Damn Trick-or-Treats...THE GAMES ON!

Yes, today is Halloween.  My brother and sister-in-law have taken my adorable niece over to her aunts house, a better neighborhood (aka rich people candy), to trick-or-treat.  This leaves me here, in their house, to make sure the little chil'uns get their candy and don't grow up to egg the house.  It also occurs to me that there is a far more important reason for today to exist...today is football sunday.  I started to think to myself, "this isn't fair...I'm going to have to get up every 10 minutes to dole Starburst to little brats.  I'll probably miss half the games!".  Sometime in the future Halloween will, once again, fall on a Sunday.  I vow to never let this kinda of football-related inustice happen again, and because I'm a good guy, I will share with you the top ten ways to make sure nobody knocks on your door on Halloween ever again.

10:     Completely forget to button your fly/close your robe.  This will scare the children.  Fair warning: Depending on how many stay-at-home moms are in your neighborhood, this may attract unwanted cougars.

9:       Be the dick on the block that hands out pennies.  I always hated that dick.  Never went to that house.

Agador

8:       Dress like Agodor  from the movie The Birdcage.  This will not only frighten the children, but will drive any local fathers away as well.  They don't want to be seen with no puffta!  Fair Warning: This may or may not work in San Francisco, the west village in Manhattan, Cape Cod, Airport bathrooms and Republican congressional offices.

7:       Answer the door blackout drunk with a bottle of whiskey sticking out of your pocket.

6:       One by one turn to each trick-or-treater and say, and who are you supposed to be...OJ Simpson?

5:       When they ring your doorbell, open the door in 1820's English garb and start singing Oh Holy Night...that'll throw the little rejects for a loop.  It'll also get them asking their parents about Christmas very early.  The parents will never let them come back.

4:       Put a sign up on the front door that says please go to the back door.  On the back door put up a sign that says please go to the front door.  Tape the reaction...put it on youtube.

3:       Put aluminum siding over your front door.

2:       It's simple really.  Purposefully buy pre-packaged candy, and then take it out of the package and give it to the kids.  Loudly explain to the parents you don't f*&#ing care what your local newscaster says...candy is better out of the package.

1:       And the number 1 thing you can do to make sure trick-or-treaters don't return to your house ever again: Three words: Fruit Stripe Gum.

The Great Pumpkin

Sadly, due to several things including the economy, bad choices, bad luck, bad people, and sheer ineptitude...I currently reside at my brothers house in Pennsylvania instead of where I should be, in my apartment in New York City.  This situation brings with it lots of reasons for concern, but for the purpose of this post, I will discuss it's effect on Halloween.  I WILL NOT HAVE A HALLOWEEN!  This is disappointing as I have grown to love Halloween.

Bridget, my first dog

Years ago, aka pre-college in my former life as a shy, quiet, reserved, awkward teenager...I did not like Halloween....at all.  No, this wasn't my Christine O'Donnell-esque stance against the satanic (it is actually pagan, Christine associates pagan with satanic, which isn't true) worship of the underworld.  It's must more selfish than that.  When I was much younger my first dog, Bridget, died on Halloween.  Later on, while rebelling against the man, my parents, the government and Mr. Belding, I was almost arrested but let off with a ticket on Halloween for being a degenerate with some eggs.  After that I went ahead and disavowed Halloween straight through college.  But then something happened.  Perhaps, it was growing up or maturing to the point of getting over youthful transgressions and hardships.  Maybe, I regained my childish love affair with dressing up and asking for treats.  Even more likely, it was the sheer level of slutitude that roamed the street of my college town on what became for me, the greatest of holidays.

Gladiator - 2006

I began to celebrate, my junior and senior year, by simply attending parties and sitting back and enjoying the view.  It wasn't until the year after my senior year of college that I began dressing up and taking part in the revelry.  In 2006 I was Gladiator because people tell me I look like Russell Crowe.  This involved wearing a skirt and tights.  I ended up walking home from downtown Albany, about a 45 minute walk in the freezing cold...in a skirt.  Then I moved back to New York City and saw what NYC Halloween was, and it was wonderous.  I remember 2007, when I was Captain Jack Sparrow and I ended up making out with my friends cousin who was visiting from Israel for the week.  I remember 2008 and 2009 when I was Wolverine and the Dick in a Box guy respectively.  I only ended up making it with my then girlfriend those nights, but they were no less fun.  Halloween is a wonderful day where women are free to be as slutty as they wish, and men can be as offensive, sexist, racist, and generally inappropriate as their hearts desire.

Captain Jack Sparrow - 2007
Note the eye shadow, it's all in the detail.

This year, I will not be taking part.  I am flat broke, 100 miles away without transportation and don't have a costume.  It will be a Halloween of taking my 3.5 year old niece trick-or-treating.  NOT the way a 26 year old is supposed to spend their Halloween.  But I will take it for what it is and attempt to make Halloween for my niece (she'll be Cinderella...classic), as fun for her as NYC would have been for me.  I will be back in NYC next year...and I will celebrate twice as hard to make up for this year.  So watch out for me, and if you have any idea for my costume...feel free to pass them along.

Dick in a Box - 2009
What you can't see is my douchey chinstrap
beard (real) and gold figaro chain.

That's not a motto, that's just you saying a bunch of things

So, here I am...two and a half years later, much worse for the wear (ware?), and restarting my blog. It went through a bit of a transformation. You see, my blog is like a teenager. It has pimples and whines a lot. It sneaks beers when it knows it's not supposed to. And it goes through identity issues.

First, it was a personal blog...a diary of sorts. It would bitch about not being one of the cool kids and how girls just didn't like him. The Tree would complain that girl who it really liked wouldn't kiss him no matter how nice he was or how often he consoled her after the popular kids dumped her. Then came the 2008 election. The Tree felt a purpose for the first time. It would be a......POLITICS BLOG! The Tree went all D.C. on your asses. It read the likes of Ezra Klein and Andrew Sullivan. It wore obnoxious berets and would talk down to other, less serious "immature" blogs. HA! it would exclaim to those little namby-pamby diary blogs..."how 2007" the Tree would say in the most condescending of tones. Then the Tree got tired. It had other things to do. The Tree finally landed the girl. It was finishing up with "high school". The Tree got too cool for blogging. It was going to "college" and was leaving everything behind. Well...now the Tree is back. The girl is gone, "college" is over and life has taught him a few lessons. So the Tree returns to its roots (see what I did there?), and is being re-blorn (not a typo) as a personal blog once more.

So here I go, again on my own (yup, Whitesnake). It's more for me than you, so if you don't read or don't care, that's fine. Feel free to comment, I will likely respond. Hope to hear from you though. And be gentle as I reacclimate myself to postings and such.

Oh, and please, as always...send me scotch.