Or what? You'll release the dogs, or the bees, or the dogs with bees in their mouths and when they bark they shoot bees at you?Halloween is on the way. It's not stopping for anybody. Not you. Not me. Not your pets. Not even for a cheeseburger.
As all Hallows Eve draws nigh, I feel the need to begin on my costume. To go to the local 'pumpkin patch' (Safeway parking lot) and pick out the very best gourd I can lay my sweaty palms on. The one that calls to me. That says "Evil lays within me. Lay a knife to my orange skin and carve out the demon that is screaming to come out. Oh, and bake my guts, too."
I shall. I shall. I can't WAIT to carve me some punk'ins. I get sick from eating too many punk'in seeds every year. Unlike Chris. Who just gets sick eating seed. Is anyone else going to dress up this year? We're pushing 30. We still play guns in the basement. Play video games till 3am. And ride bikes. So if you're not, I'd like to know why.
If you feel that you're just above it, fine. That's cool. But let me pose this question: Are your pets above it? ARE THEY? I think not. Especially after going to this site: The Scariest Dogs EVAR. If you have a weak heart, I beg you not to go there. I BEG YOU! For the sights you will see...my God...they'll scar you for life. I wasn't prepared for the horrors. Especially the terror known only as Levi Elvis.
If this doesn't inspire you to prepare for Halloween. I don't know what will. Except the promise of free candy. It's in the back of my van here. Can you help me find it?
8 comments:
But I was so busy looking for Karl's lost puppy! Confusitron!
Last year I was McManus from Usual Suspects but now that he's "gone clean"--to quote McManus--in the world of Christian skateboarding, I'm hard pressed. I'm thinking go-go dancer or Tony Montana.
I'm so fricking sorry, Karl. I am a girl, but my roommate had a Usual Suspects party and my hair was short and blonde. So I got a black turtleneck, black pants and my leather jacket and went as McManus. You know, a very small McManus with boobs. It was really fun. Is that my fault?
Would you prefer I go as Strawberry Shortcake in a little frilly gown and then at the end of the night, in true sorrority girl fashion, pass out in the apple-bobbing bucket?
Ramcrisp, my significant other and I also contemplate the zombie scenario and how we would do it. He has a great recipe that makes a large batch of fake blood that is pretty washable and cheap...go pester him for it and tell him I sent you. As for the rest, grey costume makeup and steal some of your wife's eyeliner and smear it...you can do it.
So has your brother gone door to door yet to tell people he is a pederast?
Okay, Karl. Just let me get barefoot first.
No, unless they're the bells ringing in my ears after you smacked me in the head so hard with the skillet that last time.
Let me fetch your slippers.
Emily--Do the Strawberry Shortcake/frilly gown/passing out deal.
Send pics. Lots and lots of pics.
RamCrisp--Do the Strawberry Shortcake/frilly gown/passing out deal.
Send pics. Lots and lots of pics.
We must be in the Ozarks after all, if me stooping down to some jackass' jackass level and being a jackass as well is considered flirting. Better luck this weekend, RamCrisp.
Emily-
My recommendation is to go ahead and make Karl's sandwich.
As you are making it, think about including some "special sauce". The ingredients of that sauce are up to the imagination -and moral boundary- of the Chef.
Sit in front of Karl dutifully as he takes his first bite and say "how does it taste honey?"
With drool coming from his engorged mouth and snot running as a water fall from his unwiped nose he will grunt, "Good, now get me my beer, Woman."
You say, "sure, would you like some of that same special sauce mixed in your beer as I put on your sandwich....HONEY!"
At that point, quit smiling and drop your head keeping your eyes locked on his. He will slow his slurping, belching and drooling as the reality of what you just said sinks in.
Then put on your shoes and slowly stand up as you tell this spectacle of a human being that you are going "clubbing" and you'll be back when you are done.
As you are walking out the door looking good and carrying car keys, tell him there is plenty of your special sandwich makings left if he gets hungry later.
Sure, Karl will think about it and finish the sandwich. He is, in fact, a pig. But in the future he will be more careful in how he requests your services, if for no other reason than self preservation.
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