Well I Threw Up My Hands! And I Heard, "Amen!"

Oh my hell. NapBloPoMo is over. It's over.

And now we can look forward to this...


Fuck yeah. Two Lego advent calendars.

(And slap me silly, I did a craft with the kids too.)

Oh, I'm Gettin' Nuttin' for Christmas

The saga began two years ago when someone didn't put anything in my stocking. Last year Aaron proclaimed he wasn't doing anything for Christmas, so I took care of my own stocking. Then he got pissed at me for not buying myself presents and thought I did it to purposely make him look like an ass.

Because not buying myself presents makes him look like an ass.

So after the second Christmas fiasco, Aaron decided to write this on the calendar...


Last night he bitched about not having my list yet (it's STILL FUCKING NOVEMBER) so in my 11 p.m. sleepiness I scratched this out....


AND HE TOOK OFFENSE.

"Well, ::huff:: if I have to buy you one present I might as well buy them all. And I don't want to do that."

Oh, woe is you. Would you like me to powder your pampered ass?

Seriously, I know, this is ridiculous. I am very fortunate that my biggest problem with my husband is that he doesn't like to go shopping for others.

But, what? I'm not worth the effort? I'm not worth your time?

This whole fiasco is making me feel very insignificant.

So this morning I told Aaron to give that back to me. Fuck it. I'll do it myself. It's really not worth fighting over. And do you know what he did? HE THREW A HISSY FIT.

"Oh, no. I'll do your shopping. And you'll just have to deal with what I give you [nevermind I've made a fucking list of ideas and it is SITTING ON THE TABLE, BUT WHATEVER] and if you don't get anything you want that's your problem."

And then he literally stomped out of the house.

I fucking hate the holidays.

Now I'm with You Baby, the Loneliness is Over

I'm guessing it would be bad to call them my new best friends?


It may not be a completely hand-crafted holiday, but I'm gonna work on it.

Ha, Ha, Woman it's a Cryin' Shame, But You Ain't Got Nobody Else to Blame

I got this spiffy magnet cloth to clean the computer screen and whilst I was cleaning I wiped everywhere and all of the sudden the internets didn't work.

I ran down to the basement (because, you know, I don't know a better place to keep all the internets equipment other than in the basement next to the favoritist place for the basement to flood with the power strip set precariously on top of a shoe box; okay, actually I do know a better place but that would require Aaron relinquishing the "cave" and getting rid of his hoarding issues and that shit ain't happening) (in my sever frenzy, I just said "ain't" and I DON'T SAY AIN'T) to reboot the basement computer, ran upstairs and the internets didn't work still.

Half an hour of rebooting, rebooting, turning power cords off and rebooting later, I realize I swiped my wireless button clean and turned the internets off.

Good God, it's amazing the Universe trusted me with children.

I Want to Hang You Up On My Wall Like a Crucifix

It's probably really pathetic how getting a new roasting pan has sent me over the moon in delirious happiness.


But come on, it was also fifty percent off and not purchased on Black Friday.

So my soul is redeemed, right?

Mamma Said, "Idle Hands are Devil's Handy Work;" Oh, the Trouble You'll Get Into

I know it sounds cliché, but I totally needed a long ass weekend to decompress.

Not that much "decompressing" happened, of course. It was more like "getting my head out of my ass."

I'm really good at the shoving my head up my ass. I don't know if it's the longer days or what but the anxiety rises (as does the prayer for a snow day - who doesn't like a good movie day?) and the depression sets in.

I began cooking Thanksgiving dinner on Tuesday. Three days in the kitchen and I finally began to feel better. Odd for some, I imagine, but cooking puts me in a good mood and clears my mind. Must work on that more (not that I don't already cook about 28 dinners a month).

Now with the holiday weekend over, we are suppose to focus on Christmas. I fucking hate that.

