Halloween: How to freak out your neighbors next year

 

Ahhhh Halloween, the holiday embodies hedonism in all its glory.  Trick-or-Treaters literally threaten to fuck up strangers if they don’t receive their fair share of delicious candy.  How can anyone not love such an awesome Holiday?!  Sadly, my apartment complex does not see many trick-or-treaters – until three years ago.  After four years without a single zombie or vampire, imagine my surprise when some kids actually showed up.  Unfortunately, I was ill-prepared and lacking generic candy.  As a result, the kids ended up taking away Godiva and Lindt Bon Bons.  While this selection might have pleased their parents, the kids were less than impressed.

As a result of this catastrophe, I stocked up the next year.  I even got home early so none of the trick-or-treaters would miss out on the haul!  Alas, it was not to be.  Fun Fact: If you ever want to REALLY creep out your neighbors, try doing the following:

1)      Start watching horror movies at a fairly high volume in your dimly lit apartment.  No one will know that the screams are actually coming from a TV!

2)      Try cooking something that requires significant preparation.  Bring your cutting board into the living room so you can watch movies while you prep.  Make sure that your table is lower than the window level – this ensures that anyone looking into your apartment can only see you wielding an excessively large knife and will have no idea what you are actually chopping.

3)      After an hour with no trick-or-treaters, become concerned that no one knows you have candy.  Solve this problem by creating several signs on printer paper that read “Free Candy in Apt __”  or “Knock for Candy!”  Include drawings of “ghosts” that actually look like small corpses and tape signs to all the entrance doors in your apartment building.

4)      Test drive your new Steampunk Aviatior goggles while chopping.  Overzealously wave at any trick-or-treaters you see in the parking lot.

5)      Become confused when those trick-or-treaters run away as fast as they can.

 

Eventually realize that while you think you look like this:

 

Hey there!  Have some candy!

Hey there! Have some candy!

 

 

You actually look like this:

 

Annnnnd we're in Hell with a goggle wearing serial killer....

Annnnnd we’re in Hell with a goggle wearing serial killer….

 

 

Have your boyfriend confirm that you are in fact, terrorizing the townsfolk.  Feel a little bit better when he pity trick-or-treats you and eats your terror candy.

 

That time I went to a Nubian Goat Show

I love fairs and agricultural events, and I’m getting really excited about hitting up the Topsfield Fair this weekend! I’ve been before and it was pretty rad. Don’t worry, I will be posting about it next week. Today’s post is actually about one of those times that an event isn’t quite as fantastic as you think it might be.

Goats are awesome. They’re incredibly adorable and, for some reason, frequently associated with the Devil. Yeah – that’s a little weird, but some goats faint as a defense mechanism! How can you not love that!? Also, their milk makes for incredibly delicious cheese.

Given my enthusiasm for all things goat-related, you can be sure that I was super stoked when I saw the advertisement for a Nubian Goat Show back in 2011. I immediately cancelled all prior engagements, and invited my nearest and dearest. Strangely enough, no one seemed interested. I was envisioning a crazy stunt show with highly trained African goats jumping through flaming hoops, performing gymnastics, maybe even creating goat pyramids. I was basically imagining the cast of Bring it On, but with fur and cloven hooves.

Like this, but with goats instead of cheerleaders.

Like this, but with goats instead of cheerleaders.

 

After assuring everyone that they were “totally missing out on epic awesomeness,” I made the hour plus drive to the Lancaster fairgrounds. I expected Cirque de Soleil. What I got was a dilapidated shed in the middle of giant field, filled with 35 goats and ten people. No flaming hoops or goat gymnastics. Needless to say, the pyramid was also a bust.

Although my dreams were shattered, I forged ahead. After driving over an hour to the middle of nowhere, I was going to see some freakin’ goats. I sauntered over to the shed area and pretended to fit in. Unfortunately, my ruse fell flat. It’s hard to hide in a crowd when you are one of eleven people.

A nice woman meandered over and inquired if any of the goats belonged to me. For some inexplicable reason, I responded by saying, “Nope. I just really like goats.” “I see…” said the woman, as she edged away. It dawned on me that maybe she interpreted my response to mean that I really liked goats. After briefly debating the merits of chasing after a stranger and assuring them that I did not partake in bestiality, I took this as a sign and called it a day.

And that was the Nubian Goat Show of doom; an event where my expectations were infinitely cooler than what reality had to offer. Luckily, the Topsfield Fair will be badass. They probably won’t have flaming hoops, but I know for a fact that they have a pig race and chickens with fuzzy feet. And yes, the fair also has goats.

You cannot escape me....  I am far too adorable.

You cannot escape me…. I am far too adorable.