Horror movies aren’t my thing.

Wait, I take it back — movies aren’t my thing.

There are two things I doubt I’ll ever enjoy: movies and being scared.

And I couldn’t be more disappointed to accept the challenge posed by my peers to watch a horror movie and transcribe the experience. Through strenuous debate and my personal stipulations, we settled on, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” an 88-minute remake from 2003, about a group of friends who detour off route — terrible idea — while traveling through Texas.

This selection was scary enough to shrivel me with fear, but not enough to give me nightmares, my peers believed.

A group of pot-enthused friends driving a beat-up Dodge caravan back from smuggling marijuana in from Mexico nearly hit a silenced woman walking lonesome in the middle of the street. She’s “trying to get away,” but through tears and few words she expresses the desire of “really wanting to go home.”

When the group takes her in and asks her name, she pleas “they’re all dead.”

That’s about as far as the conversation goes.

It’s not even ten minutes before horror sets in as the character pulls a gun, says to the group “you’re all gonna die,” and takes a bullet to the throat. Instant terror.

And it’s not even the worst of it.

At the center location for the story the “Old Crawford Mill,” the group settles.

One suggests they “just dump the body and run,” while waiting for the sheriff to arrive. This is ultimately the best suggestion anyone has made in the history of horror movies — had they gone through with it.

In a free-formed democracy the third vote, Kemper, is too strongly held back by his girlfriend who can’t stand to leave the body stranded.

This move alone would be enough to set up Kemper for death. Within ten minutes, he’s murdered.

From this point on, it’s one death after another.

A man masked with estranged leather carrying a chainsaw tears through cars, buildings and the woods to saw away the flesh of the group.

It wasn’t bloody limbs leaving me desperate to bail.

About mid-way through the movie, the second victim of the killer “Leatherface,” is hung by a chain designed for butcher’s to hold meat.

I looked away and had to take a breather.

The movie is directed for fear and terror; gore is secondary. But it did enough — believe me.

Bodies continue to hang in the cellar.

Before we know it, the killer is out in the open chasing main character Erin.

The killer’s theatrics are enough to pull at her emotions — he’s sewn Kemper’s (Erin’s dead boyfriend) face to his mask.

Erin continually escapes, and it’s off-putting how lucky she is every time, but it’s the poor theatrics that keep this flick going.

The movie ends up coming full-circle.

Discrepancies about the girl from the start of the movie can be summed up, and based on what I’ve seen at this point, there’s no reason why anyone wouldn’t say the same things.

Although I would advise anyone, even those fear stricken, to be much, much more vocal.

“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” is based on the real-life story of Thomas Hewett, who the 2003 film claims is still part of “a case that remains open today.”

All in all, I wasn’t too terrified. If anything, the movie was borderline sleep-inducing because the minimal storyline progresses so slowly despite the swift race between characters that make up the context.

If horror movies aren’t your thing, don’t try to push yourself to see one. You might just be the next victim of Leatherface — death by boredom.