Somehow, five years has passed since this weekend trip to Lancaster and I’m finding it hard to believe that:

• I have inexplicably been back to Lancaster so many times that you’d think we either had
  • a timeshare
  • a sickness only shoofly pie can cure
• I somehow lost interest in photobombing weeners into pictures of Henry.
  • Believe me, it’s definitely not because I matured at all

I’m finding it NOT hard to believe that I:

• sent someone a post card from the POV of Henry’s eyebrows
  • It was probably for Alyson

Anyway, enjoy some pictures of Henry being degraded by iPhone-sketched genitalia.

***

I’m home from our weekend trip to Commercialized Amish Exploitation, f/k/a Amish Country, or Lancaster, PA. It was a bummer, but we still had fun because we were with Tommy and Jessy so shenanigans still played out regardless. I was mostly sad for Jessy because she’s really into shopping for country things but nearly every shop was an overblown tourist trap claiming to be authentic but I had suspicions. We did go to some Amish farm though and bought cheese and root beer from a cute little tow-headed Amish boy struggling with his English. I wanted to swap him out with Chooch, who was being a big fucking asshole that afternoon.

I have lots more to write about the weekend, but I would like to for now just post the pictures I took of Henry in compromising situations. I spent a lot of time laughing at these. Only Jessy thought they were funny. Henry just frowned a lot and Tommy’s was like, “WTF is wrong with you?” while making covert signs of the crosses and thanking God I’m not his girlfriend. Meanwhile, Chooch was like, “How many times are you going to make weener pictures, Mommy?” in an exasperated tone. He is only four, remember. Someday he’ll think this is funny. Unless he decides to just fail me altogether.

This was the one that started it all. I already posted it on Saturday but WHO CARES. Henry, yukking it up in the front seat with his boyfriend Tommy, ooooooh Tommy. I looked at it and the first thing I thought was, “I need to find a big Swedish dick, sopping with sweat, to enter that gaping maw RIGHTNOW.” Good thing I kept Chooch’s Doodle Buddy app on my phone (I was going to delete it last week!). This made Jessy and me giggle in the backseat for a little while.

Later that night, just Henry, Chooch and I went to DUTCH WONDERLAND OMG. Chooch and I were walking out of the Wonder House (I’m building one in my backyard, just as soon as I learn how to use a hammer. And build things.) and Henry was standing there with Duke the Dino pressed up against his side. Henry looked all awkward, like, “I swear I was just standing here and then this thing started side-humping me for no reason at all! Baby, you know I only like yellow mascots!” I was sad because by the time I got my phone out to take this picture, Duke had set his sights on erotically asphyxiating some 10-year-old boy. Turns out it was kismet, as far as weener pictures go.

Henry Goes COCKoo for Intercourse. We won’t be much schlonger now, enjoy the dicktivities!

On the way home, we stopped in Hershey, PA and ate at the Capitol Diner. Is it sad that the picture I took there was completely premeditated? I had been thinking of it since I woke up that morning and then nearly forgot about it by the time dinner rolled by!

Mmmm, ejaculicious!

I wish making Henry’s life hell was my job. It’s the only thing I’m good at.

1.  
I keep calling Henry “My Little Saul Berenson” and he is not thrilled about it. [SHOUT OUT TO MY HOMELAND-WATCHING FRIEND(S).]

2.  

I finally got Henry to hang up the swag lamp that we bought on a really volatile day last July. We’re in the process of turning this one side of our bedroom into a painting nook so that I can stop standing at the kitchen sink when I paint because that’s where my “art studio” currently is. Fake artists have fake studios. It’s cool, though. My back enjoys being stooped. 

And when I say we’re “in the process” I mean that I told Henry that’s what I want to do and can we please paint the wall and hang up pictures of all of my favorite bands? You know, for inspiration? OMG GREAT THANKS!

(He is still barking a hearty NO to my GOLD CEILING requests. He can just go fuck right off.)

3.  

Our Xmas tree is coming along nicely! I have tentatively named her Trudy. A few more coats and then she can be dressed in tinsel and lights. It might seem ridiculous, but having her in the house makes me feel like A PIECE OF ME HAS BEEN PUT IN PLACE. I have wanted this for nearly 20 years!

