Tuesday, October 30, 2012


Halloween! Ooooh, such a spooky time of year. I say that because pumpkins terrify me. Big, somewhat circular, orange things are frightening. That’s why I don’t go to tanning booths; I fear seeing a carrot–skinned derrière bounding down the hallway toward me. It could happen. Well—in a nightmare it could happen. Which reminds of why I’m here: It’s Halloween time. And while I have, for the purposes of better health, avoided the oh-so-sweet temptation of candy-corn, I have not humbugged the holiday entirely. Therefore I will indulge you all with a list of spookery not to be found anywhere else in this realm of the living. That was bone-chilling, wasn’t it? No? My spell-check is telling me spookery is not a word. Maybe it wasn’t so bone-chilling. Regardless, this list will contain real or imagined beast so terrifying that if you are faint-hearted, you best keep the smelling salts close at hand. Beware and be warned! So, without further a-boo here is my blah-g list of creatures that frighten me to my soul:
1. The Dead Un-dead Dead Guy—you know the one. The dead zombie thing that you think is dead but when you creep up to it for a closer look, BAM!, it sits up and bites your face off. I’ve had to have my face grafted back on three times because I’m a slow learner.
2. Eric Stoltz—No, not because of any movie he’s been in, he’s a fine actor, handsome fellow and all too. It’s that while doing research for red-headed actors for my previous blog, I found a picture of him and he seemed to be telling me that he would carve me up and serve me as fillet-o-fish sandwiches to my neighbors (who happen to be Gene Simmons and C-3PO), then take my scalp and weave it onto a giant twenty-foot wookie costume—wait a second. I think I dreamt this. Yeah. I did dream this. Forget number two. 

2.  Bear Hugger—This invisible fiend stalks his victim for hours, or even days, waiting for his prey to become involved in a delicate social situation. At that point, he rushes his target, picks him up around the waist, squeezes and shakes until the victim uncontrollably farts. Those around him only see the victim’s wild contortions and insane gyrating. Once the thunderous flatulence has been expelled, Bear Hugger departs. You will not get the job, date, or make a good impression on your new neighbors.
3. Backwasher—No, not the shower monster. This beast is far, far more sinister. It, (I said it because it is an androgynous Ken-doll­ ­neutral. Don’t ask me how I know this), seizes hold of your drink, whether it be a Firestone 805, Kool-Aid, or chocolate milk-shake, and takes a big open mouth gulp, letting the remnants of its last meal (be it pizza, corn on the cob, or Chex-mix), spill back into the drinking vessel.  
4. WereBats—These frighten me much more than Werewolves. You can see a werewolf coming; it growls and snarls almost as if it wants to be seen. You will never see a WereBat coming. A WereBat will flitter out of a tree, scratch you—maybe even nip at you—then erratically fly away. You will never see it coming. Then, on the next Waxing Gibbous moon, you transform into a tiny, fuzzy, flying insectivore. I know what some of you are asking yourselves: “Don’t vampires transform into bats?” No. No they don’t. Nor do they sparkle. Nor do they get angsty teen-age girls pregnant.  
5. Moons Over My Hammy—since I’m talking about moons I would be remiss if I were to omit something so foul and loathsome as this Denny-ical concoction. Unsuspecting patrons enter the 24 hour diner, hoping to either grab a bite while traveling or to sop up the alcohol in their systems after seven hours of binge drinking. Oh, they get their meal, but they also get a little something extra. At eight a.m. the following morning a deep rumble in their gut gives the victims warning. A thought forms, “were those eggs cooked all the way? They seemed a little runny.” The thought is dismissed. But the Moons Over My Hammy soon does it’s work. By 8:30 a.m. the former Denny’s patrons experience a full intestinal cathartic release of all things eaten the prior 72 hours, and everything they might eat over the next 5 days. This beast actually expels food from your digestive tract you have not even eaten yet. Sunken, hollow eyes, gaze to the sky for unseen help. Withered, broken bodies fall to bathroom floors; legs weak and numb from hours of sitting on porcelain cathedrae; raspy, dehydrated voices call to their deity only to go unanswered.  
6. Bret Micheals—Those pouty lips are a distraction. What’s under that bandana!?! What are you hiding!?! I’m sure it has to be Unskinny Bop. What does that even mean!?! My body recoils from the thought. Pray the Lord have mercy on us sinners! Mankind cannot take another listen to this bad 90s metal. Mercy on us, mercy on us all! I cry to thee, mercy! We have strayed from the path; many have; but thou shall not have us endure such a fate as to suffer through Unskinny Bop again! Mercy! Mercy, mercy

7. Shits-n-Giggles—Some say he is the lost soul of a Moons Over My Hammy victim. Some say he is something else entirely. All I know is that you should be ever vigilant. But in the end your vigilance will prove fruitless. You will hear him coming; waking you from your sleep. He sounds like a sadistic child; a high pitched giggle can be heard in your home. Walls mean nothing to him. The hallway, the den, downstairs, in the kitchen—in the kids’ rooms. You will hear their terrified shrieks, but nothing can be done. You can hide beneath your blankets or in the closet; futile attempts at best. No weapon can defeat him. He’s there, in the dark. You can hear the giggle. Your skin prickles in fear. Suddenly it happens. He does what his name suggests then disappears. You are left trembling and shocked and in need of a shower. Abandon hope all ye who hear this fiend.

Take caution this Halloween for these creatures are out there. Eat your candy, carve your pumpkins, dress in your sexy kitty costumes if you will, but heed my warnings. The night will bring more than beggars of candy. Fear lives on this eve. Fear lives. 

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