Wednesday, October 22, 2008


Continuing on with the Halloween ABC's of the Gashlycrumb Tinies:

T is for Titus who flew into bits.


T is also for tree.

You know, about a month ago I was all sorts of crazy cuckoo for fall. But at this point of the season when the leaves are almost all off the trees and you have to warm up your car in the mornings, I can say I'm officially over it. It's been great and all, but I say GOOD DAY SIR. I forgot about all the crap parts of the season: carving pumpkins seems like super fun, but you forget about the actual gutting-out of the innards of the pumpkin and remind me again, why was this fun? And hot diggity, the leaves sure are purdy to look at when they change color and all, but then they fall off and rot and make your sinuses a very unhappy and frightening place for the next few months until the snow comes and I can bitch about how much snow sucks and I wish it was still Autumn. See how the mind of a grumpy girl works?

(This is what every inch of my yard looks like and the product of my migraine and sneezing doom. Guess who gets to rake it? And by "rake it" I mean do absolutely nothing.)


In fact, I think the makers of generic Claritin should put me on their annual Christmas card mailing list, to thank me for the buckets-o-cash I've thrown their way for these damn leaf mold allergies. And you know the Very Important Claritin Moguls' wives are all the Betty Crocker housewife types who send out those annoying family picture Xmas cards, the ones where The Perfect Family wear matching green turtlenecks and oversized sweaters with bells and light-up trees on them and go to JC Penney to have their retarded perma-smile faces captured on film to nauseate their friends and family, complete with a snowy winterland scene backdrop. And if you're really lucky you'll get a typed note about The Perfect Family and all their minute and meaningless "accomplishments" over the past year, thinking that the card recipients really care that Timmy is taking piano lessons and Bob scored a perfect game of golf when in reality no one gives a flying rat's ass and in a few years you'll find the Perfect Family's card thrown into a box of random loose pictures and no one will remember who they are or who they're related to. I think the Generic Claritin Big Cheeses owe me that much.

Welcome to the Poconos! Come see Autumn in it's splendor.


* "Thriller" by Michael Jackson.

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