Now that my kids are older, Halloween is a different experience. When the kids were younger, we were all wrapped up in carving pumpkins, creating costumes, and trick-or-treating. Everyone was involved, and it was a big deal. This year, G was out making deliveries until about 9pm, Jared went to the football game, and Tyler took off to trick-or-treat with his friends, which left me and the dogs to greet the ghouls and goblins. It was kind of a drag, but I stationed myself by the door with some vodka, a peanut butter sandwich, my laptop, and my candy bucket.
Suddenly, there's a knock at the door, and it was the Bosslady and her good pal Vanessa. Noticing that I was not only alone, but also watching HGTV and reading blog comments, the Bosslady (who can be relied on for keeping it real) said, "Addie, you're like a drag-queen shut-in with your HGTV and your blog on Halloween!"
I wonder what she would have thought if she'd seen me washing down my peanut butter sandwich with vodka tonics?
Happy Halloween!
A cabbie picks up a Nun. She gets into the cab, and notices that the VERY handsome cab driver won't stop staring at her.
She asks him why he is staring. He replies: "I have a question to ask, but I don't want to offend you."
She answers, "My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."
"Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me."
She responds, "Well, let's see what we can do about that, under two conditions: #1, you have to be single and #2, you must be Catholic."
The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I'm single and Catholic!"
"OK" the nun says. "Pull into the next alley."
The nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush.
But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.
"My dear child," said the nun, "Why are you crying?"
"Forgive me but I've sinned. I lied and I must confess; I'm married and I'm Jewish."
The nun says, "That's OK. My name is Keith and I'm going to a Halloween party."
She asks him why he is staring. He replies: "I have a question to ask, but I don't want to offend you."
She answers, "My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."
"Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me."
She responds, "Well, let's see what we can do about that, under two conditions: #1, you have to be single and #2, you must be Catholic."
The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I'm single and Catholic!"
"OK" the nun says. "Pull into the next alley."
The nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush.
But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.
"My dear child," said the nun, "Why are you crying?"
"Forgive me but I've sinned. I lied and I must confess; I'm married and I'm Jewish."
The nun says, "That's OK. My name is Keith and I'm going to a Halloween party."
A Slow News Week
It's been another slow news week for the blog, so I'm sharing this picture that never fails to make me laugh. If you sing that old Anita Ward disco song Ring My Bell, it makes it even better.In other news, G did get the trash heap of a car rolling again. The clock keeps resetting to 12:00 like a Satan-possessed BetaMax VCR, but hey, I can take the kids to school - whoopee!!
On another note, Hoover has gained a little weight now after the addition of a couple of extra chicken backs and peanut butter. Now that I think of it, that bite of G probably helped, too. Bruno, on the other hand, is still a perfect gentleman - the Abbott to Hoover's Costello, if you will. Wow...cutting edge comedy reference! What am I, ninety?
Anyway, the next couple of weeks promise to be much more interesting, so don't give up hope yet. Seriously, G's family is getting together for his Dad's surprise birthday party on the 15th, which promises comedy gold. Not to mention the drama that's sure to ensue as contentious factions of the clan from across the country join in forced merriment to wish my dear FIL a very happy 60th. Over Thanksgiving my brother Kevin and my Mom are coming to visit, so you can anticipate at least a little PUI (posting under the influence) as we party our way through that week.
One last note: I don't know where this picture came from (no, it's not my doorbell!), or I'd gladly give credit here. If you happen to know, please give me a shout.
CORRECTION/EDIT/RETRACTION: The car is dead again. It WAS running for almost 20 hours, and that might just be a record!
The Naughty Hat
Ladies and Gentlemen, I know it will be hard to believe that the angel pictured here earned the dubious honor of wearing the naughty hat last night. The infraction: bad manners (gasp!).G came home from work yesterday after stopping at the Pet Supermarket, and he was bearing a bag loaded with pig ears, organic chicken jerky enhanced with glucosamine & chondrointin, a stuffie, and a squeaky ball. Needless to say, he was very excited to share some of his loot with his lucky hounds. As excited as he was, G was not expecting Hoover to jump up and nip his hand, which is exactly what happened. Clearly, this was not cool.