Driving down my street, most people have their trees up already. Geesh. Talk about some fucking peer pressure right there. And the presents, gah, the presents. Seriously? Can we talk?

I'm so damn tired of being a consumer. But in the same breathe let me say, I think we need more legos.

So we've sat down. We're working on a budget (good; very, very good) and making a list. Trying to find that special balance of spirit and not growing debt.

I'm really hoping to hand-make some gifts this year, but I just don't know what quite to make. Like, the grandmas -- perhaps some coasters? Same for our parents? Like I said, I'm tired of the consumerism. I don't want to buy people shit to clutter up their home. Gah.

In previous years, I've made food (but everyone feels guilt for the waistlines), purchased bath salts (great for those who actually take baths, not so great for those who do not), gotten gift certificates to plays (and they actually were not used).

With today's society of get-what-you-want-when-you-want-it and the dumbfounding frowning upon being thrifty or handmade, where's the balance of satisfying the gift receivers along with making the gift giver happy?

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh, Who Lives in a Pineapple Under the Sea?

When, What to My Wondering Eyes Should Appear, But a Miniature Sleigh

"Hey Laura, come here!"

"Yeah, Kathy?"

"Did you know there's a way to turn a turkey carcass into a sleigh?"

"Wha?"

"You can ::snapping bones:: turn a turkey ::snap:: into a sleigh. For Santa. See?"

"Uh, no..."

"Well, ::bones cracking:: I haven't broken off all the bones ::snap:: yet. There. That's better. See? You can turn it into a sleigh. You just boil it then you can decorate it. Like with glitter."


"Why the hell would I want to do that for?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE CRAFTY, THAT'S WHY."

Gobble, Google Goo and Gobble, Gobble Giggle

May your dinner be allergen-free, your bellies full and your spirits light.

And I am continuing to take a special pleasure in wiping that stupid fucking smile off the Kindergarten teacher's face for telling her no, I don't really think all the Native Americans gave you personal permission to teach my child to call them all "Indians."

Stupid, offending bitch.

Cause I'm in too Deep and I'm Trying to Keep Up Above in My Head Instead of Goin' Under

There's an ongoing joke that whenever my friend Shawna calls I'm cooking.

Always.

I am undoubtedly cooking when she calls. And dude, she's been calling all damn day today.

As You Leave Me Please Would You Close the Door

I have gluten-free bread rising on the counter and thought this meme I saw here and here (aw, crap, I lost the link found it!) would be good.

It is good, but it takes a long ass time to complete. Oh my hell.

Here’s how it goes:

1) Answer the questions and type into Google image search

2) Post a picture from first results page

• the age you will be on your next birthday

•a place you’d like to visit


•one of your favorite places


•your favorite object


•your favorite food


•your favorite animal


•your favorite color


•name of a past pet


•where you live


•1st grade teacher’s last name


•your middle name


•a bad habit of yours


•your college major


•your favorite holiday



(crap, some of those are tiny)

And Please Don't Tell Me Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

Today I...


Sent Griffin off to school.


Had a meeting with a Yellow Pages designer and oversaw the designing of my dad's company's ad.



Picked Griffin up from school and spent 30 minutes working on numbers (with lots and lots of erasing).


Purchased a walking foot.

What still needs to be accomplished:

1. Take the boys to the park to play with friends (holy fuck, it's 75 degrees outside)

2. seeing if walking foot will actually fit sewing machine (Kenmore, which really should be called Ken-I-like-to-fuck-with-your-mind-more)

3. complete Thanksgiving menu (with us and my parents, would it be inappropriate to add caramel cupcakes to the list of desserts which include cranberry stewed pears, two pumpkin pies and an apple pie?)

4. make grocery shopping list

5. go to Whole Foods, buy food and turkey

6. cry at Whole Foods bill

7. cry and suck my thumb in the car in Whole Food's parking lot

All that seems totally reasonable to accomplish today, right?

That's Just the Way it is, Some Things Will Never Change

We are covered in a river of leaves.

