There's No Shame on the Internet

As last night was a Monday night after an exhausting day of working on what was technically a holiday, I was not exactly inclined to do much of anything. Basically I walked through the door, stripped out of my work clothes and changed into my pajamas. Threw something into the oven for dinner, then collapsed on the couch. Again, being Monday, there's not even a damn thing on television to watch, so me and Roommate Frank opted to watch M. Night Shyamalan's The Village, because he had never seen it before, and I love me that horrible movie.

Seriously, yeah I'll admit straight up that the movie is horrible. Sucktastic. L-to-the-izz-ame, as it were. But I can't get enough Bryce Dallas Howard and Joaquin Phoenix's character is just so damn cute. And yeah, okay, the movie does still freak me out a bit, despite the fact that I know exactly what happens. Sue me, I'm a little girl like that.

So we start watching the movie and it is sufficiently creepy. Made moreso by the fact that it's really windy outside, so there are these really loud noises coming from our patio, as all my sundry chairs and plants outside roll around in the wind. We pause the movie for a moment to lock the sliding glass door and for Roommate Frank to double-check the lock on the front door. Because we are awesome.

Movie continues, as do the sounds from outside. Roommate Frank becomes convinced that M. Night Shyamalan is out on our patio trying to make the movie scarier than it actually is. I do not technically disagree with him.

Movie ends, Frank bemoans how horrible the entire thing was. Again, I do not disagree. But sadly, to tell the truth, I am still a little on edge from the whole thing. That shit is scary, yo. What?! Don't judge me! Yet.

There's another loud noise from the patio.

Frank: [lying on the couch] Jason! Make M. Night Shyamalan go away!
Jason: [in as patronizing a tone as possible] Now Frank, you know full well that M. Night Shyamalan is just a make-believe story that people tell to scare little kids. See?
[Jason goes to pull the curtain aside to show that there is no one on the patio. He pulls it open, and SEES SOMEONE STANDING RIGHT THERE LOOKING AT HIM!]
Jason: GAHHHH! [Bounds backwards three feet while screaming like a little girl.]
Frank: What?!
Jason's Brain: Calm down you fool! You realize that was just your reflection in the glass door, right? Way to freak-the-fuck-out over what is practically your own shadow. You are the lamest lame who ever lamed. Frank officially thinks you've lost your mind. But maybe you can still pull this out.
Jason: Ha. Ha. Good one, right? Had you going there! Heh. [pause] Heh. Aren't I a good actor?
Frank: [Inquisitive head tilt] Huh?
Jason: Okay, yeah, I just freaked out over my own reflection.
Frank: Ha ha. 'Mo.
Jason: Hate Crime!

This week shall hereunto be referred to as Jason's Mondo Week of Embarrassing Scenarios.