Topical stoop on our block.
The three stooges. Kavanaugh with Corona beer. Gay pride flag for Gorsuch. A Hanger for Barrett. RIP RBG. And. Melania’s coat.
Well done, neighbor!
Folly Age
Nothing is as it seems. What’s wrong with this photo? It shows bright Fall Foliage. Not this year. Cars parked along Central Park West. Not this year. It’s now a bike lane. I’m outside. Not this year. The bleachers for the Macy’s Parade. Not this year. No bleachers. No parade.
Trick or Treating. Not this year. Skippy Hallow. For real. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But. Not for this reason. Thanksgiving travel. Not this year. Discouraged today by Mayor De Blasio with Fauci et al.
Faulty election pollsters. Not this year. They are probably right. Right?
City Skippy Hallow
It’s happening again. The annual annoyance. Trepidatious trigger. Menacing micro-aggression. Halloween.
City stoops draped with creepy crawly spider-infested cobwebs. Blood. Gore. Headless horsemen. Cheap candy. Slutty witches. Pornographic princess costumes. Men in Marvel spandex. Crinkly skin. Gross. 
Kids are cute. Until 10-years old. Then. Just. Cut it out. No not the jack-o-lantern. Trick-or-Treating. Arcane holiday. Let it go.
Costume Correctness
Halloween costumes this year. Nope!!
Ghost. Appropriating unsettled dead people.
Witch. Appropriating coven worshippers.
Fortnite Blue Hair. Appropriating Smurfness.
Chimney Sweep. Black face.
Mariachi Skeleton.
Appropriating Mexican grave dwellers.
You get the idea. Skippy Hallow. 2018.
Bats in the Belfry
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?
Skippy Hollow As Always
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?
Thorny Hallow
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. 
Trik Too Far
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! 
Grumpkin
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.
iScared
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. Â Also, A-Man gave me a good idea for a new book concept. Needed distractions from impending Halloween horrors. Snow Friday??!!
Side Trek . NYC 