If They Were Me and I Was You, Would You Have Liked a Present Too?

"Hey, Laura. I was talking to Bobby. You remember Bobby, right? Kathy's friend's son?"

"Um... yeah..."

"Well we were talking and he's single again and having a hard time finding dates..."

"Uh-huh..."

"And I told him I'd ask you if you had any single friends."

"Um. Dad? He's significantly younger than me."

"No, he's not. He's your age."

"No, his brother is my age. He's way younger than me."

"How old are you?"

"Jesus, Dad. Thanks for remembering. I'm ::gulp:: 30."

"Holy shit you got old. Bobby's 23."

"THANKS A LOT, DAD. YOU DO REALIZE YOU'RE THE ONE DRAGGING ME INTO OLD AGE."

"Fuck. How old does this make me?"

I Like My Sugar with Coffee and Cream

"Here Mommy...


... you look like you need another latte."

Never at a Loss of Words She Pulls Out of the Blue

I just changed a massive poopy diaper. It was rather horrible. I tired to convince Griffin to change it, but he's under the impression that that's not really a big brother job. Damn.

I went to Whole Foods today and ordered our turkey for Thanksgiving. I also bought three pounds of Mild Italian Pork Sausage because they haven't had it in the store for over a month and I guess I had the feeling I needed to stock up. Like a chipmunk. Or something.

I'm in the midst of planning our Thanksgiving menu. My father is apparently regressing into a Desire of Re-Living a Shitty Childhood because he actually asked for Stove Top stuffing, canned green beans to be mixed with canned corn, canned yams in syrup warmed up and canned cranberry shit to be sliced in round disks. I'm very concerned about his mental well-being.

I paid an Actual Bill today from Actual Money I Earned Working a Real Job. It was a bittersweet moment and I really would have rather purchased myself a digital SLR camera but oh well, I'm an adult and being adult can really suck ass like that.

This morning I received two emails from people inquiring about eating gluten-free. Which really should motivate me to launch the new cooking site. I have this feeling I need to put a picture of myself in my first post and I'm really not in the mood to take a picture of myself. I've gained about three pounds in the past week (gluten-free devils food cupcakes with dark chocolate buttercream will do that, I suppose; although I really don't think it's fair) and that equated to four additional chins.

Have I mentioned that Darwin's a Really Good Pooper? I've changed four of those today and he now has a fifth waiting for me. He refuses to potty train and proclaims diapers are His Favoritist Thing in the Whole Wide World and that equates to me being Royally Fucked.

Snappin' Her Fingers (Oh Oh Ooo Oh)

First of all, what's up with all the Christmas shit? Seriously, the day after Halloween two local radio stations when all Christmas on my ass. And, of course, it's the light rock stations so now I can't mellow out in the morning to the tunes of Billy Joel and Elton John.

Santa has already come to the malls (and I hate malls enough as it is, to add an early arrival by Santa sent me onto a flurry of rage) and Salvation Army bell ringers are already harassing me for cash. Seriously. Shit like this is what ruins the holiday season for me.

Okay, I'm going to try to answer some questions that people have been asking. If I missed any, ask again in the comments today and I'll answer them in comments.

Keri wanted to ask what plant was in the middle. She called it inappropriate. For the life of me, I can't figure out which one is inappropriate. Which one? The brown thing? In the orange cup? That's some funky seed pod from a tree from Griffin's preschool from last fall. The one next to it? In the Holiday Inn Express cup? That's a Venus Fly Trap. Does that answer your question?

Rebecca F. wants to know how Aaron's ass is. I find it completely hilarious how vested the internets is in the well-being of my husband's asshole. And I'm so very grateful that Aaron doesn't actually read my site. As he says, "I live it, I don't need to read it."

Anyway, Aaron's ass seems to be doing better. With the help of you all, I diagnosed him with a yeast infection. Which, actually, is where men get their yeast infections. I'm so glad I have a vagina.

