There was a time in my past when six hours spent in a shopping mall was just about the most incredibly magical way a Saturday could be spent. Thankfully, I'm no longer a 14 year old suburbanite and now dedicate weekends to more noble pursuits (such as watching gems like
Jack Frost 2 and
The Stabilizer) and reserve department store excursions solely for updating zombie survival blueprint plans. While I wouldn't mind shuffling my way past Cinnabon and Game Stop free of charge during martial law, a shopping spree now seems more odious than a dentist's appointment in October.
So rather than haul myself to Macy's for the yet-to-be-started holiday shopping, I'm spending my
Friday Pop Syndicate column browsing a few great (and not-so-good) horror titles set in...you know. Where the dead go when hell gets crowded on Black Friday.
Come for a read and stay for the Orange Julius.
Otherwise you face the wrath of Nazi made toad-eating elves. And really, who needs that when you haven't even begun wrapping?
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