If you are old enough to GROW A MOUSTACHE...then you probably shouldn't be trick-or-treating. My guess is that you are tragically geeky and aren't getting laid and for that, you have my sympathy so, yeah...I'll give you some candy anyway Oxy Pad.

But hats off to you on your costume selection of going as a business man and using a briefcase to collect your candy. Very clever. Your teenage companion Gandalf could benefit from some originality.

And now...a Halloween Joke for you.

Q: What does a vegetarian zombie say?

A: GRAAAAAINS!

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Mary Mo made sushi with Twinkies, Fruit Rollups and Swedish fish. She was kind enough to bring me the rejects.

I did not try it. However it couldn't have been worse than this.

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Here's another one.

Thank you for your kind comments about Anne Heche. She appreciates them too.

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I've been drawing cartoons of my friend Mary Mo's cat. Her cat's name is Duchess. I told her that name isn't befitting a cat with her psychotic nature. Therefore, I renamed Duchess. I call her Anne Heche.
This was the first cartoon. Against my advice, Mary Mo lets Anne Heche go out onto the patio in the morning. Guess what happens now. Anne Heche wants to go outside ALL THE TIME now.

Anne Heche has yet to learn portion control and eats all her food in one sitting leaving her to bitch about it for the rest of the day.

Mary Mo has a basil plant that grows like a weed. Apparently Anne Heche has taken a liking to it.

I'm not sure this one needs any explanation. Poor embarrassed Anne Heche.

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Thursday afternoon, Deek text-messaged me to ask if I want to go see Good Night, And Good Luck at the Camelview with he and Matt. Since I just got paid that day and needed to go fill my car with precious liquid gold and run some errands, I declined. Turns out Hugh Downs was there and did a Q & A afterwards. Deek asked Hugh what blogs he reads. Sadly, Hugh does not read mine.

Yeah, him and everyone else.

On Friday night, Deek, Matt and I decided to try a new Vietnamese place in our neighborhood. While eating our dinner, we noticed a distinguished, bald man enter and eventually sit in a booth by himself. Deek stared and noticed other people were checking the guy out too. "I think that's G. Gordon Liddy," he said.

"Does G. Gordon Liddy even live here?" I asked.

"Everyone lives here these days," he said.

Personally, I'm not convinced it was G. Gordon Liddy, mostly because I could give a rat's ass if it was him or not. When I suggested Deek go ask, he said no, citing that G. Gordon Liddy is a nutcase whack-job who'd probably go ballistic if approached by strangers. Apparently the guy heard this and shot us a look.

"Great! You are going to get our asses kicked by G. Gordon Liddy or his doppelgänger."

Last night, we were all going to go to the state fair, but Deek became violently ill either from food poisoning or good old fashion poisoning by a G. Gordon Liddy look-alike. So I did all the hot stuff a single gay guy does on a Saturday night. Laundry and shopping online for stuff to trick out my Mac mini.

I missed a couple calls while taking a shower. Apparently the Black-Eyed Peas were in town and were at the house of a Lady DJ® that lives next door to some friends. Yet I was comfy in my pajamas and in no condition to haul my ass across town, even for the Black-Eyed Peas.

After all, what would I say? "Hey....you know...like um...that song....you know the one...yeah...that was cool." I'm sure will.i.am would be all, "Who invited this cracker? and Fergie would flee for the hills.

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Permalink | File Under: Friends, Life

Inspired by this, I decided do a Google image search of my name. No tombstones, but I did find this.

This is equally as disturbing.

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So I'm at Trader Joe's and it's a glorious Sunday afternoon. Perfect day for the week's grocery shopping. I head for the store and stop by the carts to grab one.

There I find the oldest, worn, rusted, plain saddest little shopping cart in front of the bin full of bright, shiny new carts. As the Snottsdale Rich Bitches moved The Little Shopping Cart That Could out of there way so they could get a new, fancy cart for their shopping, they looked at it in disgust.

"You are simply too filthy to hold my groceries," they'd say just before they spat upon it.

TLSCTC looked up at me in shame with its big, sad eyes. "Nobody wants me," it whimpered.

"I'll take you!" I proclaimed. "I will help you fulfill your shopping cart destiny!" And with that I whisked TLSCTC from its bin and proudly pushed it into the store.

I wobbled it through the produce aisle and listen to the appalled crowd gasped. Whispers were heard as my rickety friend and I turned every corner. The Scottsdale Rich Bitches grabbed their children and covered their eyes so my brazen use of a rickety shopping cart wouldn't scar them.

I stuck my tongue out and made a face at each one of those little privileged snots. The fled in terror.

After I checked out, I took TLSCTC back to the bin so I could tell it goodbye. I can not lie. There were tears.

After we said goodbye, I grabbed my bag and noticed there was a sign on the seat.

Turns out TLSCTC was just a long way from home and its family.

The End.

Permalink | File Under: Life, Photos