“I Got A Rock!”

And this is it!

Oh, this is just great. Here it is, Halloween, and our youngest son told us he was in need of a new costume for going out to Trick or Treat tonight.

Wasn’t the Scream costume we bought him five years ago, good enough? At the time, he begged for it—on his hands and knees while clutching my leg as I left the store—it WAS top of the line then. It’s only been five years… surely it’s top of the line now, I thought.

I mean I’ve been to the local Halloween Spirit store, and there are tons of plastic faced Frankenstein, Werewolf, and Dracula costumes hanging there from the 1940’s—all just under $9.95. Obviously, still as popular today as they were 75 years ago—why else would they still be hanging around?

So, SCREAM, must still be a scream after only five years…right?

But, that was not the worst of it… oh no. He further informed us that the neighborhood kids deliberately started avoiding our house on Halloween, not because it looked so scary—even though I did put a small fortune and many hour’s of work into making it look EXPENSIVELY spooky—just ask my protesting wife!

No, he said, instead, they are avoiding our house annually because we only hand out a piece of fruit and one piece of candy per Trick or Treater. He then mentioned how the kids all claim that the candy we give out is always the assorted Jolly Rancher kind.

Well, I can’t deny it, they are the best—smallest candy you can buy, that’s cheap!

Also, he mumbled something about how the kids pointed out that we always make sure to tuck into their trick or treat bags, a cost assessment breakdown of every bag of candy we buy for them.

This, along with an explanation that because of the increased cost in candy, we’ve had to cut back on our Halloween candy handouts. Can’t have ill-informed marauding Trick or Treaters now, can we?

After all, while the kids count their candy, we parents have to count the cost.

But now my son has warned us that the little urchins are planning an attack on our house—so devastating—that it would put to shame, any house teepeeing, rotten egg tossing, splattered window fiasco’s, they’ve ever done in the past.

And, that it involves the launching of a rock… the size of an asteroid, with the face of a skull no less!

And he said that they told him, that the only thing that could save us; would be if we bought him the best Halloween costume of his choice. And also, forking over the best candy money can buy when they show up at our door on October 31st.

Naturally, being nobody’s fool, I required proof of such a threat.

He produced the picture above. I asked him, “What’s this?” He told me it was the proof I demanded. When I told him I’d need more than just a picture, he said, “Call NASA and ask them if I doubt that a giant skull faced Rock is heading our way on Halloween?”

Naturally, I scoffed at him and called, NASA. Well, as it turns out; he telling the truth!

NASA, confirmed that there is an asteroid size rock hurdling our way for tonight, and that it does have a skull shaped face.

Of course, I immediately broke down and went out and bought my youngest son a new super deluxe Ironman suit, complete with all the fire power he could possibly need to defend our home against marauding ghouls and goblins—and big skull shaped rocks.

Plus, just in case trick or treat attackers were to get by him while he was out trick or treating, I took the added precaution of shelling out thousands of dollars for hundreds of boxes of See’s candies to hand out. You know, just in case.

After all, the last thing you’d ever want to say on Halloween is—wait for it—”I GOT A ROCK.”

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The More Things Stay The Same, The More They Change

Have you noticed, ‘The more things change, the more they stay the same.’ And yet, the more things stay the same, the more they change.

We are creatures of habit. We love familiarity. Then there’s that guy on the subway who is always trying to squeeze into a seat next to an attractive woman. I’d say that’s trying to get a bit too familiar. But, I’m talking about the kind of familiar regarding things we’ve come to expect. Things happening in their own appointed time, yet with unwanted progress.

Sure, we say we want to make progress, and yes we do want to make progress… just not at the expense of our comfort zone. Were comfortable with the idea of familiarity. Sometimes, there’s something cozy about having regular patterns.

Take for instance: Holidays always occurring at the same time every year. Baseball’s arrival to assure us winter will end. Football season ushering in autumn and the holidays, and basketball and hockey season to remind us to avoid going outside, or we’ll freeze our tuchus off.

