On this most horrible of all holidays. If you care. Try these costume party stand-outs on for size. If like me you hate All Hallow’s Eve. Put cheap candy in a bowl on the porch and re-watch the Republican debate. Or Hillary’s 11-hour Benghazi hearing. Or Boehner’s tearful farewell. Redundant.
Or. Spend Halloween night chugging shots in between handing out Kit Kats to trick-or-treaters at the door. Apologize for your plaid pajamas. For your Vampira meets Bride of Frankenstein updo this year. Sorry about no pumpkins on the porch. Nor scary lights. They’ll get over it.
Can we get through one more?
Ichabod Crane. Dark knights. Must be that time of year again. Achieved a pumpkin-free zone. No gourds, dried stalks or Indian corn either. Okay. Cheap candy for kids. Trick or treat. All Hallow’s Eve. Once. Not an entire week.
Orange is the old black. I’ll be the usual. Rhymes with witch. Yeah. I rehearse all year. So. Just no. Crinkly Hillary cleavage. Ebola hazmat suits. Headless horsemen of Isis. Not too soon. Never. Make it stop. Is it Kranky Kristmas yet?
Hi. It’s me again. The Halloween-hater. It is over yet? A month of spooky plots on every show. Even the news. Women trolloping around in low-cut getups. Men strutting superhero suits. This is scary. A different kind of horror. Little zombies, goblins, witches. Fine. I’ll give you KitKats and KandyKorn. On Thursday.
Orange pumpkins can stay in the fields or on farm trucks. None at my house. They’d clash with resolute pink roses in our October garden.
Witch got her wish. Halloween buried under debris and snow. Trick’s on her. Laden tree limbs split and crashed all Saturday night. A huge one landed on roof. Sounded like a war zone out there. No power until late today. Be careful what you wish for, Skippy Hallow. Curbing curses to exclude old Oak trees.
Hot shower, heat. Now, that’s a treat. Happy Hallow!
Yup, it’s that time of year again. Skippy Hallow 2. Still hate Halloween. Can’t get enough of television hosts tarting up in pretend-brity costumes. Even more fun is flashbacks of their silly dressing in drag of years past. News? Shmews.
The tacky tradition started in Scotland with ‘guising’, kids disguising themselves on All Hallow’s Eve so evil spirits wouldn’t recognize them. Here’s the 411. They know who you are. As a witch, I predict this year, Grumpkin Goop. SnowySquashySoup.
Dr.Husband got the new iPhone 4S. Little did I know that it’d produce a rival. He’s cheating on me with Siri. It was bad enough when I heard him talking to her on the porch, but when he started posing kinky questions, I became alarmed. He bought her a ‘skin’. It may have to come down to Siri or me. She may win.
Serves me right. I’ve become addicted to a new reality soap, the dueling doctors of Michael Jackson. Also, A-Man gave me a good idea for a new book concept. Needed distractions from impending Halloween horrors. Snow Friday??!!
Boo you, Aunt CrankyPants. I like Halloween even though I can’t eat cheap candy yet. My father clearly doesn’t see that I’m about to burn my finger, how can I make my stock trades? My brother Chris shot a 77 yesterday, 18 holes. That would be your average for 9. Hope kids come to your door in droves dragging pimped out pets. At least Uncle G will give them a KitKat. Happy Halloween. Love, Jake