He's been eating lots of yogurt and it's been helping a lot. It's not nearly as itchy or ahem mucus-y. It's not back to being what he considers to be normal, but it's a lot better. And definitely not pinworms, which is really great because we'd all have to go on medicine for that and I'm quite certain I'd be allergic to it.

Amy asked what the pea-looking plant was called. The tag says "senecio rowleyanus." The internets says it's also called "sting of pearls" or "string of beads." Griffin picked it out at our favorite nursery and I think it was two or three dollars.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to talk to the principal of Griffin's school. His teacher still hasn't replied to Friday night's email. I talked to the parent of the kid Griffin claims he was just drawing on and that's exactly what he said what happened. The principal is hoping we can work out our differences with the teacher on our own without intervention; I told him that it's quite difficult to do that if she doesn't communicate with us. Now I know why some people call some women the c word. Which I don't do. But now I understand.

I got some toys yesterday. Wanna see?


Don't they look fun?

My dad has been bitching at me to hem his jeans. I've had one pair since April and one since August. Geesh. Think I should hem them?

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh; Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh; Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh; The Right Stuff

This is what posting everyday has reduced me to...


... a picture of the kitchen window and singing NKOTB songs.

Oh my hell.

I Tried All Night Not to Break Down and Cry as the Tears Rolled Down My Face

Aaron's parents came by this weekend for a super-short trip. Actually, we weren't the highlight of their trip, but more on that later.

Yesterday as we were eating lunch I asked Aaron's step-father about how everyone in the family was doing. And he replied, "Well, you heard about Brenda's babysitter, right?"

(Brenda is Aaron's step-sister, she has three daughters - 10, 2 and 10 months.)

"No..."

"Oh. Um. Well.."

Brenda's babysitter (I just typed "babyshitter" which is So Very Appropriate), who keeps the two little ones all day on weekdays, was just arrested for murdering a baby in her care.

Murdered. A. Baby. In. Her. Care.

The baby in question was five months old and crying a lot with teething. Supposedly, she crushed up an Ambien (prescription sleeping pill) and put it in his bottle. He was dead within minutes.

Initially, everyone thought the baby died of SIDS. The parents of the baby even kept their four year old child in the daycare (as did Aaron's step-sister). Then the toxicology report came back and then the daycare provider confessed.

Oh my God. Can you even imagine?

I'm the first person to claim I don't have my shit together. But to give a baby a sleeping pill? And then she confessed to giving nearly all the children she cared for Benadryl to keep the "calm" while in her care.

Holy fuck.

A Licky Boom-Boom Down

Ha!

I remembered to post today!

And now, I'm going to go eat a gluten-free chocolate cupcake with dark chocolate buttercream.

And it Came to Me Then That Every Plan is a Tiny Prayer to Father Time

After letting everyone cool off for a couple of hours yesterday, I talked to Griffin about what happened at school.

According to him, he came back from reading class and the boy that sits next to him was playing with his pencil. Griffin asked for it back. The boy wouldn't give it back. Griffin raised his hand to tell the teacher. The teacher never called on him and his arm got tired. He took the pencil out of the boy's hand. The boy laughed. Griffin drew on the boy's arm. The boy laughed some more. Griffin drew on the boy's forehead. The boy thought that was very funny. The teacher yelled at Griffin and sent him to the "safety seat."

Now, Griffin's story and the teacher's story is worlds apart. And given that Griffin was able to tell Aaron the exact same story more than five hours after he told me... well, I think you can guess who I (and Aaron) believe.

Now, regardless if it went down like Griffin claims -- he still should have never drawn on the boy's face. We. Do. Not. Touch. Faces. In. This. Family. Griffin will not get television privileges for a week.

Last night Aaron sat down and wrote an email to Griffin's teacher. This is the second time she's sent him to the safe seat, tore me a new one over it and didn't sent home the form for what he did (which, I do believe, is school policy).

