Twenty-seven, everyone was nice.
Gotta see ‘em make ‘em pay the price.
See their bodies out on the ice.
Take my time.
Am I evil? Yes I am.
DiamondHead/Metallica, Am I Evil?
You’d probably be surprised to learn of Mister Faded Glory’s distaste for Halloween. Sure, we may dabble in black magic and drugstore Satanism, but it’s all reactionary, designed to inflame losers who aren’t immediately convinced of our irreverent cool. Failing that, it’s simply a testament to our devotion to heavy metal.
But Halloween is lame. First, costumes are annoying. They’re annoying on kids, they’re way annoying on adults, and it’s an indictment of our stupid country that Halloween costumes are a billion-dollar industry. A billion-dollar industry. Seriously, moms and dads are outraged at slinky girls’ costumes, but isn’t it more outrageous that each year, bands of idiots fork over life savings just to escape failed personas?
Even now, an entire department on my floor dressed up as witches and goblins, at work, all day today. How in the world a person has the energy, much less the motivation to spend all morning in makeup to look like a fool is beyond me. (Full disclosure: I almost joined the masses and wore my Bob Sanders jersey, going as the baddest motherfucker on the planet, but I decided against it.) Work is bad enough – it’s even worse when including special-occasion camaraderie, displayed by Bonnie in shipping passing out fucking candy corn balls.
Secondly, it invades my relentless TV viewing. For two weeks leading up, we’re forced to stomach reruns of The Simpsons’ interminably tired Treehouses of Horror instead of actual shows. Also, at night don’t plan on channel surfing, unless you like watching cheap-to-air horror flicks five hundred times in a row, like Halloween H20, or the remake of Night of the Living Dead, or stupid TV shows’ special Halloween episodes. (Although Quantum Leap’s 1990 episode was awesome, when Sam tangled with the Devil in a dream.)
Finally, it’s the kids. OK, fine, it’s fun to dress up and play scared, but it’s not so fun for me, now that I live in midtown America, confronted with thousands of whiny trick-or-treaters. (Note: to commemorate this holiday, I will be wearing my new (!) Angel Pagan Cubs shirt. A joke sadly lost on these packs of rugrats.) Anyway, my idea of a good time is not tossing Kit Kats at third-graders, who promptly spout off, wishing we had Twix and then asking for a second bar.
In case you’re wondering, our house is giving away Blow Pops, not just because they’re cheap, but because of the juvenile sex undertones I get while watching Ms. Faded Glory suck on leftovers, plus I giggle each time we discuss the candy, often misconstruing the name ‘Blow Pops.’ Oh, stop judging me. I’m married, this is about as close as I usually get. Hmm. Maybe Halloween isn’t so bad.
In case you were wondering, top five worst Halloween Candies:
1. Nerds. Kids love these pure sugar monstrosities. But try getting purple dye off your tongue. Gross.
2. Almond Joy. Seriously, there’s no freaking joy in almonds. None whatsoever. Hate to break it to you.
3. Those horrendous orange and black wrapped mush balls. You know what I’m talking about. Nice treat, cheap-o. I don’t wish to use extreme hyperbole, but people who dole these out should be shot.
4. Bit-O-Honey This stuff has been getting a bad rap lately, first on Scrubs, then on ESPN’s FirstTake. It’s deserved, this stuff is poison.
5. Smarties. Gee, thanks for lacing my candy with meth, strychnine, crack, or heroin, weird guy. Much appreciated.
