My apologies if you read the condensed version of this last year.
As I wrote last week, I absolutely love Halloween. In addition to the aforementioned reasons, Halloween holds a special place in my heart due to two momentous occasions.
Eight years ago, Ella and I moved into our very first home on Halloween. We had been living together for four-and-a-half years, moving from apartment to apartment to rental home. Finally, we had scraped together enough money to buy a nice little starter home in a new subdivision.
We moved boxes and furniture into the house all day long. That evening, we sat by the door, waiting for all the cute little Trick-or-Treaters. But since we were only the third house built in that subdivision, we only had two visitors all evening. But we still had fun. IN OUR VERY OWN HOME.
Life was good. Really good.
But we weren't married yet. So the next year, I decided to propose (yes, for those of you doing the math, we had been dating five-and-a-half years at this point). But I didn't want to just take her out to dinner and put a ring in a fortune cookie or something like that. So I decided to propose to her on Halloween.
I had it all worked out in my head: I would take a trick-or-treat bucket, fill it with candy, and hide the ring inside. Pure genius! And semi-romantic, right? I would have our next-door neighbor's two-year-old daughter deliver it to us under the guise that she got "too much candy." Like there is such a thing to a kid.
The only problem? I forgot to tell my neighbor about the plan. I went over there about 7:00 PM on Halloween evening and told him what I wanted them to do. But his daughter had already had her bath and was getting ready for bed. I begged and pleaded with him, and he finally agreed to put her costume back on and come over to our house (I did buy him a six-pack the next day).
I hurried home. Five minutes later the doorbell rang. My neighbor said, "Susie got a lot of candy tonight. We figured you guys might like some." After Ella made a fuss over Susie's Tigger costume, they left and we sat down. Ella said, "Let's see what we got!" She started rummaging through the bucket and found the ring box. She pulled it out and smiled. I opened the box, got down on one knee, and... well, I guess you can figure out what happened next.
Poor Ella. She should've just eaten the candy.
Happy Halloween, everyone!
The Scariest (Or Mushiest, Depending Upon Your Perspective) Halloween Story Ever Told
Youthful Idiocy: The Haunted Forest
Part 4 of a 14,389,003-part series that serves as a reminder that every time one of my kids does something dumb, I've done something dumber.
When I was young, we had a great set of woods in our neighborhood. A maze of trails. Abandoned treehouses and clubhouses built by children before us. A creek. Several bridges. Tire swings. A separate section of dirt trails perfect for bicycle jumping. A crazy man who lived in a shack, armed with a shotgun, a hatred of children, and lots of Styrofoam cups.
And the whole thing backed up to a prison camp. Suburbia rocks!
One year, the four of us decided to turn our beloved woods into a Haunted Forest for Halloween. Since there were only four of us, it was a rather daunting task. We worked every day after school and all day on the weekends for a solid month.
Here was the basic setup:
One of us was the trail guide while the other three of us would scare you through the subtle art of rubber masks and yelling. The trail guide led you by flashlight through the woods to our three major scary places. At Point A, you would touch eyeballs (peeled grapes; we were savvy veterans of the whole elementary school haunted house scene) and the three of us would jump out and scare you. At Point B, you would hear scary noises (the four of us moaning) played over a cassette player and the three of us would jump out and scare you. At Point C, the guide would pull a rope that would cause leaves to fall on your head (ooh! scary!) and the three of us would jump out and scare you. We even had secret trails that would allow the three of us to move quickly from Point A to Point B to Point C. We were quite clever.
Yeah, I know. It was actually very lame. But we were kids. And we were only charging two bucks.
On Halloween Eve, we practiced for several hours. Come Halloween night, we were ready. Except for one little thing.
You know that whole "if you build it, he will come" line of thought?
Total bullshit.
No one showed up. Not even our parents.
The one thing we forgot? Advertising.
We had not told anyone we were doing this.
We had not erected any signs to let people know our Haunted Forest existed.
We were idiots.
