Last night I slept on the couch.
I know what you’re thinking and no it’s not the cliche’ “spurned lover kicks me out of my room” (even though it would make a better story for all of us…). My late night living room camp-out is solely the result of an over active imagination and years of an boarder line un-healthy obsession with an art form known as the “horror movie”.
As I was settling into bed around 1:00am last night (what?) I started to hear slight creaking sounds, and as I raise my head to try to figure were the sound was coming from I realize my closet door was slowly opening. I paused to truly understand gravity of the situation, and then I got the hell out of there…
Now, Ladies and Gentlemen I don’t know about you but I’ve seen enough movies to know that ten out of ten people who get out of bed to shut the open closet door have something bad happen. Since I didn’t want to be eaten by clowns, sucked into a whacked out ghost dimension, have my soul pulled through my eyeballs, or any number of fates that my subconsious likes to play in the back on my head like some twisted drive-in theater I think I made the right decision.