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I don’t understand why anyone would pay money to sit in a cold theater for two hours and be scared shitless.  I can be scared for free in many parts of Baltimore City at night, for example.  I can be scared when I’m driving and have no idea where I am.  I can even be scared when I forget about a huge assignment or project and get slammed with a wave of anxiety.  However, love makes you do crazy things apparently so that is how I found myself watching “Drag me to Hell” on a Thursday night instead of doing, oh, I don’t know…ANYTHING ELSE.  Actually, my eyes were closed for 2/3rds of it but I still managed to spaz out like an epileptic at a techno concert on more than one occasion.

Sidenote: I know, I know.  I don’t write for about three months and then I just swoop back in here with my random topics and huge life changes.  Okay, he’s cute, I no longer have to be a crazy cat lady (even though he has a cat) and he’s mine.  And that’s all I have to say about that.  Step off, bitches! 

Anywayyy, back to my rant.  So here is the premise of “Drag me to Hell” (from what I gathered in my fifteen or so minutes of watching it).  There was some curse put on this Mexican kid and this spiritual healer lady sucks at her job so he dies and the floor opens and he is literally dragged into hell (poignant title, no?).  Then this batshit crazy gypsy lady who just happens to be RUSSIAN (aka me in 60 years) needs another extension on a loan for her house or she’s going to be kicked out and Alison Lohman plays this mousy bankteller who has no balls (and just happens to be dating Justin Long who is his usual adorable cinematic self) and she is trying to impress her boss and tells the lady that she cannot help her and the dirty gypsy who is CREEPY AS SHIT starts begging her but she refuses to acquiesce (you all still with me?).  THEN, Alison Lohman gets in her car, which just happens to be in the darkest and scariest parking garage ever and the crotchety gypsy is in the back seat so they start fighting and then a button is cursed and I have never been more uneasy in my whole life.  Like, I now constantly check the back seat of my car.  I felt like I was going to vom.  It was that intense.  I think at that point I just tried to block it all out by thinking about happy things like balloons and pez dispensers.  (In fact, I can’t even go further with the synopsis because I’m having PTSD flashbacks right now and it’s not pretty) So basically, while I’m practically convulsing, the boyfriend is just LOVING my seizure-esque reactions and keeps trying to convince me that “the scary parts are over.”  Yeah, okay asshole.  Sure they are.

To make things worse, when the movie ended and my heart rate started to go back down, I still couldn’t be calm because SOMEBODY decided it would be hilarious to pretend to be the psycho gypsy and terrify me with his facial contortions.  Note to SOMEBODY: Definitely NOT hilarious.

So thanks to “Drag me to Hell” and SOMEBODY, I showed what a huge pussy I am AND I no longer like gypsies and (surprise, surprise) I still hate scary fucking movies.

However, there was somewhat of a happy ending because I got to choose the next movie.  “The Notebook,” anyone?

Alisa for two hours