I’m glad that Henry goes along with all of my ideas and demands. EXCEPT FOR THE GOLD CEILING. God, he’s the worst. 

I spent the evening at the Altar Bar last night. It was surreal, guilt-laden, and also a bit therapeutic in light of the recent Paris attacks. There isn’t anything I can say that will make any difference or impact, or even motivate anyone to be kind to each other. I have no better way to articulate my thoughts or make any better sense of this tragedy than the person before me or after me. I can post all of the pictures of the Eiffel Tower, but it doesn’t matter—connecting with others is what matters. The world is a scary place and I wanted to hug everyone around me last night, even the two Mona Lisa Sapersteins to the right of me, who, on a normal night, would have sincerely pissed me off.

Even them.

Music is the one thing that always helps me decompress and forget for a few moments about all that is wrong in this world. The fact that one of the attacks happened while people were only trying to do that same exact thing is horrifying, depressing, and gut-wrenchingly sad.

It was a somber night. I was there alone and while I really wanted to just be home with Henry and Chooch, standing in a roomful of strangers brought together by a love for music was like slapping a bunch of bandaids on the ol’ bleeding heart. The music was beautiful, tears were shed, there was a token drunk guy acting wildly inappropriate during Copeland. And somehow, in the midst of all of the chaos, there was a bright spot, a quick moment of hope and joy, when a man got on stage during Eisley’s set and proposed to his girlfriend. Sharing that moment with a roomful of cheering and crying strangers brought about a sense of humanity that really needed to be felt right then and there.

In lieu of hashtags and posting Paris vaca throwback pics, I just want to share music with everyone today. I know, I do that basically everyday; but really, it’s the only way I know how to connect and find comfort. If only things could be so simple. 

 Maybe I might hug someone today, too. Probably just Henry, though—let’s not go crazy. 

I don’t pray, but I do cry a lot. And I’m not just crying for Paris, I’m crying for the whole goddamn world. Because it never really ends, does it? 

Today we hung out with Blake so I could photograph a sequel to the pumpkin head photos that he posed for in 2009. I wanted to use the inside of a church as the location but Henry was like NOT IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD so then Blake suggested that we walk down a bike trail nearby in Hays, which took us past the spot where Barb’s beloved eagle nest is located. IN YER FACE BARB!

Anyway, it was a nice leisurely stroll and Chooch and Blake were excited because they saw a bitch fall off her bike BUT I MISSED IT, UGH. 

“And she even had training wheels!” Chooch wheezed with laughter, at which point Blake said he didn’t realize it was a kid and now he was having laughter remorse; I would not have tried to return my laughter though HAD I SEEN IT. 

Hope everyone had a non-volatile Sunday with little-to-no bicycle spills. 

 Flailing. 

Typical. 

Afterward, we went to Steak n Shake, where Blake fake-bullied Chooch and then Chooch fake-cried (he is scarily good at that) pretty much the whole time and I think the only reason we didn’t get kicked out is because the employees were being just as rowdy and obnoxious and they were apparently bullying our waitress?! I didn’t know this until after we left and Henry mentioned that there was a group of them talking shit on her, wtf? 

Now I kind of want to go back and defend her honor, even though she served me a grilled cheese with a BEEF PATTY on it. 

My favorite part was when Blake tried to force Chooch to eat a crayon while people at other tables were probably recording the scene to later parent-shame us on social media. 

And also when Blake spilled Chooch’s lemonade during one of their violent fits on each other. 

And let’s not forget when Blake smashed the cardboard kids meal bus that he and Chooch built together, causing Chooch to dramatically and believably fake-cry, making Blake look like a grade A brute. 

 
The only thing that was missing was one of them hauling back an arm to punch the other, but accidentally missing and punching a loaded tray out of a waitress’s hands. 

  
Here are some old pictures. First batch is from 9/2012. I guess Chooch was like 6 here? Sadly, this abandoned street caught on fire and supposedly nothing is left now which sucks because it was always my back-up plan for when other locations failed. Here’s to you, Abandoned Street In Clairton. Thanks for the memories. 

