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Tamara Is Horny for... Haunted Houses!
culture
  |  
Oct 30, 2019

Tamara Is Horny for... Haunted Houses!

"If you compare the sexy, muscular ghouls that I encountered at the Los Angeles Haunted Hayride to Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny, I can absolutely say that Halloween is the horniest of holidays."

When I was fourteen my mom forced me to join a Jewish youth group because I had no friends, and all I ever did at home was scratch my vagina on the couch and watch The Maury Povich Show. The first youth group event I attended was on Halloween. Me and a group of teens, whom I had never met before, were put on a school bus, and driven to a haunted maze. 

I had just moved to the United States, and had no idea what a haunted maze was. So when I walked into a dark, foggy room and a man with a pig mask jumped in front of me while screaming “Oink, Oink!” I lost control of my bowels and shit my pants. I spent the rest of the evening shaking with fear in the bathroom, because it was the only area where ghouls weren’t allowed to scare you. It was the worst night of my life, and I’ve hated Halloween ever since.

I never set foot in another haunted house again until last night, when I inhaled a bong rip of Banana OG, and took myself to the Los Angeles Haunted Hayride: an 18-and-up horror theme park inside of an abandoned zoo. I was determined to override my traumatic past experience and become horny for Halloween, like I have for Cats and Aquaman.

1572472875723_tamarapic1.jpg

The moment I walked into the park, I was slapped in the face with a very intense smell of egg farts that was apparently caused by an issue with the Porta Potties. Not the horniest start to my evening, but I was not about to let a mere stench stop me from having a spooky time. I took a breath (without inhaling through my nostrils), and headed straight to the main attraction — the “Haunted Hayride.” 

I stood in line between two goths that wouldn’t stop making out, and a group of teens who wouldn’t stop twerking. Everyone was horny! God bless America, and god bless Halloween. It was finally time to enter the ride. One of the attraction operators, who introduced himself as “Hot Dog,” ushered me, the horny goths, and the twerking teens into wagon. He then asked us to sit on the floor of the wagon, which was covered in dirty hay and wished us good luck on our journey through “Midnight Falls,” a town that had been taken over by demons. Hot Dog waved at us as a tractor pulled our wagon into the darkness. 

My first impression of the ride was that there was a lack of monsters approaching the wagon. Maybe they all called in sick on the same day. Maybe they were on strike. The goths seemed unimpressed. Luckily, as we drove on, a crew of ghouls approached us. It sounded like they were shaking maracas. One muscular ghoul that was dressed like a biker appeared out of nowhere and yelled, “Let me on the wagon!” while holding up a huge chain in my face. He had great muscles and was kind of sexy, and I actually considered letting him on the wagon and then later taking him home with me. 

1572473018900_tamarapic4.jpg

At one point, the tractor stopped. Fog filled the air, making it very difficult to see anything. Suddenly, a man in a wolf mask ran towards us, dragging a woman who struggled to free herself. He approached our wagon and slashed the woman’s throat with his claws. Immediately, everyone on the wagon was squirted with blood. It was truly a beautiful moment that I’ll never forget. 

As the 20-minute ride was coming to an end, I hit my Tahoe OG disposable vape pen. Hot Dog was waiting for us at the exit. He asked us how the ride us. I wanted to tell him how much I loved it, but I had such terrible cotton mouth that I was unable to move my tongue, so I smiled instead and headed straight to “The Nutty Bavarian,” a stand that only sells water and nuts. I bought a bottle of water for $4 bucks. Worth it. 

1572473031083_tamarapic3.jpg

Now that my mouth had regained its moisture, I was ready to hit the walking mazes. I wanted more. I was horny for fear and I couldn’t get enough. I entered the "Roadkill Ranch," a maze where dead animals come to life. I strolled through the haunted barn, stoned out of my mind, but feeling powerful and brave as shit. 

Then, suddenly, a man in a pig mask — very similar to the one who inspired me to shit my pants as a teen — popped out of nowhere. I let out a biblical scream, so incredibly loud, that the pig man froze. He broke out of character, looked at me, and said, “Damn, girl...” in, like, a really sexy way.  

1572473056664_tamarapic5.jpg

This experience really helped change the way I feel about Halloween. I’m not saying it’s my favorite holiday because the truth is I hate them all. But if you compare the sexy, muscular ghouls that I encountered at the “Haunted Hayride” to, let's say, Santa Clause, baby Cupid, or the Easter Bunny, I can absolutely say that Halloween is the horniest of holidays. 

Follow Tamara on Twitter

author___tamara_yajia

Tamara Yajia is an Argentinian-American comedian, writer, and actress. She currently lives in Los Angeles and writes for ClickHole and Funny Or Die.

