Say “horror” to me and the first word that comes to my mind is cliché. Everything I see that is supposed to scare me just doesn’t. I laugh and giggle. I call out what’s going to happen before it happens. (Except the train scene in the first Hostel – that creeped me out.) So of course, when I first heard about American Horror Story, I was tentative to watch, and thought for sure I wouldn’t get into it. Not my favorite genre of entertainment by a long shot, I was super-skeptical of a horror-based television series, and more so since it’s written by the creators of Glee, Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuck (Side Note: I am not-Glee-bashing here).

Against my protests, we gave it a shot. The first episode got a big “What the hell is going on here” from both Rich and I. Episode 2 was pretty much the same, but more violent, and it grabbed our attention. Tate hacking the Harmon’s home invaders to death was pretty gruesome, and did shock me – so we were getting somewhere. His ease with terrible violence was chilling – were these Columbine-like sequences we saw real or Tate’s imagination? I was intrigued and we stayed the course, due in part to our non-understanding of what the hell was happening.

It was like we were sucked into a vacuum of insane craziness and left on the doorstep of Murder House to stare and ogle at everything around us. Who is this Rubber Man? Why is Vivien so dumb? Where are Ben’s clothes – are the ghosts stealing them? Who the hell is this girl that looks like a sloth version of Vera Farmiga? Wasn’t this crazy kid on One Tree Hill? (Okay, that was just me wondering that – and yes, Tate was on OTH –FYI.)

Then things really started to push the envelope. Addy being called a mongoloid and getting killed on Halloween. Rape-by-Ghost-in-Rubber-Suit. Ben’s mistress getting whacked in the face with a shovel by creepy burn guy Larry. (I did laugh my ass off when she got it though, I must admit.) I was uber-grossed out by Dr. Montgomery trying to replace his murdered baby for his grieving wife by sewing dead baby parts together with animal skin into what is called Infantata – HUH? What drugs are these men on to come up with this? Even the opening theme music freaked me out!

Jessica Lange, Evan Peters, Dylan McDermott, Connie Britton, Taissa Farmiga, Zach Quinto – every actor on this show gave an outstanding performance. They brought the story to life (pun intended) and made viewers love and hate them. We laughed, gasped, maybe cried right along with them. Kudos to you all, ladies and gentlemen. May you all get an award for your work.

American Horror Story is my kind of horror – something that does not reveal all it’s gruesome plans at the get-go, keeps you on the edge of your seat, and makes you yell HOLY S–T. Not a “don’t go in the basement” type of deal. (Even though the Murder House basement isn’t a good place to go actually, but you get my point.) Viewers have a constant guessing game throughout the entire season. What is with this house? Are all these people dead? Who’s the daddy (ies)? OMG Rubber Baby OMG! Most horror today is hack and slash – and I honestly don’t care about that. I don’t care about some put together story that does nothing for your psyche. I just don’t connect with it. Constant twists and turns, lefts, rights, ups and downs – that’s what Murphy and Falchuk gave us; a fantastic story that played out completely down to the very end. The fact that every main character except Constance and her new murderous Rubber Baby grandson end up being a ghost in the house was great. The season had a clear beginning, middle and end – exactly how it should have been done.

Overall, I was very satisfied with the finale, and cannot wait to see what comes next -which rumor has will be a completely different locale with new characters. I am all for it. As the scummy real estate lady said: “No matter where you go, you’ll be moving into somebody’s history.”

Keep us guessing guys, and I surely will keep coming back for more of your psychotic lunacy. And thank you, FX, for allowing us to be “Horror”-fied once again.