And these ones are from 7/2014.    
    
  Supposed to be taking pictures of Chooch & Blake tomorrow and I’m really sad that this place isn’t an option. :(

In addition to plopping tears all over the place, eating cookies, and having my dancing skills mocked, there was also lots of group picture-taking and haunted basement exploring! Chris stepped away from her own celebrations to PERSONALLY escort Chooch and me down into the basement. Oh yeah, that’s us, being escorted to a place by the BRIDE.

“They literally don’t care what you do around here,” she said, nodding toward the front desk. We poked around a little but come on—it’s me and Chooch. We came back later with Lauren, Tony, Nate and some dude. Nate and some dude were too scared to venture very far, but the rest of us kept exploring further into the depths of the George Washington Hotel and it was AWESOME.

There was a sunken event room down there and I was obsessed with it. It had a medieval vibe. 

But parts of the basement definitely should have been cordoned off from the public, like this FLOODED STORAGE ROOM, WHAT:

Chooch: I’m over here with Lauren. I’m fine! I don’t have a crush on her now or anything!

Serial killer work bench.

Honestly, I was half-afraid that we were going to become reluctant witnesses to a murder down there.

But then it was time to go back upstairs for more pictures! You can tell I’ve been drinking when I’m actively participating in having my image captured.

The bartender took this of us when we were waiting for Chooch to retrieve Lauren and Tony for a Table 15 photo. April and I both agree that we have no recollection what we were doing in this shot, other than obviously performing the Waiting for Chooch to Retrieve Lauren and Tony jig.

And then she took this wonderfully blurry group shot of us, but that’s OK. IT’S STILL A CUTE PICTURE.

Fun fact: two days before the wedding, I said to Henry, “So…are you cutting your hair for the wedding or….?”

Henry, without looking up from his phone (honestly, nothing he looks at on his phone is interesting!) said, “I don’t know…why?”

“Oh no reason, I just don’t want to look like I brought Billy Bob with me as my date,” I answered with passive-aggressive cheer.

Without saying a word, Henry stormed out of the house and came back with his woodhick follicles shorn into a respectable, modern style.

Meanwhile, Henry dozed off at the table while we were excavating George Washington’s bowels. Chris took this from her cousins’s phone and I am forever grateful!

(“I WASN’T SLEEPING!” Henry whined.)

And then this happened (I need to buy a real copy!):  

*****

Sometime around 11, the DJ announced that the reception was ending but that the party was going to move to the hotel bar. We couldn’t stay (THANKS CHOOCH) so we went over to say our goodbyes, which is when Chooch accidentally pulled Monica to the ground, which in some customs is considered GOOD LUCK for the marriage. 

Just saying. 

The guy who did my apple tattoo posted about Drawlloween on Instagram, which is basically a month of drawing prompts. Chooch enjoys drawing and when I showed this to him, he was pretty gung-ho about it.

I anticipated him to give up half way through, because that’s the True Oh Honestly Way.

But he made it all the way to the second to the last day before losing steam! He finally finished his last drawing today and it was the best one IF YOU ASK ME.

Anyway, here they are, because I told him I would and I only lie sometimes.
  

Somewhere around here I convinced him to use unlined paper, for god’s sake.
  

His amulet was inspired by The Monster Squad, obviously. And he combined grave and demon into one picture because “other people are doing that too!

” God, sorry for asking.

He was going to draw our neighbor Jackie for “witch” but forgot what she looked like. (He had a fight with her a few months ago and after she told him he’s a trouble maker, he blurted out that she’s a witch and we all had a good laugh about that later because who knew he could be so PG.)

His spider was REALLLLLY uninspired, but the dragon makes up for it, if you ask me.

Tell Chooch what you think!

I’m sure if you have children, you share my pain and frustration when it comes to Halloween. I’m thankful that Chooch goes to a school that at least acknowledges that Halloween exists, but then they go and take all the fun out of it because there are so many rules and restrictions when it comes to what they’re allowed to wear and bring in for snacks. 

