Fright Fair

Last week a friend invited me to "Fright Fair, Scream Park After Dark". It's part of a Halloween Harvest Festival at Pierce College in Woodland Hills, California.

He treated me to the full service scare - Corn Maze, Haunted House and Haunted Trail.

Now I think of myself as a pretty tough individual but boy oh boy and girl oh girl did I lose it.

My Step-Grandmother used to always tell me I was ass backwards because I felt safer in the street with hoodlums than in our house (with a security system) and I'll say on this day, October 26, 2006 over 20 years later....She is correct.

I'll take the evil I know, anyday, over monsters, ghouls, demons and the likes. Make believe, shmake believe. There is a line from Toni Morrison's book, Song of Solomon, it reads "What difference do it make if the thing you're scared of is real or not?" AMEN to that. If I jump out of a high-rise window trying to escape a make-believe monster, I'll still wind up scattered on the sidewalk.

So...We get there..... LATE. We get to the Haunted house and we're told...."The creatures are on a 10 minute break" You think that would help ease the fear, once you are told creatures have to eat and take bathroom breaks...but no, not at all.

First of all...If I ever go to another Haunted House or Cornfield, I need to go with a GROUP of people. It was just the two of us and because they were about to close...it was really just the two of us. I wasn't safe walking in front of him, I wasn't safe walking behind him. I wasn't safe jumping on his back. There was no safe haven. I needed one more body to sandwich myself between. It was outrageously horrifying to me. Opening doors and walking through different rooms with different horrible and bloody scenarios. Sometimes we'd hear moaning in the next room, so we'd know we were in for it and sometimes the creatures (dressed up teenagers, I'm sure) would come from behind.

It's amazing how a grown woman such as myself and a grown man such as my friend..we'll call him K for short, completely lost our senses in a Haunted House set up in the middle of a field on a College Campus. And the screaming....I hit notes I never thought possible and I really didn't realize how much I was screaming until K let me know about it. The screaming was innate..I couldn't stop.

I still can't decide which was scarier...the Haunted house or the Haunted Trail (in the middle of a cornfield). Actually, as I type this I realize, CORNFIELD! Mucho scary as hell. I mean, who wasn't horrified at the thought of " Children of the Corn" and a cornfield all by itself is scary enough. But add monsters, ghouls, fools with chainsaws and the memory of that screen ode to dysfunctional kids in a field and you've got the recipe for a FIRST CLASS HEART ATTACK.

And, I, of course was wearing heels (never wear heels) but when an invite comes in, ya gotta roll with the punches.

Punch 1 - Heels in a haunted cornfield.

The first scare was a big football playing looking child of the corn. And man for a big guy he chased me a longggggg time. Because when he jumped out, I went back to my days of high school as a 100 yard dash sprinter. The problem with me, is I am a sprinter. I am incapable of long distance running, apparently even when a 350 pound monster in blood drenched overalls chases me in a cornfield. K, who I wouldn't let out of my sight, went down as well and had the nerve to wave the ghoul on...telling him to go get her. Her being "eat my dust" Dayna. I was sprinting right out of his realm until ..BOOM..I took a hella dive. Here's some advice - Don't run with scissors OR in heels. And they were boots with heels, good solid heels, but I'm a flip-flop girl. So I went down.......hard. I'm not ashamed to say it. Jumped up caught my breath and took off running again (still trying to get the grass and dirt stains out of my favorite jeans.) There was no end to the cornfield and no end to the amount of creatures jumping out from behind the stalks.

Finally K, caught up, because I could no longer run. I even told a monster to just keep me. I mean it was really unbelievable. The deep, heartfelt horror of it all. The pain in my chest from screaming AND sprinting at the same time. They should add that to the Olympics roster - Horror sprinting. You have to run for 200 yards while screaming the whole time.

When we emerged from the horrifying haunted trail. We both were sore, it was like a horrifying work out at the gym. A "hurt so good" feeling. Crazy. I slept like a baby that night. Until I heard a noise in my kitchen around 4am. I'm certain it was a creature from the cornfield (grown world traveled woman here) but I can't be sure.

Eddie Murphy does a stand up joke about the difference between white and black people when it comes to being scared. He uses Poltergeist as an example.. A White family buys a new house, hears a ghost say "get out" and they invite other people over to come hear the ghost. A Black family buys a new house, hears a ghost say "get out" and they take the ghosts advice. I felt similar when I heard the noise/creature in my kitchen, I didn't get up and leave, but I sure as hell didn't get up and go investigate. I just moved the stungun closer to the bed and layered my sleepwear in case I had to escape through the window.