We sat in the woods all Halloween evening, freezing our asses off like sad little Linuses awaiting The Great Pumpkin.
Only Lucy never came to put us to bed.
Related:
Youthful Idiocy: Fish In A Barrel
Youthful Idiocy: The Fifth Grade Flea Market In A Bag
Youthful Idiocy: The Great Playboy Heist
Stuff Only I Care About XXIV
Weekly Random Thoughts On The Yankees
According to Yankees GM Brian Cashman and A-Rod's agent, Scott Boras, Alex Rodriguez will be back in pinstripes next year. This is bad.The Yankees picked up Gary Sheffield's $13 million option for next season. This is good. However, Sheff seems very disgruntled about the situation as he was hoping to sign a three-year deal with some other team. A pissed off Sheffield? This is very, very bad.
Weekly Random Thoughts On The Carolina Panthers
The Panthers lost to the Bengals last weekend, their first loss since Steve Smith returned to the lineup. Tonight, they get to tee-off on Tony Romo. Should be a fun game for Peppers!NaBloPoMo Me
I've been running the graphic for NaBloPoMo for the past week, which means I've decided to participate in the writing activity – one post per day for the month of November. Considering I only manage two or three posts a week and most of those suck, it should be a rather interesting month. In fact, you might want to come back in December.Since I'll be writing so often, I should be out of ideas by the 6th or so. I'm open to any suggestions. If you'd like to see me write about a particular topic or event, leave a request in the comments.
Sunday Morning Hangover
Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:- Kristen celebrates Suckoween.
- L meets a dad from another parenting planet.
- Mothergoosemouse discusses religion with her daughter.
- Rebecca shares costumes from Halloweens past.
- Sarah meets Super Mom.
- The Weirdgirl creates a new euphemism for sex.
Want To Hear Something Really Scary?
Ok. So maybe the following songs aren't actually scary, but they all have a spooky feel about them, either lyrically or musically. Enjoy!
Screamin' Jay Hawkins I Put A Spell On You
A classic. The first song everybody thinks of when the subject turns to scary music.
Gerard McMann Cry Little Sister
This is the theme song from The Lost Boys. This song is scary. Killer organ.
The Doors People Are Strange
Not really a scary song, but it always creeped me out for some reason. Echo & The Bunnymen covered this song for the aforementioned The Lost Boys soundtrack.
John Carpenter Halloween Theme
Haunting. That piano riff gets stuck in your head. Very suspenseful.
Nine Inch Nails Something I Can Never Have
Much in the vein of the Halloween Theme, this song employs an eerie piano riff. My favorite NIN song ever.
The Misfits Halloween
Glenn Danzig is the scariest singer ever. Or so he thinks.
Concrete Blonde Bloodletting
Vampires!
Faith No More Surprise! You're Dead!
Scarier vampires!
Violent Femmes Country Death Song
I try to put at least one Femmes song on every mix I make. And this song is about a guy killing his daughter, so it fits.
Citizens Of Halloween Town This Is Halloween
Ella and I love The Nightmare Before Christmas (I'll prove it to you in a few weeks (with pictures!)). It pains me to see all the little pseudo-Goth kids carrying their Jack Skellington purses.
Ramones Chain Saw
Worth hearing just to hear Joey Ramone massacre the word massacre.
AC/DC Hells Bells
What's scarier than the Devil?
Rolling Stones Sympathy For The Devil
Ibid.
Leonard Cohen Everybody Knows
I know this song isn't technically scary, but it just has a spooky vibe about it. Dude could make Mary Had A Little Lamb sound scary.
And finally, the scariest song ever recorded:
Ace Of Base The Sign
I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes
I saw the sign
No one's gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong
But where do you belong?
You guys know this song is about Satan, right? The Sign of the Beast? Or is it just me?
Songs intentionally omitted from this list because they suck:
Don't Fear The Reaper
Ghostbusters
Monster Mash
Somebody's Watching Me
Thriller
Werewolves Of London
Most death/speed metal
So what are some of your favorite scary songs?
