Houston, we have a problem.
This is my first Halloween in my house. A few weeks ago, I was being told by my friend and his wife that I would be swarmed with kids looking for candy. I was told that even if I had the lights off, I would have kids banging on my door demanding treats. I was told they blew through eight bags of candy last year.
So, this year I was going to be prepared.
Oh yeah, yesterday I bought ten, yes ten, bags of candy. And since I remember being a kid and going out on Halloween and getting cheap ass shit candy, I was not going to let that happen to my neighborhood children, oh no. I was not going to have disappointed children leave my house, fuck that bullshit. I bought Kit Kat, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Crunch, M&Ms, and Twix. Chocolate baby, it's where it's at.
But, of course this was going to happen. Of course barely anyone was going to show up at my house, and leave a man who is now without nicotine with a big fucking bowl of chocolate goodness. Of course this man would also just have his wisdom teeth taken out.
I mean for fucks sake, if you want to torture this fat man any more please just remove my testicles. In fact, have a squirrel do it. Because the only other thing that could make me feel more on edge would be to have a squirrel chomping at my ball sack.
What the fuck am I supposed to do with all this candy? I can't eat it. I am not dating anyone so I can't give it to the her that does not exist.
Oh hey, I have an idea ladies of the DC metro area!
Tits for Twix!
(this message brought to you by pain meds, nic fits, caffeine and frustration)