How he managed to write an email without calling her a dimwitted fucktard is way beyond for me to comprehend.

Obviously, this isn't over yet.

That Was My Mistake

Griffin took it upon himself to act as a vigilante at school today and nearly stabbed another child's eye out.

Given our history with an eye accident, I have no fucking clue what to do. I sent it him to his room (because I firmly do not believe in spankings, and I'm actually afraid I'd beat the shit out of him right now if I did) for the day. He'll stay there until Aaron gets home from work.

I feel like an utter and complete failure as a parent.

And I cannot, for the life of me, comprehend what an appropriate punishment would be for this. He's five. Five. Fucking five years old and trying to stab someone's eye out because they stole his pencil.

Maybe She's Just Looking for Someone to Dance With

::kiss, kiss, kiss::

"Woman, you need to get off me."

::kiss, kiss, kiss:

"Why you're being so affectionate?"

::kiss:: "I'm always affectionate." ::kiss, kiss, kiss::

"True. But you're particularly bad today."

::kiss, kiss, kiss::

"Oh, I know why. You released an egg."

::kiss, kiss, kiss:: "You act like that's a bad thing." ::kiss, kiss::

"Well, taking advantage of your hormones wouldn't be a bad thing. But actually fertilizing that egg would be quite horrible."

::kiss, kiss:: "Love you too." ::kiss, kiss, kiss::

Doctor, Doctor, Can't You See I'm Burnin', Burnin'?

So the wonderful Mary tagged me for a seven things about me meme. Since I have a call into two different doctors' offices, I thought this would make a nice topic.

Seven Medical Oddities concerning me.


1. From birth till about five I was constantly sick. My dad thought I was going to die more times than he can recall. I ran fevers over 106 and I'm absolutely convinced that's what made me both crazy and a nerd.

2. When I was 12 my dad rushed me to the hospital because my abdomen hurt so bad. The doctors told me dad I was pregnant. I told my dad I must be carrying the next sweet baby Jesus, because that wasn't possible. Two days later doctors figured out I was really, really constipated.

3. When I was 17 I was stopped at a red light with a friend in the car. In the rear view mirror, I saw the car behind me getting rear ended. So I threw my arm in front of my friend to brace her and with my other arm I braced myself on the steering wheel. By doing that, I caused my spine to get majorly fucked up and caused it to curve wrong in my neck. It took two years of going to the chiropractor before I was considered "normal" again.

4. When I was 19 I kept getting sick and rushed to the ER whenever I ate cheesecake. Two years, multiple doctors and a full body scan later, they discovered I had an ovarian cyst the size of a grapefruit. Six months later I was diagnosed with poly-cystic ovaries (PCOS), and have been on medication ever since.

5. Being diagnosed with PCOS still didn't cause all my problems. I still had serious problems with my stomach so I began seeing an alternative doctor. Multiple tests later I was diagnosed with an allergy to yeast (bye, bye bread) and Wilson's Syndrome, a thyroid disorder that causes your body not to convert your thyroid enzymes properly.

6. That helped, but I still had numerous stomach problems. So my regular doctor decided to do a stomach scope and everything was "normal" but he found "funny, odd ulcers" in my intestines. So I could have been diagnosed with Celiac Disease at 21 but wasn't. Instead, they gave me anti-acid medicines.

7. When I was 27 I woke up one morning with the inability to move the left side of my body. Aaron took me to the doctor, who said I likely had a stroke and sent me to the ER. The doctors at the ER said I had a brain aneurysm that was unfindable in the tests and I would likely die in a few months. The next day I went back to the chiropractor and they said I was subluxated and adjusted me. As long as I stay in alignment, I'm fine. (Thanks, car accident.)

8. When Darwin was 13 months old we did a full allergy panel on him. Based on the fact he's allergic to every damn thing in the world, we decided I would get a blood allergy panel as well. At 28, I was diagnosed with an allergy to wheat and Celiac Disease.