More Holiday Music:
Mother's Day (Mothers immortalized in song)
The Cynical Dad Xmas 2005 Mix Tape
It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year
Some people get excited when Christmas rolls around. Others long for Thanksgiving family get-togethers. Me? I live for Halloween.
Halloween gets a bad rap. Churches, schools, and even entire communities try to castrate Halloween with their stupid "Fall Festivals" and whatnot. Halloween is not evil. It's about having fun. It's the one day of the entire year where it's socially acceptable to be whatever you want to be.
Here are some of the many things I love about the Halloween season:
- The weather
- Bonfires
- Pumpkin patches
- Decorations
- Horror movies
- Hayrides
- Costumes
- Fall festivals
- Playing tricks on people
- Watching my kids go door-to-door begging for candy
- Eating most of their candy when they're not looking
What are some of your favorite things about the Halloween season?
Down On The Farm
Despite the fact that there are those of you who think I look like a rapist, a drug dealer, someone posing for a mug shot, Charles Manson, or, even worse, Robert Downey Jr., I was allowed to be a chaperone on my daughter's preschool field trip. So bite me.
Yesterday, we headed off to E. coli Happy Times Farm and Petting Zoo. The teachers put me in the same minivan as the Wild Boys, hoping that they would listen to me because I was a guy. As if. I was not an authority figure in these children's eyes. I was not their parents. I was not their teachers. I was a glorified substitute teacher. And even four-year-olds know you're supposed to torture substitutes. It wouldn't have mattered if I was male, female, or somewhere in between, they wouldn't have listened to me. And they didn't.
Armed with empty threats and a 55-gallon drum of Purell, we ventured into the farm. The kids had a great time. They were able to pet cows, pigs, horses, goats, turtles, sheep, llamas, and donkeys. They were also able to see ostriches, emus, chickens, and a camel. But I learned something yesterday.
Four-year-olds? Have no survival skills whatsoever.
If we were like other creatures and set our offspring into the wild after a few months (or even a few years), we would be extinct. I watched countless children try to feed their fingers to horses instead of petting them on top of their noses.
I saw a small boy charge at a fenced ostrich (at least he wasn't a total moron; the ostrich was a baby so it was about his size). The ostrich saw him and went charging at him. I was halfway across the field, so all I could do was think, "Here comes an ER trip." But luckily, a mom came in and swooped up the boy before a fight broke out.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to teach Zoey some survival skills. You'd think having a little brother would teach her to keep her fingers away from animals' mouths. No such luck.
More Stupid Searches
Wow. It's been three months since I've done this. Here are some recent interesting/amusing/demented search phrases people have used to get to my site:
I love you more than my dad's '61 ferrari
How sweet. This should be on a Hallmark card.
scary bubble wrap game
I have no idea what this means, but I get about ten visitors a day via this search term. Any idea?
big chocolate cupcakes titties
Yum!
top 5 rap metal songs of all time
Are there five?
"no self respecting girl would"
... read Cynical Dad. I love it when you folks create a new slogan for me.
talking her into fellatio
Good luck.
art alexakis yelling at my mom
Just remind him Everclear hasn't had a hit in years. That should shut him up.
what does it mean when a baby sticks out her tongue repeatedly
It means she hates you. You should've gotten a dog instead.
sorority girls on vacation kiss
Someone's been watching too many late-night Girls Gone Wild infomercials.
girls do it for camcorder
See above.
My child has hand foot and mouth disease how long before she can play with friends
It depends. Do you have a score to settle with any of her friends' parents?
Gorilla Potty Training
Christ. And I thought potty training my daughter was hard.
somehow I managed to come across as an illiterate moron
You've come to the right place! Maybe we should start a support group?
Can a girl dwarf hamster and a boy golden hamster live together without fighting or mating?
It's been my experience that a boy and girl anything cannot live together without fighting or mating.