Then there’s the blockbuster movies in summer, Oscar worthy films in the fall, and holiday movies that bring families together for winter. We left spring to the movie studios, so they wouldn’t go bust. Scraping a few bucks together from their box-office bombs by way of the poor saps with money to burn.

You’ll note, that cooperate America and Congress have not let Hollywood fail—OR THE BANKS!

Now granted, we’re not comfortable with hurricane season, fire season, and the political season—Particularly political season… all those politicians, telling us how good they’ve been all year with their lame campaign ads. HEY—WE’ll TELL SANTA!—but we’ve come to accept, bad things happen to good people.

Most notably… the voter! 

But, despite all this familiar sameness, some have sought to distort the familiar…with progress.

For example: Christmas and Halloween now start… on the Fourth of July! Baseball used to end in early Fall, but now the World Series ends in time for Thanksgiving! And Basketball and hockey still run concurrent—ending in July, and starting again in August!

Blockbuster movies still arrive in summer, but summer is shorter—late May till the Fourth of July! The Fall release of Oscar worthy films (all two weeks) get a second Fall release—in late January, just in time for the Academy Awards! And corporate America and Congress are still burning through our money.

Well, some things never change. Our tax dollars at work—FOR THEM!

Hurricane season no longer see’s hurricanes named after women. But, we’ve never doubted men can be crazy too! Mother Nature is no longer the only one with a fire season, now arsonist have gone and extended it! And political season; well politicians still feel we the voter can’t get enough of a bad thing…

So, now they’re bashing each other all year round—AND AT OUR EXPENSE!

So you see; The more things stay the same, the more they change—like me, now I’m adding even more exclamation points!!!

The Trick Of Eating Treats—Filled With Halloween Woe

Imagine if you will; it’s just past midnight on Halloween and the little ghost and goblins have completely avoided your house again… for the umpteenth year. You start upstairs—candle in hand—munching on all those leftover sweets.

But, as you are about to drift off to sleep suddenly, A GHASTLY TALE OF WOE begins to emerge from the darkened shadows of your cluttered attic—yes, we’re talking about your mind… it’s alive… it’s Alive… IT’S  A-L-I-V-E! Too dramatic?

Alright, but lying there for centuries—just gathering dust—was this idea for a ghostly story, and now IT SEIZES upon your imagination. (achoo!)

Okay granted… perhaps your attic’s not all that old, gray, and dusty (like mine), but trust me it sounds creepier that way.

And guess what? As luck would have it—while I was rummaging about the cobwebs of my own cluttered attic—I just happened to stumble across such a manuscript.

Hmm, how do you suppose that got there—you wonder? Ahem.

Yes, I know. But, who else do you know goes stumbling about in the darker recesses of their own mind looking for ghost stories—with only a candle and a completely eaten bowl of candy? Exactly… so I don’t know why you’re so surprised?

Why did I stumble over it? Because its dark up there that’s why! No, I don’t remember why I was carrying a candle around inside my head instead of a flashlight, but that’s not important.

What is important, is the fact that I didn’t drop the candle. Because then… POOF! And up I’d go in spontaneous human combustion. I can just see myself trying to explain that to the coroner during the autopsy.  

Anyway, as I said, I found this tale of woe. Are you scared yet? Okay… well whatever you do… don’t move. I’ll be right back with the smelling salts.

Here, take a whiff… feel any better? Okay, well I’m sorry you’re scared of me and not my post. But, you’re laying there now, so you might as well hear the whole story.

From here on out it just gets weird.

Whad’ya mean it’s been pretty weird up to now? I told you, the weird part hasn’t come yet. Here, you better take another whiff of smelling salts… I don’t think you’re all there. Any improvement? No? Well, I don’t have any sleeping pills, and no… you’re not going to get out of this that easily.

