From The State's 43rd Annual Halloween Special
"Hi. You know, sometimes with all this holiday hustle and bustle, it can be easy to forget the true meaning of Halloween. We observe Halloween to celebrate the birth of Christ. And in celebration of his birth, many traditions have been handed down through the years. The hiding of the eggs. The annual pilgrimage to Mecca. Halloween is a day to bring your daughter to work. Or your secretary. And it's the biggest shopping day of the year! But most of all, Halloween is a time for young people to gather together spreading holiday cheer by lighting bags of their own crap on fire, ringing the doorbell, and running away. So America, Happy Halloween, or as we like to call it, Chanukah.
Have a scary Chanukah!"
I put that on my blog last year. And I will next year too. So get used to it.
Happy Halloweeeeeeeen!
October 30, 2005
Have A Scaaaaary Chanukah - Again!
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10 comments:
What a scary cow that looks like a baby! With the prettiest little calf eyes ever. I told your brother-in-law that Jack was going to be a lion, and he expressed concern over whether that lion would try to eat this little baby calf. Vicious and terrible lion!
Ailsie the Cow!
Apants, you didn't mention you were related to the Bordens.
He WAS a vicious and terrible lion. With a little bit of a cold. I said, "jack, are you sick?" and he said "No!!! I am not sick!!! I just have a little bit of a cold." That was on halloween. He's better now. He chased me around and I slapped him on the nose and said "Why don't you pick on somebody your own size." And he said, " I am not the cowardly lion!"
Nothing cowardly about that lion! But I'm proud of you for standing up to him. Why can't you make Jack stay for Thanksgiving? We must have some Irish mobster relatives somewhere who could help everyone come to an understanding. Or at least get Marigold to come.
Hey, I invited marigold. She declined. I wonder why, crazy stalker.
I'm so over Marigold.
Oh, please. As if you could ever really be over me. I've got a whole club of "over me"s that cry to each other at their weekly support group. And they drink, too. And drive. Drink, drive and cry. And overeat.
Fatties.
Come to Thanksgiving and I'll PROVE how over you I am. I'll totally ignore you. And I won't give you the portrait I've made of you in mosaic tile. It's 10' x 12'. And it says, in very small tile-print: "It's so over." Otherwise it's very flattering.
Whatever, Fatty.
It's pregnancy weight! I swear. Funny that I should read this right after eating my brownie and Coca-Cola lunch.
At least I'm not a cow.
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