Anyway, Chooch’s main costume for trick or treating breaks the “NO WEAPONS” rule because it involves half a homemade arrow god forbid. So at the last minute, I decided that we might as well make use of his pink hair and build a cheap l, bare bones costume around it because  the school’s sad excuse for a Halloween party is not worth much more effort than this. 

Stupid cotton candy. 

Henry came home from work early enough to walk to the school and watch the parade with me, so he was there to witness the moment when Chooch broke my HEART by waking out with the cotton all unfluffed AND NO SIGN. 

“He looks like a half-assed clown going to a birthday party! This is STUPID. I HATE TODAY,” I cried to Henry who gave me his canned response of “Take it easy.”

And that little jerk knew he fucked up because he gave me that shit-eating grin/shrug combo and I mouthed “YOU ARE DEAD TO ME” at which point he turned back to his dumb friends and giggled his way on down the parade route while my feelings hung out to dry on a clothesline fashioned from my fragile ego. 

I stormed off with Henry casually following me like this wasn’t the worst thing in the world and he wasn’t bothered by it AT ALL. 

I’ll spare you the details, but there was also a complete tantrum thrown in the middle of an alley on the way to Cannon Coffee and then I was like IM JUST GOING HOME and got even more mad when Henry didn’t try to stop me but then we ended up going to Cannon Coffee anyway because I knew there was no coffee at home and I NEEDED IT. 

I was mostly ok after that. Although Henry just now begged me to please try to calm down for the rest of the day because apparently I’m being a bitch.

I hate Halloween. 

J/K! I still love Halloween. 

  
There is just not enough time for me to get as much done as I would like, but I am slowly plowing through my list of custom paintings. SO WHY NOT START MORE PROJECTS. It’s not like we have Halloween costumes to make or anything.  

I have a bunch of shrink plastic left over from my last failed foray into jewelry-making, so why not waste more time! I’ve been wanting to turn some of my recent people-paintings into pendants and whatever, so I gave it a trial run last night. 

Sophia Petrillo ring and my majorly chipped nails. 
  

Sexy HEY-SOOS pendant.   

These are pretty rough prototypes just to see how they hold up. So far so good, so now I’ll make some fancier ones, maybe! Probably not! I don’t do “fancy” very well. 

In the next segment of this late night Tuesday blog post, let’s look at some recent paintings I made, because this is kind of a business and I should probably try to  promote it every once in awhile. Sorry to be so annoying & in yo’ face. 

Kellin Quinn from Sleeping With Sirens.   Frank-n-Furter for Chris, a super belated birthday gift because I’m a great friend. 

But at least my wedding gift for her and Monica was on time. 

And then this one was for my work friend Jill’s sister, who is a master biker. I like when I get to paint happy scenery. 

I just finished another custom order tonight but it’s for a birthday/Xmas gift so I can’t post it yet. And today someone bought my Lizzie Borden and Log Lady paintings! I can go to more haunted houses now!

I have another day off on Friday and I really need to make new serial killer holiday cards so FINGERS CROSSED that I can get motivated. I could never be a fake artist full time. I know you’ve been wishing on falling stars for a Ted Bundy Hanukkah card. 

As always, if you’re looking for an original gift or something to cover a hole in the wall, please visit my Etsy shop: somnambulant. 

Yesterday was Chris and Monica’s wedding and it was lovely. I almost never use that word in a non-sarcastic sense, but my sentiments are real. There will be a proper post about that, believe me, but for now, here’s a picture of what my kid wore, which I made him re-wear today when I realized I didn’t get any decent photos of him wearing clothes that weren’t dirty or full of holes. 

He somehow managed to keep his shirt tucked in all night, too!

(His bow tie is actually from Spirit Halloween; he wanted it because it’s Minecraft-esque.)

We’re currently rounding out another beautiful fall weekend with a trip to the WV state pen in Moundsville for their haunted house with my sister Amy and her daughter Brooke. October weekends forever!

We did some running around Thursday evening and then Henry realized he had about 15 minutes to get food into our mouths before Chooch and I started to morph into our demonic alter egos from Famine Land, so he pulled into the El Campesino parking lot with a quickness.  