Did Victorian children have pets?
Yes. Until suppertime.
i have nothing to write about
Neither do I. Why in the hell do you think I'm listing my search terms?
Here are my three favorite children's television searches:
- stephanie lazytown dead
- dora and boots having sex
- elmo zoey sex positions
- coloring book pic of male loins
- how did the blood and crib gangs begin
Previous Search Engine Fun:
More Stupid People Doing Stupid Searches
In Lieu Of An Actual Entry, Let's Make Fun Of Stupid People!
Stuff Only I Care About VIII
Stuff Only I Care About VI
Stuff Only I Care About IV
Stuff Only I Care About
Looks Like I'm Raising One Of Those Jesus Camp Kids
Zed and I were reading on the couch. Zoey, the World's Youngest Christian Rock Superstar, came swaggering into the room, carrying her guitar. She stood in the middle of the room and asked, "Does anyone want to hear a song about the Bible?"
"Um, sure," I replied with not enough enthusiasm to appease my daughter.
"I said, 'DOES ANYONE WANT TO HEAR A SONG ABOUT THE BIBLE?'"
"We do!"
She smiled, put the guitar on her hip, and began singing.
"1-2-3-4!*
I love God and God loves me!
I love Jesus too!
I see Jesus and Jesus sees me!
I read the Bible every day!
Yeah!"
"Thank you and good night**," she added as I applauded.
Kindergarten starts next fall. And so does the separation of church and education.
********************************
*She listens to entirely too many Ramones songs. Sue me. But Zoey's more punk than the Ramones — she only uses one chord!
**I taught her that. I suppose I could be teaching her useful things like reading, but having her say, "Thank you and good night!" is much more fun.
Youthful Idiocy: Fish In A Barrel
Part 3 of a 14,389,003-part series that serves as a reminder that every time one of my kids does something dumb, I've done something dumber.
When I was a kid, there was a creek that ran through our neighborhood. It wasn't much of a creek, only about ten feet wide at its broadest point. But if it merely sprinkled, the thing flooded like crazy. During these floods, we would watch from our windows as a single Styrofoam cup would float down the creek every five minutes. The cups were rumored to be the work of the crazy man that lived in the shack deep in the woods, but that was never confirmed. But every flood, a cup would float down the creek every five minutes. Creepy.
The creek was also home to Injury Rock. Injury Rock was a huge ramp-like rock that jutted out over the creek. When we were bored, we would take turns attempting to jump the creek on our bikes off Injury Rock. I'm sure you can figure out how it got its name.
The creek was also home to crawdads, tadpoles, frogs, snakes, turtles, and lots of other things that little boys hold near and dear to their hearts.
And fish. Lots and lots of tiny fish.
Most of the fish were smaller than our ten-year-old hands. But that didn't stop us from catching them. Armed with bread and tiny hooks, we would cast our line near the rocks at the bottom of the creek. If you waited long enough, a fish would swim out from underneath a rock. Since these fish had very small mouths, you had to act fast. You had to hook them just as they touched the bait or you would never catch a fish. It was hard work, but we always managed to catch plenty of fish.
One day, after fishing for several hours with someone who couldn't quite get the hang of it, I had a great idea: catch a lot of fish, put them in a big barrel, and charge other kids to fish in the barrel. I had been to a stocked pond before and knew there was Big Money to be had in such a venture.
So the four of us headed down to the creek one day and spent the entire afternoon fishing. When we finished, we carried our buckets of fish to Chuckie's house and filled a large plastic garbage can with water from the garden hose. We dumped all our fish in the garbage can and went home for the evening.
We didn't realize what happens when you put fish in tap water.
The next morning, we woke up and found all of the fish floating at the top of the garbage can.
Damn it! Another foolproof plan undone by fools!
So we lugged the garbage can to the woods and dumped the fish. We did learn another lesson from this experience: Forty tiny fish, after stewing in the hot summer sun for several days, can smell like you have a dead whale in your backyard.
