Here's a blog because NOBODY else has one!


Autumn looms, chilled like a moist towelette left in the freezer while you’re in the middle of Rib-Fest on the other side of the house. The frost grows now on the pumpkin, not because mornings are cold, but because it’s an aggressive strain of frost, whipped up from a mixture of devil loogies and grape Popsicle freezer burn. First, the pumpkins. Next, the neighbor’s schnauzer. And…finally…you…

Oh, one other thing.


It’s a time for the undying regret you live with all year to shuffle forth like sorrow zombies. Purge yourself of your failed efforts, indiscretions and occasional felonies. Bathe in the purifying rejuvenation of nougat and assorted chocolate confections. Here, I’ll go first.

nom nom nom

I’m sorry I confused “Milky Way” with “Three Musketeers”. Clearly, I’m a horrible, horrible person.

I’m sorry I compared your smile to a jack-‘o-lantern. It was rude. Still, burning me with your candle was uncalled for.

I’m sorry about my leather trick – or – treat bag. But was I supposed to do with all those scabs I’ve been saving?

I’m sorry the Halloween party broke up early. But if people don’t like to play bob-for-fingers, they should say so on the RSVP.

I’m sorry that “dead” isn’t a color. It totally should be.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was bringing a friend along. But what was I supposed to do? He wouldn’t stay in the casket.

I’m sorry I made fun of your costume. I totally wasn’t fooled, though. Wait…who are you? Oh, sorry, I thought you were Steve. But he doesn’t have two heads. My bad.

I’m sorry I screamed “This house is haunted!” In front of those people who wanted to buy your house. I really thought that shower curtain was spooky. Besides, I think you can probably collect insurance for the damage.

I’m sorry about sending your grandma the first prize for best costume. I thought she was a great zombie. I had no idea….well, my condolences.

I’m sorry for the rearranging of the pumpkins and other gourds on your porch. I agree phallic displays are not appropriate for Halloween. That’s totally a Christmas thing.

I’m sorry I called at midnight to see if you were still alive. Excuuuuuuuse me for caring about your mortality on all hallow’s eve.

I’m sorry I used super glue to hold my mask on, but those damn wimpy strings never stay attached. No big deal. I can be “Donnie Osmond” next Halloween too. And Thanksgiving. And Christmas. And, um, every other day.

I’m sorry I called the blood bank and said, “this is Dracula. Can I place a carry out order?” Ninety- seven times.

I’m NOT sorry I bought the ten pound bag of Reese’s Pieces at discount barn I AM sorry I ate the whole thing. And also sorry about your carpet.

I’m sorry I ruined your HALLOWEEN party. Excuse me if I wanted to play something more original than charades. I thought “reanimate the dead pets” would be timely and fun.

See you next HALLOWEEN! (Unless I can’t make bail.)


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