Oh The Douchebaggery

Yeah..
Not much new here. But I am supersticious and felt I had to say it aloud.

Yesterday was Halloween and, like every single other holiday ever, I was sick.

The majority of those reading this blog know me personally.

Can you remember some kind of holiday-related festivity when I was not under the weather?

It's as if my immune system detests parties.

So, I had a rad costume ( I know it was rad because I tested it out on the audience at "The Friends of Brown St. Park" get-together yesterday afternoon, to much acclaim) and a few parties to hit when I came down with a serious bout of "I feel like ass".

So, I bow out of my party-going, make a mess of mashed potatoes (nothing soothes the soul like dreamy, fluffy, carbs) and take to bed.

I was enjoying some Family Guy when the first of way too many trick-or-treaters came a 'knockin.

I had two bags of candy.
One was a mixed bag...Paydays, Whoppers, Heath Bars, Milk Duds...all respectable sweets.

I also had a reserve bag...the shangri-la! Reeses Cups.

I was hoping that I wouldn't have to dig in to my Reeses.

Not gonna' lie, I usually end up going out before all my candy has been distributed. So the second bag, the one holding the delicious chocolate/peanut butter goodness, was supposed to be all mine.

My very first costumed hellion, after receiving a box of milk-duds, looked at the bag on the foyer table and said, "Can I have one of those too?"

My precious cups?

I expected her mom to butt in, say something along the lines of, "Don't be rude", "Appreciate what you got", "Say thank you", or, I dunno, "I was clearly drunk when I conceived you, you bastard!"

No.

Nothing.

So, being the magnaminous person that I am, I opened my bag of Reeses and gave the brat her charitable due.

Folks, I know we are in an economic decline here, but, what the fuck?

I had more visitors/beggars last night than ever.

I swear people were pulling up in wagon trains.

I had thirty people at my door at one point. And some of them weren't even dressed up.
That pisses me off to no end.

I mean, if a stranger wearing sweats walks up to your door on any other night of the year and asks you for candy, do you give it to them?

Now, I know I may sound like a grinch. But come the fuck on!
If you are over the age of 14 and can't at least dab a little Clearisil under your eyes ala' Bride of Frankenstein, buy your own damn candy!

Traffic got so bad that I ran out prematurely and had to turn my lights out, fearing that I might get egged or t.p.'d.

I am done with holidays.

Bah Humbug.