Bunch of asses. 

We had the BEST Mexican waiter, an older guy who was just a real delight, even after he had to come back FOUR times before Chooch finally settled on a taco, which is all he ever gets at Mexican restaurants anyway, so I’m not quite sure what he was trying to unearth on that menu.

While we waited for ourfood, some Yinzer man stopped as he walked past our table to commend Chooch on reading a book—he brought in his new Dan & Phil book to read at the table; why do all of these YouTubers keep putting out books? I’m doing it wrong. EL SIGH. Anyway, this guy overstayed his welcome and it was already awkward even before he started talking to us about his ex-wife and her nocturnal reading habits. But still, it was kind of nice at the same time because kids these days need all the encouragement to stay off cell phones and tablets as they can get. BOOKS R GUD, KIDZ. Even if it’s just these idiot YouTube ones. Reading is reading.

After dinner, Chooch gleefully ordered sopapillas. He’s been obsessed with sopapillas since he was about 4 or 5 I guess? It started one day when we went to King’s of all places, after roller skating, and he ordered sopapillas. I kept saying it over and over in a robust Italian accent, because why not, maybe sometimes Mario and Luigi are sick of cannoli and want a nice plate of pillowy sopapillas. You don’t know. Chooch thought this was hilarious because he’s my #1 fan (and probably also because Henry kept telling me to stop because I was being “annoying”).

So Chooch of course goes to school and starts saying “Sopapillas!” like it’s a Tourette’s tick, and some bratty girl told on him so he actually got in trouble for saying the name of a MEXICAN DESSERT.

Catholic schools, man.

It’s a huge joke with us now, because how goddamn ridiculous. Maybe Pontius Pilate was eating sopapillas when he condemned Jesus to the cross, who knows. But Chooch never passes up the chance to order them when we’re out.

Our adorable waiter repeated Chooch’s order back to him and after he walked away, Chooch closed his eyes and murmured, “Ugh, I love hearing him say that. ‘Sopapillas’…..”

And here he is with his dumb book. My favorite book when I was his age was The Westing Game and I’m determined to make him read it. (I’m always looking for recommendations for him, so feel free to comment with your faves!)

At some point on Saturday, in between gluing sequins on my Pie Party sign and shadow dancing around Baker Henry in the kitchen, I had the greatest idea of all time. I was upstairs when it came to me, and so I screamed for Henry to hurry his ass up to our room. He loves when I do that because sometimes it’s an actual emergency just often enough for him to fall for it every time.

“What?!” he asked, panting and mildly concerned.

“Greatest idea ever,” I began, and he immediately regretted falling victim to my wolf cries. “In addition to the pie party….SUCCULENT MEET N’ GREET.” I paused for a beat, smiling and waiting for him to crumble to the floor under the weight of my brilliance.

Instead, he just stood there, arms akimbo, that patronizing smirk plastered across his dumb bearded face.

Good thing I’ve never been one to look to my BEAU for validation. Speaking of BEAU, Bo Brady probably would have supported Hope in her decision to have a succulent meet n greet.

No, you’re right. That’s definitely false. Bo thought Hope was silly and frivolous. Oh, until she was about to marry LARRY WELCH, that is.

(OMG remember when Henry was my Bo Brady?)

Later that night, we were getting ready for bed and I was still yammering on about my succulent meet n’ greet. “This is just really exciting, I’m really excited about this, and I think it’s just full of excitement, so much excite,” the words spewing out in an auctioneer’s cadence. Henry must have been delirious from baking all day and night, because he just stared at me with an amused look on his face, and that is unlike him. The looks he gives me are typically basted with disgust, contempt, and frustration. Occasionally rage, but Henry is pretty laid back so one must really give him a series of forceful shoves for the anger to really shine through.

“They’ve never gone anywhere before!” I reminded Henry.

“Well, they’re plants, so….” he muttered.

Sunday morning, while Henry was filling the car with unnecessary, boring items like forks and plates, I was carefully considering which of my succulents to bring with us. I couldn’t bring some of my faves, like Bae and Panne and Suzy Banyon, because their pots are too fragile and breakable.

