Thank God Halloween is Days Away!

It was foggy as hell this morning! Man, I love foggy as hell weather. It's depressing, though, because I was on my way to work instead of riding across the countryside on a stolen BMX, clad all in black, a cape billowing behind me, my head concealed beneath a high collar, swinging a rusted cutlass and lopping off the heads of all children who dared gaze upon my hideous visage. I'd hollow out their brains and implant candles, and these macabre jack o'lanterns I'd hurl at my next victims. I'd strike them in the back, the lower back, and they'd go down, throosh, in a mess of corn and candle wax and I'd ride my stallion—or my pink 2-speed with crossbar—round and round them, filling their last moments with utter confusion. "Ha!" I'd yell. "Ha!" "What?!" they'd scream. "Boom!" I'd yell. "What?" "Meow!" I'd say, and lunge.

I love the hell out of halloween. Man, I love it. When else do you see scads of goth girls running around in fishnets? Huh? When? Never! And when else are there haunted houses, and glowing orange booze, and cookies in the shapes of mummies?

Thank God Halloween is days away.

I'd declare this weekend an honorary October, but I think it'll be too hot.

I was just at the coffee shop across the street. The two women with me would not stop hinting, very loudly, that I should go talk to this gangly girl ordering a latte. "Might want to take off that scurvy sweater," and "go!" and ugh, it was terrible. Thankfully I survived, but I have brought back this discount danish and now I'm fat as hell. Fat as hell.

Last Halloween we rubbed purple mascara over my eye and told Alyssa's family she'd punched me. It looked pretty good. Except for the bits of glitter.