Home from graveyard shift,
I was mindlessly surfing the net,
checking my e-mail, reading bad jokes,
and heard your laughter.
I knew I should join you,
but my mind was a blank,
going over the details
of the previous night,
zoning out,
winding down.
"Honey, come in here!
Watch this with me...
This man's a f***ing genius!"
You had Rob Zombie's,
"House of 1,000 Corpses"
in the DVD player...
I never got past the
shooting scene in the intro,
and your boys who make
homemade horror films
(Ethan is going to
be a famous director)
refuse to watch it,
"Over-the-top violence"!
But you'd been trying
to get me to watch it
for over a year now,
so I got into my jammies
and gave in.
So, I laid there sleepy
trying to find the humor
in kidnapped cheerleaders
and murder maniacs.
I suppose it's some kind
of black humor that
I just don't "get"...
but I was tired enough
to lay still and watch,
not sure if I should
laugh or look away
or what comments to make...
when you began
kissing me all over,
and for the tenth time,
we didn't make it
through the movie.
But it's almost Halloween,
and somehow,
making love with
a horror movie
in the background
seemed to be
in the spirit of the
pending holiday,
and that made it okay.