“I really want to bring Johnny Maplebitch with us, but I’m worried because there will be kids there…” I murmured mostly to myself, staring at that beautiful beast on my coffee table.

“Well, you could change his name for the day,” Chooch suggested. “Like, maybe….Johnny Mapledick?” he shrugged, completely serious about this.

“Yeah, good one, Chooch,” Henry sighed, stomping past us with more unessential pie party things, like pie.

I ended up bringing him in the end, because I don’t believe in succulent censorship.

I placed them all gently inside a carrying case while Henry was wasting time rounding up the beverage and making sure Chooch was dressed and not in danger. A little help would have been nice, but knowing Henry and his meathands, he probably would have just jammed my babes into the car all recklessly, like they’re not his real children.

Of course they’re not.

They’re the Devil’s.

I lined all of the picnic tables in the pavilion with craft paper and then had all of the succulents introduce themselves and say a little thing about pie. Because it was a pie party.

I TIE THINGS TOGETHER. It’s what I do.

Chris and Monica asked me what vasterbotten pie is and I shrugged. “I’unno. I just googled ‘swedish pies’ and then didn’t get much farther than that.” So then Chris googled it and actually read about vasterbotten, and now we’re obsessed with vasterbotten pie because it’s basically just cooked Swedish cheese and I hope that Chris and Monica are currently reorganizing their wedding menu as I type this.

Henry always rolls his eyes when I bring up Phil Angie.

Leopold is the succulent I found in Savannah! I brought him so it was like having Octavia there in spirit. <3

And I had to bring Stefano so Monica could meet him in person, since she is the one who named him. (Also, two Days of Our Lives references in one blog post! And I haven’t even watched Days since 2005! <—sadly.)

Bambi had to give a shout-out to her favorite show, Twin Peaks. HOLLA.

I named this one after my favorite gymnastics coach of all time, BELA KAROLYI. He was happy to bring some Romanian flavor to the party. Isn’t he handsome?

Henry frowned at this one.

Some people seemed very eager to meet the succulents! Other people were like, “Why.” Henry was like, “This is why you don’t have friends.”

Anyway, if you couldn’t be there on Sunday, I hope you enjoyed this virtual meet and greet!

   
Today is the pie party and our streak of perfect fall weather while gorging on filled pastries is holding strong! It is absolutely gorgeous today and I can’t wait to see everyone (and their pies)!

Currently I’m taking some time to decompress in the cemetery while Chooch is down the street at piano and Henry is at home probably staring at a wall and drooling. He baked his ass off yesterday and probably wishes he was “napping” in this beautiful sleep shack right now:

 Hope everyone has a wonderful Sunday and I will have a bite of pie for each of my far away friends who can’t be here today!

   
(I should have held the pie party in the cemetery. I’m an idiot.)

 Now if you’ll excuse me? I have some geese to mock and a unicyclist to gawk at. 

Ghoul Mansion

Have you ever been to Ghoul Mansion? Well It wasn’t TOO scary. Well on the way there I fell asleep and while I was sleeping daddy went in Barnes and Noble to get a “My Drunk Kitchen”  book made by Hannah Hart.

Daddy was “scrub” so he didn’t want to go in. There was a maze where there were guys with glow in the dark gloves on. It was also pitch black. We got into a Nurse part (WHICH ALWAYS THE WORSE) and me and mommy got our pictures taken. The first picture was normal. The second picture had a loud BANG when it was shot. Oh yeah and a couple doors down there was a bar and grill called Marigold Bar and Grill. Daddy said that was where he was going to while we were in the haunted house.

When we were leaving mommy was a “scrub” for running away from a kid dressed up as a devil. LOL (,:! She was so annoyed.

After the haunted house we stopped at this diner called MIDDLESEX Diner. LOLOLOLOLOLOL! Before the MIDDLESEX Diner we drove past MIDDLESEX BAR AND GRILL. I had a HUGE cheeseburger that I made daddy eat and the bathroom smelled like piss. I was sad because Yankee Kitchen (The diner we went to before) because daddy didn’t want to go so we didn’t get to hear Fish Dinner! ):

While we were there an old guy sneezed louder than daddy, LOUDER THAN DADDY! I mean who sneezes louder than daddy, right?!?!

