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you've RUINED HALLOWEEN!
Halloween here was very cold, but we still got a few kids. Older ones who could go outside without dying.
I can't quite get my patter right. "Hello there, Spectre of Death! Hello, Scary Pirate!" Also shrieked, "NO! Jeez, you'll burn yourself!" at a Dad who picked up his son's lightsaber by the blade. It's odd to feel a kid looking at you funny from behind a Darth Vader helmet. But they got candy and soft toys, so they didn't complain. (I save unopened fast-food toys and minis to hand out. They're always the first to go.)
Now the candy goes in the freezer, and I get my work basket back.
This wasn't one of the classics. No night of screaming with Sharon and Susan, no theatre full of teenagers watching Halloween or Rocky Horror, no running home shrieking in terror (and lapping Dad!) when some fucker answers the door via intercom: "Whoooooo's therrrrrrre? WHOOOOOOOOO'S THERRRRRRRRRE???" But that's okay. Even a dullish Halloween is good. I felt a positively Dickensian flood of holiday spirit.
Or Burtonian. Whatever.
There was also a kid in Target wearing a full-body Stitch suit, the spacesuit with the extra arms dangling on fishing line. Awesome. His poor baby sister was, humiliatingly, dressed as Piglet. Her folks will show her dates photos of this in 15 years, eventually driving her to the Greyhound station and a life of dissipated prostitution on the Sunset Strip. Parents, for the love of God, think about what you're doing!
My own childhood costumes, once I was big enough to have a say in them, sucked. This was, I think, because I insisted on making them and hadn't a clue what I was doing. This has continued into adulthood, including yesterday's black sequined devil tail, which kept dropping off as though I were a panicky lizard. The only success I can recall was the time when I improvised three bullet wounds to the forehead, done in El Marko at the office. Should you ever want to try it, the key is shading the holes properly to show you've drilled through a centimeter of skull.
I...um...I seem to have wandered off my topic a bit. My point is, I hope you had a happy Halloween, and please enjoy your Crazy Mexican Dead People Christmas.
I can't quite get my patter right. "Hello there, Spectre of Death! Hello, Scary Pirate!" Also shrieked, "NO! Jeez, you'll burn yourself!" at a Dad who picked up his son's lightsaber by the blade. It's odd to feel a kid looking at you funny from behind a Darth Vader helmet. But they got candy and soft toys, so they didn't complain. (I save unopened fast-food toys and minis to hand out. They're always the first to go.)
Now the candy goes in the freezer, and I get my work basket back.
This wasn't one of the classics. No night of screaming with Sharon and Susan, no theatre full of teenagers watching Halloween or Rocky Horror, no running home shrieking in terror (and lapping Dad!) when some fucker answers the door via intercom: "Whoooooo's therrrrrrre? WHOOOOOOOOO'S THERRRRRRRRRE???" But that's okay. Even a dullish Halloween is good. I felt a positively Dickensian flood of holiday spirit.
Or Burtonian. Whatever.
There was also a kid in Target wearing a full-body Stitch suit, the spacesuit with the extra arms dangling on fishing line. Awesome. His poor baby sister was, humiliatingly, dressed as Piglet. Her folks will show her dates photos of this in 15 years, eventually driving her to the Greyhound station and a life of dissipated prostitution on the Sunset Strip. Parents, for the love of God, think about what you're doing!
My own childhood costumes, once I was big enough to have a say in them, sucked. This was, I think, because I insisted on making them and hadn't a clue what I was doing. This has continued into adulthood, including yesterday's black sequined devil tail, which kept dropping off as though I were a panicky lizard. The only success I can recall was the time when I improvised three bullet wounds to the forehead, done in El Marko at the office. Should you ever want to try it, the key is shading the holes properly to show you've drilled through a centimeter of skull.
I...um...I seem to have wandered off my topic a bit. My point is, I hope you had a happy Halloween, and please enjoy your Crazy Mexican Dead People Christmas.
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Best Halloween prezzie ever? Finding out Sasha Baron Kitty got adopted, huzzah!! I went to the Humane Society page and he ain't there no mo. According to them, any cat who was featured there but isn't there now got a home. *beams*
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