So, do you remember Walt Disney’s, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow? Good, because this has nothing to do with it.

Unless; you can remember the end of the story with the voice of Bing Crosby (as the voice of Brom Bones) weaving a tale of terror concerning The Legend of Sleepy Hollow in song? Then you might want to sing along.

Shall we begin? Well too bad, were going to begin anyway…

You squirm in bed and hallucinate, about what’s in your closet when it gets late. Come about midnight the ghost and banshees, gather in their nighties and their bed time jammies. They’re not in costume, but they let out big cries, about the clothes in your closet and their humongous size.

They call you fat saying you’re not thin, and that you’re overly stretching out your skin! Ha, ha I’m telling you dude avoid the light, cause’ you won’t fit your costume come Halloween night.

Your costumes a tight fit on Halloween night! (ignore them… they’re just a ghostly chorus dressed up as sheep)

And when the girls have a jamma’ party on All Hollows Eve, they’ll all consume and eat lots of candy. Yeah ghost are bad but you’re the worst, especially if the headless horseman drives your hearse.

He drives a hearse on Halloween night??? (again… that’s just the ghostly chorus if you happen to be singing along) 

Now go a joggin’ across the land and drop those pounds off if you can. Then you’ll confront those demons and moan… I’M LOOKING IN THE MIRROR MY HOW I’VE GROWN!

Beware, be scared, its too late. You ate all the candy in exchange for weight! (clever chorus, huh?)

Yes the Horseman’s out for a spin… trying to see who he can drag in. Now don’t be like him and lose your head, stop eating so much before going to bed.

They say he’s tired of the whole lot, particularly those who eat lollipops. So he trick or treats one night a year, driving that hearse while striking fear.

He hates weight watchers and folks too thin, FOLLOWERS OF JENNY CRAIG who don’t food binge. Don’t try to hide if you pounds to shed, the Headless Horseman seeks a fat head.

(ALL TOGETHER CHORUS!)

So dip into your dip and chompity-chomp, keep on consuming all that soda pop. If you lose your figure not eating bran, it’s for you he comes—that headless man.

Now if your not one who’s in the know, take a tip from me, you were thinner one year ago. But you avoided the mirror and failed to look, and now my friend YOUR GOOSE IS COOKED!.

If you cross his hearse come round the bend, don’t pretend it’s not the end. It’s not a black and white but it’s cursed, with the headless horseman driving in first.

Now, while you eat your candies with delight, remember you’re in for quite a fright. You should keep a look out—and beware—the horseman comes for more than just hair.

(AGAIN, ALTOGETHER NOW GHOSTLY CHORUS)

So dip into your dip and chompity-chomp, keep on consuming all that soda pop. If you lose your figure not eating bran, it’s for you he comes—that   H-E-A-D-L-E-S-S   M-A-N! (and fade out)

“The Headless Horseman” was written by Don Rage and Gene De Paul for the film, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, and performed by Bing Crosby and the Rythmaires. Not in this post of course, that would just be too weird-er.

I seriously doubt, however, that they would have ever wanted to take credit for my horrific spin on their Halloween masterpiece. But, I think November 1st is about to become a new getting in shape day.

BOO! 

Grog, And The Mars Moon Mission

Ever since, Grog, invented the first boom boom stick—suitable for clubbing T-Rex over the head with—we people have always been interested in future advancement.

Despite Grog’s miscalculation on the height differential—resulting in death (and messy) demise of Grog the first, by said T-Rex—his people have pressed forward in an attempt to push the boundaries of scientific advancement.

For instance, they came up with the ever practical new Rubik’s Cube MP3 Player. So portable, it fits right into your fanny pack. Well, not QUITE INTO YOUR FANNY PACK, but with a little assistance from a crowbar and a barrage of profanity, you might be able to fit the cube in… BUTT barely..