CASTLE BLOOD

Janna, Daddy, Mommy, Kara, and I went to Castle blood the day after me and mommy went to Ghoul mansion. I made fun of Janna by saying “Are you sure your mom isn’t going to whoop your a**?” She said back “No, only on Christmas.” I found a hand buzzer in the parking lot and Kara took it and I said “Don’t Taze Me Bro!”  One of the guys at Castle Blood called daddy “BIG MAN.” We all laughed but daddy agreed with the guy.

It was Kara’s first time at Castle Blood and she liked it. We go every year because its awesome and we just like haunted houses a lot. It used to be an old funeral home and there are a lot of ghosts there now. I was nervous because I had to go in the front a lot. If someone asked me why they should go to castle blood I would say because its AWESOME and always has a good story. I would tell you what the story is but you should go find out for your self.

We were looking for 3 things a Stone, a Bone, and a Crumb. Wait umm sorry, a Crone. Well that was embarrassing. Some vampire guy made me go up the stairs without the group so I did, and I got to scare the crap out of mommy. But not anyone else because I’m bad at scaring people.

At the grave yard part Whiplash (one of the people) said “Don’t drop the stone.” and right after that it sounded like I dropped it but I kicked a nail. SO QUIT MAKING FUN OF ME!

A Werewolf jump-scared us and made us all howl. I did the best and daddy did the worst because he didn’t do it.

Obviously you know I had fun at two haunted houses on Saturday and Sunday. 
 

Hi blog-diary thing. I need you to be there for me right now. I already ranted about this on Facebook, but now I am feeling more things and need to enjoy the glorious release of typing it out. 

One of our weirdo neighbors was waiting for us to come home from work, on his bicycle no less, and immediately confronted Chooch about stealing his paintball gun and some Pokemon thing that is like, collectors edition? Both of these things he kept in his garage which is always opened. (And as Blake said: lock your shit up! This is the city not a farm.) Anyway, Chooch was all blindsided and was like “what I didn’t do it” and basically we all know it was some asshole down the street and the accusatory neighbor knows it too but since Chooch is the oldest out of the neighborhood kids, this is automatically his cross to bear?

Yeah no.

You know who else was blindsided? Me. It took me a while to figure out what was going on because I was in my After Work Hunger Famine stage that happens everyday from 5:30 – whenever Henry chucks some dinner at my face. I was just trying to cross the street to get to food, not pay attention to some middle-aged bully straddling his bicycle and interrogating my kid. Ok, tough guy. 

Anyway, we got the douchebag neighbor off our back and onto the other kid’s back (and that kids mom wa a screaming at him because she knows her son is a thieving cooze too) so you would think that all was well. But no. Because I say here and stewed all evening. Hours later, I snapped. My snarling bitch fest went something like this: 

“Henry, this is fucked up. I’m PISSED. I just want to come the fuck home from work and eat the dinner that you’re going to cook for me, not be accosted by some rando neighbor on his lame ass bike for god knows what?! YEARS I lived here in peace and harmony, never having to deal with a fucking neighbor, and then we had to go and have a KID and now this?! Fuck these people! This is why I don’t go outside! CHOOCH SHOULD JUST STAY INSIDE TOO. WE CAN ALL STAY INSIDE TOGETHER. LETS GET WORK-FROM-HOME JOBS AND NEVER TALK TO A PERSON AGAIN.”

Henry is not on board with this. 

NEW PLAN: Henry does all the handling of the neighbors. I’ll talk to Hot Naybor Chris BUT THAT IS IT. 

The rest of them can suck my dick that they’ll never see because I’m a hermit now and also because I don’t have one. 

I liked this neighbor better when he was on house arrest and our house was out of ankle bracelet range. 

Actually I didn’t even know who he was until after I recovered from my dumbfounded stupor and asked “who the fuck was that?!” as he pedaled off into the horizon like Miss Almira Gulch.  And Henry and Chooch yelled, “LARRY!”