WATCH MORE FROM MERRY JANE
Tamara Is Horny for... Haunted Houses!

Tamara Is Horny for... Haunted Houses!

  |  
culture
  |  
Oct 30, 2019

"If you compare the sexy, muscular ghouls that I encountered at the Los Angeles Haunted Hayride to Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny, I can absolutely say that Halloween is the horniest of holidays."

When I was fourteen my mom forced me to join a Jewish youth group because I had no friends, and all I ever did at home was scratch my vagina on the couch and watch The Maury Povich Show. The first youth group event I attended was on Halloween. Me and a group of teens, whom I had never met before, were put on a school bus, and driven to a haunted maze. 

I had just moved to the United States, and had no idea what a haunted maze was. So when I walked into a dark, foggy room and a man with a pig mask jumped in front of me while screaming “Oink, Oink!” I lost control of my bowels and shit my pants. I spent the rest of the evening shaking with fear in the bathroom, because it was the only area where ghouls weren’t allowed to scare you. It was the worst night of my life, and I’ve hated Halloween ever since.

I never set foot in another haunted house again until last night, when I inhaled a bong rip of Banana OG, and took myself to the Los Angeles Haunted Hayride: an 18-and-up horror theme park inside of an abandoned zoo. I was determined to override my traumatic past experience and become horny for Halloween, like I have for Cats and Aquaman.

1572472875723_tamarapic1.jpg

The moment I walked into the park, I was slapped in the face with a very intense smell of egg farts that was apparently caused by an issue with the Porta Potties. Not the horniest start to my evening, but I was not about to let a mere stench stop me from having a spooky time. I took a breath (without inhaling through my nostrils), and headed straight to the main attraction — the “Haunted Hayride.” 

I stood in line between two goths that wouldn’t stop making out, and a group of teens who wouldn’t stop twerking. Everyone was horny! God bless America, and god bless Halloween. It was finally time to enter the ride. One of the attraction operators, who introduced himself as “Hot Dog,” ushered me, the horny goths, and the twerking teens into wagon. He then asked us to sit on the floor of the wagon, which was covered in dirty hay and wished us good luck on our journey through “Midnight Falls,” a town that had been taken over by demons. Hot Dog waved at us as a tractor pulled our wagon into the darkness. 

My first impression of the ride was that there was a lack of monsters approaching the wagon. Maybe they all called in sick on the same day. Maybe they were on strike. The goths seemed unimpressed. Luckily, as we drove on, a crew of ghouls approached us. It sounded like they were shaking maracas. One muscular ghoul that was dressed like a biker appeared out of nowhere and yelled, “Let me on the wagon!” while holding up a huge chain in my face. He had great muscles and was kind of sexy, and I actually considered letting him on the wagon and then later taking him home with me. 

1572473018900_tamarapic4.jpg

At one point, the tractor stopped. Fog filled the air, making it very difficult to see anything. Suddenly, a man in a wolf mask ran towards us, dragging a woman who struggled to free herself. He approached our wagon and slashed the woman’s throat with his claws. Immediately, everyone on the wagon was squirted with blood. It was truly a beautiful moment that I’ll never forget. 

As the 20-minute ride was coming to an end, I hit my Tahoe OG disposable vape pen. Hot Dog was waiting for us at the exit. He asked us how the ride us. I wanted to tell him how much I loved it, but I had such terrible cotton mouth that I was unable to move my tongue, so I smiled instead and headed straight to “The Nutty Bavarian,” a stand that only sells water and nuts. I bought a bottle of water for $4 bucks. Worth it. 

1572473031083_tamarapic3.jpg

Now that my mouth had regained its moisture, I was ready to hit the walking mazes. I wanted more. I was horny for fear and I couldn’t get enough. I entered the "Roadkill Ranch," a maze where dead animals come to life. I strolled through the haunted barn, stoned out of my mind, but feeling powerful and brave as shit. 

Then, suddenly, a man in a pig mask — very similar to the one who inspired me to shit my pants as a teen — popped out of nowhere. I let out a biblical scream, so incredibly loud, that the pig man froze. He broke out of character, looked at me, and said, “Damn, girl...” in, like, a really sexy way.  

1572473056664_tamarapic5.jpg

This experience really helped change the way I feel about Halloween. I’m not saying it’s my favorite holiday because the truth is I hate them all. But if you compare the sexy, muscular ghouls that I encountered at the “Haunted Hayride” to, let's say, Santa Clause, baby Cupid, or the Easter Bunny, I can absolutely say that Halloween is the horniest of holidays. 

Follow Tamara on Twitter

author___tamara_yajia

Tamara Yajia is an Argentinian-American comedian, writer, and actress. She currently lives in Los Angeles and writes for ClickHole and Funny Or Die.

WATCH MORE FROM MERRY JANE