Yet, not content with creating space for a Rubik’s Cube MP3 Player that fits into your fanny pack like a lump of cube, Grog’s ancestors had also wanted to explore space of another kind. O-U-T-E-R  S-P-A-C-E (echo, echo, echo)!

You see, Grog—and his offspring—have always had this thing about going to the moon. This makes perfect sense when you consider how, after they made a mess of the air and oceans down here on earth, the next logical step would naturally be…going to the moon.

Now initially, Grog thought that catapults could do the trick. That was of course, before Grog went up and did a splash down in the middle of the ocean. There, waiting patiently, but ravenously to perform the recovery part of the mission, was a Mosasaurus—like the one seen here in Jurassic World. (Burp!) 

Undeterred though—despite finding what was left of Grog and his loincloth washing up on shore—his offspring never gave up hope of polluting our moon too.

So competing—as ancestors are apt to do—Astronaut Grog’s ancestors hatched a plan to make Cosmonaut Grog’s family jealous of this possible super achievement. This they did, when they discovered that, Cosmonaut Grog, might actually make it to the moon before, Astronaut Grog.

Astronaut Grog, realizing that a trip to the moon would involve getting through the Van Allen radiation belts—which hang in a low orbit around the earth (a problem which NASA’s Orion mission Grog’s, are JUST NOW ADDRESSING here in 2015) for deep space exploration—decided to hire a mega Hollywood producer Grog, to stage a fake moon landing.

Surprisingly, this subterfuge actually worked!

It so fooled Cosmonaut Grog and his fellow comrades enough, that they felt defeated. This left them wanting to climb into a giant bottle of Vodka and forget about the moon—yet another seemingly impossible Grog task, albeit, an intoxicating one. However, they settled on building a space station instead.

Now, this space station would be designed to harmlessly float underneath the Van Allen radiation belts—something scientifically possible—and could then be realistically reached by a space shuttle.

But when Cosmonaut Grog—who had since reverted back to a neanderthal Grog, but now calling himself, Putin the Grog (all the while not wearing a shirt at every possible moment…especially when wrestling Saber-toothed Tigers) heard about a Astronaut named, Damon the Grog, landing on the planet Mars, well all hell broke loose. Now Astronaut, Damon the Grog was telling his story in a major motion picture called, “The Martian” and that was the last straw for Putin the Grog!

Now Putin the Grog was wanting to know how NASA Grog’s, could have possibly erased the actual footage of the supposed moon-landing? I mean, come on… it’s the ultimate technological achievement for Grog’s the world over!

This forced NASA’s Grog’s to undertake and oversee a project to digitize old grainy footage of the first moon landing. Grog’s the world over now wanted to know what’s next—erasing “The Martian” so that NASA’s Grog’s could get into digitizing Hollywood films?

What are these NASA Grog’s really trying to hide? Another Grog encounter, but this time with a possible Moonasaurus, or maybe even a Martianasaurus—OR BOTH?

Why, all this Grog vs Grog dealing and double-dealing is enough to make any average Grog, want to go and drink a keg of Grog!

Its Writers Day, Now What Should We Do?

October 8th is Writers Day. Yeah…I didn’t know it either. But thanks to my good friend, Austin, over at https://moviewriternyu.wordpress.com/2015/10/08/sound-the-horns-its-writers-day/ who has declared it so, we all can celebrate it now.

That being the case, and we all being writers, don’t you think we should celebrate this new NATIONAL holiday annually. Maybe by having a parade, a barbecue, fireworks and of course… a substantial income from all that writing we do?

Well then…what are we all waiting for? I already got the festivities rolling by lighting up the barbecue and waking the family. Then I lined them up out in front of the house carrying printed copies of my favorite blog posts. And then we paraded them through the neighborhood. It has been years since our oldest played a trumpet. A little loud, but still bad.

And my wife, with baton in hand (reluctantly) led the kids down the street.