Related:
Youthful Idiocy: The Fifth Grade Flea Market In A Bag
Youthful Idiocy: The Great Playboy Heist
This Picture Is Probably Worth Three Words
I tuned into FOX tonight expecting to see Game 1 of the ALCS between the Yankees and the Twins, but for some reason they were showing a Tigers-Athletics game. The hell?
If you're a regular reader of my site, you know I had a bet going with Mrs. Fortune. A bet I was sure I was going to win. But I didn't.
If the Yankees had beaten the Tigers (which they might have if anyone remembered how to drive in a run), she would have sent me a basket of delicious goodies. But since the Yankees lost to the Tigers, I have to post a picture of myself wearing a Red Sox shirt.
Zed and I went looking for a t-shirt on Monday, but none of the local Goodwills had any Red Sox shirts. So I was forced to go the mall. I went to Sports Fan Attic (which, in addition to being quite a clever play on words, is quite a cool store) and checked out the shirts. I looked for a current Sox shirt, something along the lines of Third Place AL East, 2006, but I guess they don't commemorate such things. Go figure. So I hit the clearance rack and found the shirt in the picture below.
And believe it or not, it didn't burn my skin when I put it on my body. But I do feel very unclean. I will take twenty showers after I post this.
Now, before you look, I have to warn you: I kind of look like a serial killer. So if you have any small children, you might want to make them leave the room before you proceed.
Update: One thing I neglected to mention earlier was the only stipulation to our bet: I only had to leave the picture online for seventy-two hours. Guess what? Time's up!
Thank you all for your lovely comments.
Stuff Only I Care About XXIII
Weekly Random Thoughts On The Yankees
God damn it.Those three words pretty much sum up my thoughts on the Yankees this week. But I'll elaborate.
Greatest lineup ever? The one Jeremy Bonderman held hitless for five innings?
Greatest lineup ever? The one Kenny Rogers held scoreless for seven and two thirds?
Greatest lineup ever? The one that went scoreless for twenty straight innings during the series?
Greatest lineup ever? If they were, they sure as hell didn't play like it.
I don't want to take anything from the Tigers. They played great. They played like a T-E-A-M. They played like they wanted to win. Hell, watching Kenny Rogers pitch Friday night, seeing his excitement after each Yankee out, I was almost rooting for him (why the hell did he never pitch like that when he was a Yankee?).
But the Yankees sucked.
Please get some pitching in the offseason. And no pitchers older than me, please.
Please get rid of A-Rod. I'm not usually one to bash players on my favorite teams (with the exception of Jaret Wright, whom I'm never liked), but I think it's time to trade A-Rod. When we need a big hit, he strikes out or grounds into a double play. His ego is too fragile for New York. Let him go play for some low-profile noncontender so he can flourish once again.
And for those of you looking for my picture, it'll be posted later this week. I wasn't planning on losing this bet (like most people, including all nineteen of ESPN's "experts," I thought the Yankees would have no problem with the Tigers), so I need to get a Sox shirt.
UPDATE 1:46 AM: If ESPN is correct and George Steinbrenner fires Joe Torre tomorrow, he is a fool. Torre isn't the problem. Pitching is. And A-Rod.
Weekly Random Thoughts On The Carolina Panthers
The Panthers have beaten Tampa Bay and the previously unbeaten Saints since Steve Smith returned to the lineup. He is their offense. I look for them to improve to 3-2 on the season with a lopsided victory over the Browns on Sunday.And they'll be an even better team when John Fox finally realizes DeAngelo Williams should receive the majority of carries.
Will YouTube Give MTV The Sack?
Billy Bragg was on Craig Ferguson's show this past week. He performed an updated version of Waiting For The Great Leap Forwards that trashes, among other things, the current administration. My favorite new lyrics:And I don't believe we can defeat no Axis Of Evil
By putting smart bombs in the hands of dumb people
If you want to see the performance, click here.
