Hallowienie

Yesterday was the dullest Halloween I've ever had.

I don't blame it on the shitty weather, which reduced the number of participants. I blame it on my loss of social life here, after a five-year absence. For the first time in my life, I spent a Halloween at home handing out candy to trick-or-treaters. I suppose I could've still spent this Halloween doing some trick-or-treating myself, provided I keep a mask on and tell everyone I have hormone problems

Instead, it wasn't even a night of just lighting fireworks and blowing things up. I rememeber back in the first year when firecrackers were banned because some stupid kid blew his fingers off and decided to turn it into a crusade. Without Mighty Mites, that ended our response to the Treasure Troll fad. You know, those annoying little things with a hole in its butt perfectly wide enough to accomodate the end of your pencil, so you can watch it to the happy dance in the air while you write. But that hole is also perfectly wide enough to accomodate a firecracker, so you can watch it do the death dance in the air while you blow it up to little pieces.

Like guns, they should keep firecrackers legal, but they should make selling them to stupid people illegal. Hell, there are other things out there that are legal, but still shouldn't be sold to stupid people, like that book Sex for Dummies. Should stupid people be allowed to reproduce? Like the titles "legally retarded" and "legally insane", there should be legislation that is able to declare someone "legally stupid". Perhaps the only reason it hasn't been done yet is because every politician in Canada would be wearing that title if they pushed that bill.

So with the ban on firecrackers, we had to rely on our own resourcefulness to make things go boom. I recall these fireworks called Hummeroos (not to be confused with a certain kind of servicing you can obtain from under your desk). They look a bit like flares or really short roman candles, and come in packs of six or a dozen. You're supposed to stick them into the ground, light them, and they will emit this pink flame and a whistling noise. Not very exciting. We even tried lighting one and throwing it into the neighbor's yard and watching the pink streak whistle around from the other side of the fence. We had a good laugh, but it still didn't satisfy the destructive urge to detonate something in a hopefully controlled environment.

But then we learned from a "friend" that when you flatten a Humeroo with a hammer, you pack the gunpowder down, and what is initially a whistling flare essentially becomes a stick of TNT. Or a really big Mighty Mite/M80. These blow up BIG. We watched soda cups fly apart and soda cans bloom into pretty aluminum flowers. Hell, my brother just gets his kicks sticking them into a large unoccupied flower pot and watching the soil splash as if a land mine has been set off. If you plant a "modified" Hummeroo as it was intended, they also make big craters in the lawn, the perfect "trick" for someone who refuses to give out candy despite advertising a lit jack-o-lantern. Or you have the option of helping to correct their miscommunication by blowing up the jack-o-lantern altogether.

Musing upons such fond memories really made this Halloween depressing. This didn't keep me from wearing my costume, which was a bright orange inmate jumpsuit, complete with the words "Department of Corrections" on the back. You know, the kind that gets attention from the police, heheh. I even got the handcuffs stuck to one wrist (no, the handcuffs are strictly for the Halloween costume). Since none of my friends have seen this costume, I think I'll use it again next year.

So a bunch of kids at the door saw my costume and asked me why I went to jail. Suddenly, a smaller version of me dressed as Satan popped up on my right shoulder and urged me to reply, "I'm a child molester," just for the amusement of creeping them out. But then, the little common sense left in me recalled that the title of "child molester" is about as removable as a cattle brand, and the community doesn't treat kindly upon suspected child molesters. Even if I was able to clear things up and obtain full exhoneration, I would then be given the title of "legally stupid". Thus, I nixed Satan Me's suggestion and decided to follow Angel Me on my left shoulder, who promptly appeared to kick Satan Me's ass, by giving the kids the "cute" answer.

"You know those labels on your mattress that says "DO NOT REMOVE"? Well, I removed it."

That was the best answer I could come up with that wouldn't creep out the kids, or the parents with them. Damn, I wish I could be a high-school teenager again. Not only to be able to partake in any of the Halloween activities without criticism, but also to be able to date some of the really cute girls that stopped at my door.

I should be "legally stupid" for spending Halloween like this.

Our neighbors showing off with their decorations.
Without those oversized toys, they've got nothing!