If you were a little kid in the 70s, or even up to the mid 80s, you probably have similar Halloween memories to mine. You would start planning your costume around November 3rd shortly after eating five pillowcases filled with candy over the previous three days and when Halloween finally did roll around you would trick-or-treat for hours. I easily, without exaggeration, walked about 140 miles while trick or treating each Halloween. Keep in mind, if my costume called for it I would walk these long miles in bare feet (i.e. barefoot hobo, barefoot zombie, barefoot cowboy, barefoot Batman).
My parents would remove the window from the front door to more easily hand out candy to the never-ending line of trick-or-treaters who would show up on our stoop all night until they finally were forced to turn the porch light off at 10:30 or 11:00. They always, ALWAYS, ran out of candy and my dad would quickly drive to the store to buy more.
It was Halloween motherfucker and it fucking RULED!
Sadly, tragically really, those days are over. Last year I moved to a house after living in an apartment the city for 15 years and I was ready for a long night of answering the door to a chorus of little voices screaming “TRICK-OR-TREAT” in unison but the doorbell rang twice, exactly TWICE! First, four cute little kids dressed as Spidermen and princesses rang my bell, YAY! Then an hour later two teens dressed as two teens rang the the bell and demanded candy. Happy fucking Halloween.
I ran into my 9 year old neighbor today and asked if she was excited about Halloween. She shrugged. I asked what she was dressing up as and she said “we are not allowed to dress up at our school.” I curled up into a ball and cried until my tears formed a puddle around me.
I know I sound like an old man complaining about “my day” but come on, what’s the deal? I know what the deal is, parents think their kids are going to be poisoned or razor bladed or whatever. This fear is baseless and not anchored by fact whatsoever. Creepy loners don’t put razor blades in apples and they don’t hand out poisoned candy. It just does not happen.
I honestly feel sad for these kids. Halloween was second only to Christmas when I was growing up. Maybe someone should create an “Extreme Trick-or-Treat” game for Xbox so kids can sit at home on their fat asses all night.
Hey, you know what could make this long line go faster? Listening to you complain about it for 20 minutes!
We all feel the same way when we open the door at the post office and see a long line. One of two words is usually whispered at this point, one begins with an F and the other an S. I go with the classic F-word but then I get over it and wait like everyone else.
But there is a different breed of person out there whose sole purpose on earth is to make an already long line feel even longer with constant sighs and groans. They shift from foot to foot and dramatically look down the line in an attempt to understand how there could POSSIBLY be a line at the post office 5 days before Christmas. They fold their arms while they huff and puff over this tragedy against mankind.
Oh no, it does not stop there does it. These annoying turds have one more trick up their sleeves and this is what really gets my blood boiling. These assholes love to try and draw everyone into some sort of customer revolt. They start to say things like, “can you believe this” or “this is ridiculous, why don’t they hire more people?” They assume just because you are stuck in the same line you will agree to join the killing spree they are planning. Look guy, I just want to mail these Star Wars figures to the guy who won them on Ebay, I don’t need to join your militia.
One time, while waiting in line for a rental car, this guy in line was losing his shit to the point where he drafted a crazy person petition and asked all of us to sign it. I have no idea what we would have been agreeing to exactly, but obviously everyone ignored him. I should also mention that we only waited in this line for approximately 6-8 minutes. I’m surprised we all lived through such hell!
I see the obvious irony in complaining about other people complaining so shut up.
Wow, this was some headline to start my day with this morning. How does something this insanely insensitive make it to the front page of Yahoo?
It’s so casual with its “Weekend of death and birth” announcement that it’s actually shocking. That was some CRAZY weekend huh? It’s like they are holding up Amy Poehler’s baby right in Jennifer Hudson’s face and saying “So sorry your family was murdered but look at this cute baby, don’t be such a sourpuss!” Even the photo of Hudson is an odd choice. It looks like the brutal slaying of her mother, brother and young nephew is some sort of wacky blooper that should be followed by a “BOING” sound effect.
