See Saw.

In the spirit of October, the guy and I have taken up watching scary movies. Actually, HE decided we'd take up watching scary movies. In September. Because it was almost October! And October means Halloween! I blame myself. We watched "Elf" the previous weekend and got ourselves in the premature Christmas spirit. But I'm sorry, "Elf" never gets old.

I love smiling. Smiling's my favorite.

See?

Never old.

Anyhow, we began our scary movie journey last weekend with the original "Friday the 13th," a la nineteen-seventy-too-long-ago. It was scary enough, I'll give it that. Amazing what a few decades will do to the special effects of a murder scene, though.

This weekend, when we tried for the sequel, it was unavailable for check out. So we opted for "Saw." And it's three counterparts.

Barf.

I'd seen the first two "Saw" movies, but never the third and fourth. So far we've made it as far as "Saw III." We'll conclude with the fourth tonight.

Barf.

These movies don't even test my scaredy-cat reflexes. They test my gag reflex. During one scene in particular, during the third installment, I had to remind myself to take deep breaths and bring my knees up to encourage proper blood flow.

I thought I was going to vomit.

My mouth's all watery and my head's all light-headed. I guess this was his way of getting back at me for having to watch Harley dump a deuce.

I was impressed that the movies actually follow a plot, and an intriguing one at that, but who comes up with this shit? Somebody needed a little more milk and cookies as a child.