A Killer Album
The Killers released their second album, Sam's Town, earlier this week. I was a big fan of their debut album (I put them at #80 on my Top 100 albums list), but Sam's Town blows Hot Fuss away. It's an amazing album!So go buy it, download it, shoplift it, or do whatever you do to get your music.
I'm Not Making This Up
Twisted Sister is releasing a Christmas album. I love Christmas covers and hair bands, so you know I'll be picking this up. Sad.Sunday Morning Hangover
Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:- Chris offers his opinion on the Foley fiasco.
- Jozet deals with a bat in her home (this is the funniest thing I've read in a while).
- Lindsay is in love with a Wiggle.
- Mamatulip shares a glimpse of the love in her house.
- Rebecca believes we should remove the blindfolds from our children's eyes.
- Steve celebrates his anniversary.
Maybe Christmas Will Come Early This Year
The kids and I have been sick the past few days, so we've spent quite a bit of lazy time either watching TV or reading. Today, Zoey was flipping through the Party City catalog, trying to decide what she wanted to be for Halloween.
Ella made Zoey's first two costumes. She made Zed's first costume. We're done with that game; it's only store-bought, mass-produced costumes from here on out. Conformity rocks!
After much consideration and flip-flopping, Zoey finally decided on this:
A Barbie Fairytopia Mermaidia costume. Of course, by the time we get everyone well enough to actually go costume shopping, she will have changed her mind three hundred times.
And then she asked me, "Do Mommies and Daddies wear costumes?" "Yes, some do," I replied. "Do you want Mommy and Daddy to wear costumes?"
"YES!" she exclaimed as she began studying the adult women's costumes. She picked this one:
"I like this one."
"So does Daddy."
"I like pink."
"Me too."
"I think Mommy should be this for Halloween."
"Me too."
And Zoey? If you're reading this and talk Mommy into purchasing that outfit, I'll buy you a pony. And everything in the toy store.
Putting My Ugly Mug Where My Mouth Is
The Major League Baseball playoffs start today. As my regular readers know, I am a huge Yankees fan. They begin a best-of-five series with Detroit tonight.
I've got a wager going with Mrs. Fortune, an unfortunate Tigers fan. When the Yankees win (notice I didn't say if), Mrs. Fortune will be sending me a basket of delicious goodies.
And if the unthinkable happens and the Tigers actually beat the Yankees? I have to post a picture of my trollish self wearing a Red Sox t-shirt. Mrs. Fortune figured it would be more painful for me to wear a Red Sox shirt than a Tigers shirt.
She was right.
GO YANKEES!
Baby? On Board
We were sitting at a fast food restaurant this weekend. A young girl (I've never been good guessing women's ages (or anyone else for that matter), but I would guess she was somewhere between 16 and 20) came in carrying a tiny baby and headed straight for the restroom. Her mother, carrying a child carrier and the child's blanket, sat at a nearby table while her father ordered the food. After a few moments, the girl came out of the restroom, holding the baby tight to her chest while burping the child.
I exchanged an awkward I've-got-a-kid-too smile with her. Actually, all of my exchanged smiles are awkward; I'm as socially inept as they come. I turned my attention back to coercing Zoey to eat more than 1/16th of a chicken nugget.
Ella noticed the girl burping the baby. "That's a tiny baby," she whispered to me. "No lie. She must have popped that pup out yesterday," I replied.
Five minutes later, we decided to leave. As we were getting up, I noticed the girl was still burping the baby. As we passed her, I took a quick glance at the child. I did a triple-take to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing.
The girl was burping a doll. The hell?
I had no idea why she was pretending to have a child. Or why she was going to such extremes with the ten-minute burpathon and the carrier and everything else. I figured it must be part of some Home Ec class (or Domestic Engineering class or whatever politically correct empowering term they're using nowadays). But when I was in high school, the kids in Home Ec carried around an egg for a week.
An egg. Not a doll. Certainly not a doll with a carrier.
What gives? Do I just need to get out more?
