All Things Profane and Sacred

Y'all just don't do Halloween right here. So, I know it's not like back home where there's a rockin' good time on State street that ends in riots and arrests. And I know it's probably harder to slog through the rain for your candy than it is to march through the snow. But that isn't the point. The point is: Candy-why do I have so much of it left over?

I'm on a residential street in a residential neighborhood. I thought I'd be kid central yesterday, and I had enough candy to keep Gengis Khan and his men at bay.

4 kids. F O U R. What the fuck??? And of the few kids who came, two had a group waiting at the sidewalk that included kids in costume. What the hell is wrong with kids today that they won't climb up a few stairs for treaty goodness?

Hell, even when I was living in Madison's premier "bad neighborhood" I had trick or treaters. They were generally not in costume and their Moms were on a rocket to the moon, but they at least came. For the candy. Because isn't that what Halloween is all about?

Why doesn't anyone want my candy? I don't poison it or put razors in things. I don't have time for that man! And I don't have anything gross like candy corn or those horrible black and orange peanut butter puke balls. I've got some primo shit old school style.

There is no joy in finishing left over Halloween candy. Not when you have three pounds of it.