Whew.

And people wonder why, with my myriad of medical problems, I get sick easily.

I'm defective. That's why.

How the Home Computer Has Me on the Run

At six o'clock this morning (fuck, that's early), my computer decided to throw a temper tantrum rivaling all two-year-olds' hissy fits in the destruction of my psyche.

Basically, the little bitch (yes, my computer is a girl) (a teen-aged, hormonal one that winces at the notion of being seen with me in public) decided no! It wasn't working.

After half an hour of bitching (and Aaron telling me to stop cursing at the damn computer) (pot calling the kettle black), I went to the basement to spread my verbal wrath on the modem and wireless router.

Hehehehehehe, I said router.

::blink, blink:: Wait. Was that funny?

Anyway, three hours later and I was about ready to pull my fucking hair out because hello, that shit is Aaron's responsibility. So I called him and he gave me a seven page list of Shit To Check Before Crying To Him About It and all I could think of was my obligation to NaBloPoMo and fuck, was I going to have to figure out how to post from the library? Because you all better believe that I would still uphold my obligation to NaBloPoMo from the grave if that's what it took.

Unless, of course, "from the grave" included unlimited amounts of chocolate-chocolate cupcakes and Legos and in that case? Fuck you all, that's one hell of a party right there.

Anyway, imagine my surprise when the shit that Aaron told me to do actually worked.

Amazing, right? That a man could be correct for once?

A Golden Bird That Flies Away, A Candle's Fickle Flame

I'm completely fucking out of my mind.

For some reason, I decided a month ago it would be a good idea to purchase some spring bulbs on a whim.

Good ideas on a whim are never actually good ideas.

So yesterday I had to act on that supposed good idea and plant 50 daffodils and 60 grape hyacinths yesterday. Which, of course, also required me taking the children with me (by. my. self. oh. my hell.) to the garden center to purchase ten 40-pound bags of top soil, load it onto a cart and into the van (again, with the By. My. Self. Ness. Oh. My. Hell.). Aaron lugged it to the backyard for me (yes, sometimes he can be Very Useful) (barely) but he just dumped it in the middle of the patio. Then I had to distribute said 400 pounds of soil in the garden bed (wash away is a bitch) and then move 120 gallons of leaves from other areas in the yard to cover the freshly planted bed.


For that much work, it should look like a fucking Monet. Instead it looks like messy autumn leaves.

Other pictures from the garden:


The "triangle" where all the motherfucking echinacea grow. I really fucking hate echinacea, but the birds love to eat the seeds in the winter, and that happens just outside the eating area's window, where of course all the boys like to watch the fucking birds all winter so I? Have to let it continue to grow.

Supposedly.


Just so everyone knows: no. Roses do not grow tomatoes. It's called rosehips. And I'm deathly allergic. But it's kinda sorta pretty. And I get to make fun of people who gasp and ask, "how'd you get your roses to grow tomatoes?!"


And the "island." The island that won't grow shit because it's too shaded. I got a few zinnias to sprout so I need to research the Zinnia God/Goddess so I can do proper sacrifices and worship said God/Goddess all winter in hopes of better productivity next year.

Gardening's a bitch.

Aaahh, Freak Out!

Sunday post? Sunday and Saturday post? What the fuck?


View my profile on NaBloPoMo


Yeah. That's what the fuck. I succumb to peer pressure way too easily.

Giving Me the Courage and the Strength I Need

"Crap."

"What?"

"Do you realize we've been together for 11 years today?"

"Hmmm... first Saturday of November. Married for seven years in September. Yep. Our seven-eleven anniversary."

"Eleven years. Crap."

"Eleven years of dealing with your crazy."

"Eleven years of dealing with your hording issues."

"It's not like you deserve a medal for that, Laura."

