It’s that time of year again. The little zombie hordes come out in droves, stumbling along the perfectly manicured streets looking for brains, okay, in this instance candy, but you get the picture. They come in packs, these short little monsters that trample our lawns to cut seconds off of their frenzied candy hunt. Their tiny made up faces looking up at you with eager anticipation. “What am I gonna get” they think as their little brains reel at the possibility of chocolate bars, chips, and candy of any type, “Just feed me!” “Maybe this guy will tire of handing out candy,” they hope “and just empty his whole bowl of treats into my bag”. You then drop a healthy red apple into their bag. Their shoulders slouch with disappointment and they give you the “Dude, not cool.” look. This is what not to do, don’t be a Halloweenie. Unless that apple has layers and layers of cavity extracting sticky caramel goodness on it, don’t even think of giving it out. I’m all about eating healthy, but Halloween is for indulgence. There is no four major food groups on Halloween, there is only one food group and it is called candy! Can I hear an amen. That’s right my brothers and sisters, it’s time for high blood sugar, rotten teeth and bloated bellies. Why do you think the little zombies look like they do? Candy. Sweet, sweet candy.

We all remember our childhoods, getting all dressed up in our costumes. We had to get dressed up twice. The pageant was the first, this is where you put the effort into your costume, it was all about form. If you we’re Luke Skywalker you had the tunic, the boots, the light saber and a button that said “I’m hot for my sister.” Luke that is, not me. Or if you we’re Magnum P.I., you had the moustache, the Hawaiian shirt and a button that said “My other vehicle is a helicopter.” Hey I grew up in the seventies, what can I say, we didn’t have a lot of role models. You would strut around school looking your best, marching in that endless parade through all of the other classrooms. If you forgot to plan ahead and decided to go as a hobo or a ghost ( the lamest of all Halloween costumes) that parade lasted an eternity. And if the eyes slits shifted in that ghost costume you were screwed, kids laughing at you as you bumped into desks. Social pariah in a bed sheet, a halloweenie if I ever saw one.

The second dress up was all about function, it was gonna be covered by a parka anyways, so wear just enough of a costume to get the candy, if you we’re Luke, then maybe just the boots and the wig, if it was Magnum you could get away with just the moustache (what’s creepy is old ladies used to love little boys in moustaches “We’ll aren’t you a handsome little man!”) I felt so dirty, but it was all for the candy, at least that’s what I told myself to make it through to the next house. It was all about mobility, you had to be in and out quick. Candy, next house, candy, next house. No pushing and shoving, we were all there for the same reason, come on people keep it moving. The more houses we hit, the more candy we get, was my motto. If my sister and I were doing it right it was hard for our parents to keep up, that was the sweet spot, pun intended. And all of you older kids, you know who you are, the ones that are just a little too old to be trick or treating. The ones that come up to your door, get their candy, jump in their car and drive away. Not cool, you are literally taking candy from a baby, get a job, get a life, don’t be a halloweenie. Take out your little brother trick or treating and when you get home steal his candy when he’s not looking, if he has enough he’ll never notice. That’s what big brothers are for.

Last but not least is the constant barrage, by Hollywood, of horror movies around Halloween. If I have to see another Saw I think I’ll kill myself… but in a weird and interesting way involving puzzles and clever conundrums so I can prolong the agony before I die a gruesome death. You see in the Saw movies that same scenario happens over and over again, stitched together with feeble and barely cohesive plot points but the scary part is at the end of it, I’m still alive and out 14 bucks!!! The horror… And one more thing, The Human Centipede!! WTF, like WTF times a hundred. Can you imagine pitching that idea to your mother? “You see Ma, the people are sewn together ass too mouth, Ma wait where are you going? I’m not even at the best part yet…” Someone please write a script where Jigsaw and the human centipede devour each other in a daisy chain of filth and debauchery and then never, ever film it. Don’t be a Halloweenie Hollywood, spread your horror over some of the other festive seasons please, let’s not cram it all into one month, I can only take so much depravity, and that’s just the writing, bah dum bum!

So go out and indulge, toilet paper a house, take your kid out trick or treating, go a little crazy, dress up, make a mess, eat some junk, make the holiday what it was meant to be. Fun.

Don’t be a Halloweenie, it’s Halloween!


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