Life ain’t fair, my giant gourd-like friend.
My wife looks at me sideways when I offer High Life to the parents. From this day forward, the hastily-painted, blaze orange and black jack-o-lantern beer cooler that sits by the door will be the official Halloween mascot of the Pennington home. Happy Halloween, and save a Milky Way dark for me!
James Traficant! He has to be somewhere in L'Enfer. Loved this post on my favorite day of the year.
I notice, curiously, that nowhere do you clarify “minimum” regarding the amount of candy you’ll be withholding from the poor children.
Reese's peanut butter cups -- they're impishly delicious!
I am too old to trick or treat and I am a Wisconsiite, not an Ohioan. Still, I think I would experience personal growth if I created a James Traficant costume for myself. But what would be the point if I didn't share it with others, even if they didn't recognize who I was "going as." And that phrase - "going as" - does imply some sort of human engagement outside my hovel.
Erin O'Brien, why did you do this to me? You know, get me swimming in all this heady stuff with just an off-handed name drop of a ridiculous, disgraced politician from ages ago?
I know what you are going to say: "Because I'm a writer, kiddo."
Or do I?