a horror film.
¹ Get it? CONSERVE-ative! HA!April 25th, 2010 | Food Rant, Totally Unrelated