The neighbors loved the costumes (the kids were all in their pajamas, their uncombed hair added to the merriment), and police were lined all along the route. Funny how things work out, the parade ended at the police station. How fortuitous for us, as the police said some group was disturbing the peace.

Nothing like a police escort to keep the crowd under control…at five A.M. Some group is always ready to disturb the peace. Hope they catch whoever they were doing it.

And, I sure hope someone turns our steaks over too, as I left them unattended as we had to start the parade. Now we’re trying real hard not to miss those fireworks tonight.

Seems there was a little something the police want us to attend first. The Desk Sergeant called it, an arraignment? Probably just a formality to say thank you for the parade. However, I expect by the time I get home tonight, I’ll be rolling in doe—or is it, dough?—for all my great writing. Never could figure the correct spelling out for that word doe though.

Bet, no one questions it though because… I’m a writer!

In either case, thank you, Austin, for a great new holiday to celebrate my prowess for using lots of weird, and wonderful words. I think they’re going to come in quite handy with our affidavit tonight, declaring today as a new official holiday!

Now, if only the police could catch those responsible for creating that public nuisance earlier today.

It’z Oktoberfest Wiz Zah K!

Hello! Hello zare! Hi, can you zee me? I am zah von vaving at you! Yah, yah zhat’s me. Hello, and velcome to zah Oktoberfest wiz zah K festival, being held here in zah Kluttered Attic. Today, zah Attic is on zah road in Munich, home of zah world famous annual Oktoberfest, wiz zah K. 

Zare, zare… calm yourzelf zee, becauze you are still invited. Zeeing az you are not wiz me here in zah Munich, vee vill just pretend zhat you are. Zee, zhat vay you vill not miss out on all zah fun.

Now, allow me to introduce myzelf, I am zah sarapist for zah kookie writer of zis klazy blog. Za writer? Vell he is on…zah holiday here… yah, yah, zats it, he is on za holiday!

However, zince he is inebriated and currently incapacitated—too much Good Bavarian beer for him, and maybe not enough schnitzel—I vill be conducting zah virtual tour of our Oktoberfest. Ve like to call it, Oktoberfest with zah K. Zort of a little play on zee American vay of zaying, October wiz zah C…zee?

First of all, you should know zhat it is Vunderbar here! Yes, zare are so many vonderful zings to enjoy. For exzample, watching all zah tuba players marching by—oh zah harmony of a finely tuned Tuba is not to be missed. Zis is followed by zah all you can eat zauerkraut. All you could possibly vant, and zen zome.

It’z a good zing too, I hate za stuff.

And ven you are done doing all zat, you can vash it all down with a big frothy stein of zah liquid gold. You may have heard of zah zong zah “Beer Barrel Polka.” Vell, ve roll out zah barrels and you do zah beer barrel polka vile dodging zem, az ve drink all zah beer.

Ha, ha, ha, but zhats Bavaria for you. Ve haz a great sense of zah humor wiz zah best beer in zah vworld. Oh…and be sure to vear your Lederhosen wiz zah funny little Alpine hat, because you never knoz vhen ve might invite you to drink from Das Boot. Yah, yah… zah boot!

Zorry zhat my English vas not zo good, but zat happens even vhen I’m zober. I bet your German is probably not zo good eizha zoe after drinking zah beer, right?

Minolta DSC

Well, I haz to go vake up zah sleeping beauty blogger from zis nap. It’s time for zah nightlife, and zare is still zo much to do. Did you know, zhat zis kookie guy hazn’t even zeen zah parade, nor rode zah rides, or visited all zah tents wiz zah pretzels and all zah tasty bratwurst yet? No vonder he’s in zah sarapy sessions vith me!

Zoe, he still needs lotz of zah help vile on zah couch in my office.

But, az I have told him many times before, zah artificial cure is zah beer, and zhat vill do for now, until he can zit back on zah couch, come zah Monday. Good zing he’s a cash cow. Zhat means lotz more Euro’s for me.