The Halloween of 1993 was probably the last time I went trick-or-treating. I think.
I would have been fourteen (and a high school freshman), so I might be a year off, but for the sake of this post (and the fact that it doesn't matter in the least), let's just go with it.
I wore a San Jose Sharks jersey (um, it was '93 - the Sharks teal road jersey was issued to wannabe a-holes by the federal government) and a glow-in-the-dark Jason Voorhees mask. If it had come in a package, once could assume it would have been titled murderous hockey player and/or timid dickbag desperate for Skittles. Either way, I knew right away, from the slight frowns of the candy-givers, that I had made a huge mistake. Simply put?
I was too old to be participating in this annual tradition.
Which brings us to Hocus Pocus, yet another Halloween-related activity that I shouldn't have partaken in. You'd think I'd have learned something in the ensuing quarter century since 1993, but here I am, still ruining a perfectly good holiday with a bad decision.
In my defense, at least this time I wasn't an awkward virgin, knocking my sweaty hands on the doors of my apathetic Hawaiian neighbors. Instead, I was an awkward adult, gathering my children around the television, insisting they watch this 'classic' with me and my wife. I'm emphasizing they're mine, my kids, just so we can be clear that unlike that kid back in 1993, the 2018 model of m.brown has had sex. More than once, in fact.
Blogger Guy, what the f--k? No one needs to know all that. Oh, but they do Italicized Voice of Reason, because in a silly kids' movie about Halloween, whether or not the main character has ever gone for a ride on the wild bologna pony is paramount. Trust me - it matters. So much so, in fact, we should probably talk about his virginity as much as possible. Just so the little ones can really understand that having sex is like, super important, if witches be all up in your shit.
I would have been fourteen (and a high school freshman), so I might be a year off, but for the sake of this post (and the fact that it doesn't matter in the least), let's just go with it.
I wore a San Jose Sharks jersey (um, it was '93 - the Sharks teal road jersey was issued to wannabe a-holes by the federal government) and a glow-in-the-dark Jason Voorhees mask. If it had come in a package, once could assume it would have been titled murderous hockey player and/or timid dickbag desperate for Skittles. Either way, I knew right away, from the slight frowns of the candy-givers, that I had made a huge mistake. Simply put?
I was too old to be participating in this annual tradition.
In my defense, at least this time I wasn't an awkward virgin, knocking my sweaty hands on the doors of my apathetic Hawaiian neighbors. Instead, I was an awkward adult, gathering my children around the television, insisting they watch this 'classic' with me and my wife. I'm emphasizing they're mine, my kids, just so we can be clear that unlike that kid back in 1993, the 2018 model of m.brown has had sex. More than once, in fact.
Blogger Guy, what the f--k? No one needs to know all that. Oh, but they do Italicized Voice of Reason, because in a silly kids' movie about Halloween, whether or not the main character has ever gone for a ride on the wild bologna pony is paramount. Trust me - it matters. So much so, in fact, we should probably talk about his virginity as much as possible. Just so the little ones can really understand that having sex is like, super important, if witches be all up in your shit.