So Hoover (Mr. Excitement) didn't get a treat. He didn't get to play with a toy. He spent about an hour in isolation, and then he was made to wear the newly-created Naughty Hat. As you can see here, this part of the punishment didn't affect him much, but we did have a few laughs over it.
A Lovely Centerpiece
In more recent reminiscences, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention a few things about the big Halloween party we're been preparing for these many weeks. After loads of preparation and planning, the Haunting of Admiral Drive took place on Saturday.
The house was decorated inside and out with all manner of spookery. Cobwebs, fake body parts, white sheets a la haunted house on all the furniture, the whole deal. The oft-mentioned coffin was filled with beer, ice, a skeleton, and was lit from within, black streamers covered the entire ceiling, and homemade wallpaper complete with "REDRUM" scrawled in red paint covered the walls. In a word, spooktacular.
My contribution to the ambiance was a table centerpiece, which was originally meant to be a roasted pig's head. Alas, it was not to be. Upon visiting the Buford Highway Farmer's Market (the world epicenter of creepy meats), I consulted with one of the butchers who confirmed that they were "out of pig heads". Instead, I purchased the following assortment: 1 pink and black beef tongue, 2 pounds of chicken feet, and 3 bull testicles. I thought it was very funny that the testicles were all packaged in odd numbers, but maybe that's just me.
Upon arriving home with my bounty, the dogs went nuts over the smell of what was in the bag. After making my way through the gauntlet of hounds, I took my goodies upstairs and covered the chicken feet with hoisin sauce while deciding that the best way to cook all these items was in a 375 degree oven for an hour and 20 minutes. Mind you, NONE of this was meant to be eaten. It was only for show, and it looked perfectly grosstastic when it was done and artfully displayed on a glass cake pedestal atop wilted bok choy. I fully expected the whole display would be intact at the end of the party.
As I always do, though, I left before the party ended. The next day, I returned to the scene to help clean up a bit, and found out that the tongue was gone. Today, the host emailed me to confirm that someone ate it in a moment of drunken gluttony. I'm glad I wasn't able to get that pig's head, after all.
The house was decorated inside and out with all manner of spookery. Cobwebs, fake body parts, white sheets a la haunted house on all the furniture, the whole deal. The oft-mentioned coffin was filled with beer, ice, a skeleton, and was lit from within, black streamers covered the entire ceiling, and homemade wallpaper complete with "REDRUM" scrawled in red paint covered the walls. In a word, spooktacular.
My contribution to the ambiance was a table centerpiece, which was originally meant to be a roasted pig's head. Alas, it was not to be. Upon visiting the Buford Highway Farmer's Market (the world epicenter of creepy meats), I consulted with one of the butchers who confirmed that they were "out of pig heads". Instead, I purchased the following assortment: 1 pink and black beef tongue, 2 pounds of chicken feet, and 3 bull testicles. I thought it was very funny that the testicles were all packaged in odd numbers, but maybe that's just me.
Upon arriving home with my bounty, the dogs went nuts over the smell of what was in the bag. After making my way through the gauntlet of hounds, I took my goodies upstairs and covered the chicken feet with hoisin sauce while deciding that the best way to cook all these items was in a 375 degree oven for an hour and 20 minutes. Mind you, NONE of this was meant to be eaten. It was only for show, and it looked perfectly grosstastic when it was done and artfully displayed on a glass cake pedestal atop wilted bok choy. I fully expected the whole display would be intact at the end of the party.
As I always do, though, I left before the party ended. The next day, I returned to the scene to help clean up a bit, and found out that the tongue was gone. Today, the host emailed me to confirm that someone ate it in a moment of drunken gluttony. I'm glad I wasn't able to get that pig's head, after all.
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