Me: “Hey, remember that time I egged the shit out of old lady Berman’s Caddie? Wrote obscenities in shaving cream and soap all over the windshield, then rolled her house in toilet paper?”
Ghost of Halloweens past: “I do.”
Me: “Man, that was a blast!”
Ghost of Halloweens past: “It was.”
Me: “Wonder what ever happened to that old bat, anyway.”
Ghost of Halloweens past: “Mrs Berman? She died of brain cancer. Suffered horribly, too, I hear.”
Me: “Oh.”
Ghost of Halloweens past: “Yeah.”
Me::
Ghost of Halloweens past:
Me::
Ghost of Halloweens past:
Me:: “Well. It was nice seeing you again –”
Ghost of Halloweens past: “– Yeah, I was just going.”
Why am I tearing up? You never made me feel this way before.
I think the ghost is just pushing your guilt buttons.
BOO…ingo!
I think he’s just a lying self-aggrandizing partisan hack who is using Old Lady Berman’s status as a “dead” operative to further his own agenda.
THE GHOST OF HALLOWEEN PAST JUST WANTS HIS PRIVACY!
Doesn’t he look a lot like Mandy Patinkin in “Dead Like Me” ?
And God bless us, every–what? Oh, sorry.
So…eggs give you cancer?
Ian, nah. It was the T.P.
Speaking of halloween, who the hell is that guy in your top left blogad, Jeff? I’d click through, but he makes me a little nervous.
Check him for white socks. He looks like some kinda narc to me.
SB: form
That’s Paul Deignan. Smart guy.
And to me, that pic screams “my tool is so big it has it’s own wallet and credit cards.”
Yeah, where are the pics?