There are no bad owners, only bad dogs



A few thoughts on Halloween:

If you speed through Alamo Heights on the other 364 days, you're safe. On Halloween, your ass will get pulled over.

If you stay at work until it's late, you will be confused when you get home, forget that it's Halloween, and wonder why there are roaming bands of kids dressed as Johnny Human Torch wandering in your street.

If you stay at work until it's late, you get to eat all of the candy yourself. If a kid comes after the candy is gone in spite of the universally accepted signal of "go away" that is commonly known as "no porch light," that kid deserves to get a Hot Pocket or a frozen waffle. Or a baggie containing band-aids and Q-tips.

When I was a little kid, we used to greet an opened door with "Trick or Treat!" absolutely screamed at full volume. Nowadays, these lazy-ass short people just look at you and hold out their bag, with this resentful sneer on their faces. No talkee, no candy. That's the deal.

So there's this dude at work who works on the same project that I'm working on now, and until recently I liked him, thought he was a good guy, etc. Then, THEN, he went on a bidness trip with a lot of other people for some meetings that lasted several days, and, you probably see where this is going, he boinked this nasty, skanky girl, also employed by EduMart. This guy is married. The skank isn't. Now every time I talk to him, I just want to smack him really hard on the side of the head with a stapler or a 3-hole punch.

So me and my pirate cat are going to bed now.

Happy Halloween!

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