And let’s not forget how mean this is to Amy Poehler! First of all, it makes her look like a gloating bitch even though obviously she had no control over this nonsense. Secondly, it’s a strange way to welcome her first child into the world. (Insert baby talk voice) “Hi little baby. Who’s a baby? You’re a baby, yes you are. Yes you are. Yes you are. Did you hear about Jennifer Hudson’s family getting murdered? Did you little baby? Who heard about the murder? Who heard about the murder? Who’s a little baby? Yes you are!”
I knew I was going to hate this movie and that is precisely why I avoided it until Sunday afternoon when I found myself in a situation that did not offer an escape. Having said that, I still was hopeful that it would be at least enjoyable enough to sit through. It wasn’t. I would re-title this movie “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Waste of My Day Off: You Motherfuckers.”
I love Michael Cera but this piece of shit relied so heavily on his “I’m a gentle, lovable kitten” persona that by the end of it I was even sick of him. Michael Cera, consider this your official warning. Strike one was Juno and Nick and Norah is strike two. He’s too good for this mindless, formulaic, teen movie crap. Yes, Juno was crap too so shut up.
Here’s the best part, after watching Nick and Norah struggle to discover their love for each other for 90 minutes while we, the audience, knew they “should really be together” they don’t even end up together at the end. They each go back to their jerky exes! Fuck off, of course Nick and Norah ended up together just as we all knew they would and that’s what made the movie as painful as a zit right on the edge of your lip. There is nothing to distract you, like a memorable storyline or performances, from the inevitable ending. Instead you have to sit through the torture of waiting for the thing you know is going to happen to happen in exactly the way you knew it was going to happen.
I was extra bummed because the director, Peter Sollett, wrote and directed a wonderful, simple film in 2002 called “Raising Victor Vargas” that is miles in the other direction of Nick and Norah. It also deals with young love but in an incredibly realistic and engaging way. Watch both and try to convince me that the “Hollywood” formula is better.
God, I have the BEST opinions EVER!
I’ve always really hated this dumb take off of Edward Hopper’s legendary painting Nighthawks. I know you’ve seen this hunk of crap titled “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” hanging on the walls of about 50% of the diners you frequent and 15% of the rooms pornos are filmed in. It features the famous corpses of Elvis Presley, James Dean, Marilyn Monroe and Humphrey Bogart drinking coffee and eating onion rings and I think it’s supposed to bring a tear to your eye and make you want to listen to all 5 hours of “American Pie” by Don McLean.
I always thought this poster was the ultimate example of bad, mass-produced “art” but now that I have done a little research about the artist who created it, Gottfried Helnwein, I am beginning to wonder if this was a joke that just got out of hand. When I took a look at his work I was shocked by how twisted, edgy, bizarre and quite frankly, how fucking cool a lot of his art is.
Even though Helnwein might be a talented artist it does not excuse you from displaying this bad art in your first apartment. If you’re going to do it, at least buy the classy version. Good news, it’s in stock!
Seriously? Huh? Not possible! NOT POSSIBLE! Someone wake me from this nightmare!
If you buy a treadmill for your child DCFS should remove them from your home and you should be immediately sterilized by a brutal smashing of said treadmill to your baby maker.
Just like when I discussed baby helmets, I am only referring to people who put normal, healthy kids on a treadmill. If they need baby-sized treadmills for some sort of physical therapy that’s fine, but if you would rather see your dumb kid taking a walk in your living room rather than playing outside like a normal human then there is something wrong with you and soon there will be something wrong with your child.
If my child asked me for one of these contraptions I would make them live outside in the wild for a week as punishment. Think of all the exercise little Bobby would get foraging for berries and building rudimentary shelters. Perhaps he will have to run from a family of rabid raccoons, I don’t know but that kid is going to lose at least 8 lbs without the aid of a god damn treadmill. Problem solved.