But after all of the fear, the running, the screaming, the busting of my ass, the staining of my jeans and so on and so forth....I had a slap ass good time. I really did. A horrifying and gratifying good time. But I'm not going back. No haunted houses and trails for at least 3 years. I mean the whole concept is brilliant! You walk in with your lips twisted in disbelief and you walk out humbled because you damn near wet your pants. Brilliant!!! Though I suspected I'd be an easy target, just didn't know the level of horror. And thank the Big God of little Fishes, I wasn't drunk or on any hallucinogenic drugs. I would've been featured on eyewitness news.

Thanks K-MAN. Let's have more fun, more fun!!!!! Oh, Halloween in West Hollywood. I haven't done that since I moved to California. I'm working that day, but I'm dedicated to making it. We'll see.

This is the entrance....other than those lights....DARKNESS!!!!!

We love fabulous gay men....

So if all these so called straight shooter left wing "closeted" bible-belt Republican males just embraced their desires and picked up a copy of Diana Ross' greatest hits...and a Barbara Streisand box set.....wouldn't life be grand. Although, the thought of Mark Foley, in drag....not so much.

The issue here, is not that this man is/was a closeted Republican, it's that he decided he likes, little soft "confused" boys, who are looking to be mentored, not molested. He decided to take advantage of a situation, instead of being a responsible grown gay male, who takes the time to DATE other grown gay males. Nothing wrong with that. Something way wrong with seducing young "confused" males who are probably only going along with it based on his position of "power." Sad...sad...sad....and disgusting. I mean if these boys ARE gay, would that old, ugly man be their first choice of a love interest.....hell no.

I'm sure the parents of these boys were so proud of their sons, so happy for the career path they were on. Then they learn, the career path was really just male prostitution. God help an old man who'd try that on an offspring of mine. I hope to raise a child who would take the inappropriate solicitation, first, to me and then, second, to eyewitness news. I can't imagine....What was Foley trying to create, a new legacy of confused Republican, molested males to take over Congress one day. What he did to these boys is beyond unfair, selfish and nasty...it's beyond. Okay, so you have these thoughts and feelings towards little boys that you can't seem to control. Then move to a mountain and live alone or seek psychiatric help. You selfish bastard. Now you've got several boys who have to grow into men and function in society with the memory and public humiliation of some old stinky Congressman who took advantage of them. A vicious cycle of abuse.

It's funny how, because this guy is Republican...every excuse in the book is being brought to light for his sexual deviance...he was molested and yadda, yadda, yadda. And when Michael Jackson's dysfunction came out, nobody cared or excused his alleged inappropriate behavior with kids, whose own PARENTS dropped them off at grown ass Micheal Jackson's house. I wonder who molested Michael and if and when that comes to light, will he be excused for "unproven" lewd acts.

And oh how they are going on and on about....these, being, just text messages and Foley, never had sex with any of these boys. Of course he did. Maybe not all of them but at least one. Or some kind of inappropriate sexual act with a minor... of the same sex for God's sake. Come on. Denial really is a river in Egypt when a Republican's dirt is aired. If this guy was a democrat, he would've been exiled and dropped in the middle of the Sahara dessert. "They" would magically find old condoms and bottles of alcohol with leftover DNA from the teenage pages in the deviant democrats house. So I see why the wicked claim Republican...you get away with doing a busload of grimy stuff. And if by chance, you do get caught....no matter how heinous the crime....you get a tiny slap on the hand to keep the public quiet and then you get a gift basket filled with chocolates and champagne as an apology for the public slap on the hand your cohorts were FORCED to give to appease the masses.

Outrageous!! But all things come to light. So I've said this before and I'll say it again and I feel the same way about myself....If you don't want anyone to know about some shady shit you're doing.....Don't do it. Because if one other human knows, rest assured, several know. And eventually you'll have to deal with whatever it is you were trying to hide or deny.

This man, Foley, makes enough money to go get therapy for his sick addiction. And that's what he shouldv'e done. But we live in a society where if you have enough power and money, you and several fools under you, will start to believe your own bullshit of...."Whatever I want I can have and whatever I want to do is okay" And with several yes men or women whispering behind your back but not telling you to your face how sick and disgusting you are.....you are never checked and the monster just grows and grows. This dude was really throwing stones in a glass house. Good for the Aide who ratted him out. I'm usually not a fan of rat finks, but I love a good shake up amongst the so called "Elite". This Foley guy is the elite of America....money makes it right.

Money makes, extortion, adultery, child molestation, murder, mayhem, sodomy, R. Kelly, rape, and a slew of other wrong things....right.

Wrong!

I have to be a bit shallow and add what I just read....Foley has allegedley been involved in a long-term relationship with a dermatologist..Ummmmm....Foley's skin shows otherwise. So if this is true, either that is the worst dermatologist on earth or he didn't like his boyfriend very much.