EVERYBODY DRESSED LIKE A SANDWORM!

The first rain of the season seems to do things to people's heads. As your social media feeds will show you. Someone you thought to be a stable individual is drinking wine during daylight, someone else posted a photo of himself in seventies clothes (loud colours in rayon, wide lapels and cuffs), and a third person keeps waffling on about pumpkin spice being such a perfect taste that it's a darn shame it isn't available year-round.

As you would expect, I have different things on my mind. Halloween. What will the freaks do out on Polk Street this year if it rains? Will they still be greased and naked? Or are they going to be naked under a heavy layer of rain-proof outer wear? Festive orange tarps?
Lord knows I don't want them inside. Indoor nudity is pointless.
Oh, and there really isn't enough room.
The cat would object.


Last year because of the pandemic, festivities were extremely limited. The despair was palpable. If this year rain puts a damper on things, next year will be phenomenal.


The time is right, I feel, for pumpkin spice flavoured martinis.
Pumpkin spice Fireball, and Pumpkin spice tequila.
Plus pumpkin spice everything else.
Pumpkin Jaegie.

Nothing cures depression for the average American quite as well as getting squiffo. Which is something I encourage. Having depressed freaks all around me is not a good feeling.
A distinct downer. Perhaps you can understand why I'm not very social.

If you are going to be an idiot, be drunk.

And if you're drunk, be naked.

It's the American way.

Pumpkin spice.



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