"Oh, I know. I DESERVE A FUCKING FIVE FOOT TROPHY."

And We Began to Rock Steady, Steady Rockin' All Night Long

By now, you all should know the game. If you don't, feel free to read about my super awesome wittiness. Or obsessive compulsive problems. Tomaetoe, tomahtah.

Monday, October 01, 2007
Cuz We're Gonna Boogie Oogie Oogie 'till You Just Can't Boogie No More
A Taste of Honey, "Boogie Oogie Oogie" A Taste of Honey (1978)

Monday, October 01, 2007
They Don't Know Where and They Don't Know When
Arcade Fire, "Keep the Car Running" Neon Bible (2007)

Tuesday, October 02, 2007
When You're All Argumentative
Arctic Monkeys, "Mardy Bum" Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (2006)

Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Because You Have to Make This Life Liveable
Depeche Mode, "Strangelove" Music for the Masses (1987)

Friday, October 05, 2007
So I'm Just Kicking it, I'm Counting the Days, I Hardly Can Wait for Us to Hang Out
No Doubt, "Making Out" Rock Steady (2001)

Monday, October 08, 2007
Oh My Darling, Will You be Here Before I Sputter Out?
Eels, "Novocaine for the Soul" Beautiful Freak (1996)

Tuesday, October 09, 2007
The Mist Across the Window Hides the Lines, But Nothing Hides the Color of the Lights That Shines
Joe Jackson, "Stepping Out" Night and Day (1982)

Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Shining Like a Work of Art
Guster, "Satellite" Ganging Up On The Sun (2006)

Thursday, October 11, 2007
She Doesn't Like to Choose
The Cars, "Let's Go" Candy-0 (1979)

Monday, October 15, 2007
We All Need the Clowns to Make Us Smile
Journey, "Faithfully" Frontiers (1983)

Tuesday, October 16, 2007
And I've Been Waiting Such a Long Time for Today
Chicago, "Saturday in the Park" Chicago V (1972)

Wednesday, October 17, 2007
It's Been a Long Day, Always, Ain't That Right?
Matchbox Twenty, "Long Day" Yourself Or Someone Like You (1996)

Thursday, October 18, 2007
I Know I've Started to Think
Gary Numan, "Cars" The Pleasure Principle (1979)

Friday, October 19, 2007
Everytime You Go Away, You Take a Piece of Me With You
Paul Young, "Everytime You Go Away" The Secret of Association (1985)

Monday, October 22, 2007
Ah Ooooh, Got You Where I Want You (Yeah)
The Flys, "Got You Where I Want You" Disturbing Behavior Soundtrack (1998)

Tuesday, October 23, 2007
No Need to Whine Boy, Like a Wind Up Toy You Stutter at My Feet
Elastica, "Stutter" Elastica (1993)

Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Celebrate Good Times, Come On!
Kool & The Gang, "Celebration" Celebrate! (1980)

Friday, October 26, 2007
I'd Love to be the One to Disappoint You When I Don't Fall Down
Limp Bizkit, "Re-Arranged" Significant Other (1999)

Monday, October 29, 2007
Make-a One Man Weep, Make Another Man Sing
Huey Lewis & The News, "Power of Love" Back to the Future Soundtrack (1985)

Tuesday, October 30, 2007
And I Don't Know No Cool Lines
John Mellencamp, "Ain't Even Done With The Night" Nothin' Matters and What If It Did (1980)

Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I Saw a Werewolf Drinking a Pina Colada
Warren Zevon, "Werewolves of London" Excitable Boy (1978)

They Did the Mash, They Did the Monster Mash

Parties were... well, partied.


Goodie bags were made. (Yeah, for the whole fucking two kids that came. Two. Two. It's enough to make me cry.)


Tricks and treats were had. Well, treats only.


Griffin's pumpkin was carved.


As was Darwin's.


And in case there was any confusion about my favorite candy to give out...


What can I say? I must spread the love.