My love for horror movies supersedes my affection for my family, friends, my wife, and almost certainly my furry shit factory of a dog. I don’t want them, or you, however, to become the almost unforgivably dumb first or second victim in a horror movie, and so I wrote a little diddy about how to keep yourself from getting stabbed or eaten this year.
It’s posted here at Esquire, so you should go and read it while there’s still time. Also, feel free to be thankful to me for not mentioning The Human Centipede at any point in this article. You are welcome, Planet Earth.