Scribble.
I need to put this scribble here.
It’s a pointless scribble. It contains no hidden messages. It’s literally just a scribble.
I have some Dino Drac hangups that I want to nip in the bud. I just edited this post to remove an explanation of those hangups, because they’re not really relevant to anyone but me. Just know that this scribble is a necessary step.
So, say hi to Mr. Scribble. He’s a quiet scribble, who loves talk radio.
Mars Halloween Candy Pails!
I doubt that more than three of you remember them, but I don’t care. These candy pails, distributed by Mars back in ’89, meant the world to me. Even today, I look at them and see everything good about Halloween.
I can’t remember the specifics of the promotion, but it went something like this: Buy a bag of fun-sized Snickers (or Milky Way, or 3 Musketeers), and you’d go home with one of these glorious buckets. (In all likelihood, you had to buy three or more bags, but the details pale in importance to the end result: MONSTA BUCKETS.)
We’ve all reminisced about McDonald’s famous McBoo pails, and though they deserved every bit of our affections, these were an even cooler spin on the same idea. With pop-off lids and little ropey handles, kids trolled the neighborhood on Halloween night, stuffing their tricks and treats into eleven-inch plastic ghosts with Snickers stickers on them. Bottle that shit, because it was concentrated awesomesauce. Read More…
Madd Matt Reviews Halloween Grow Capsules.
I don’t know if I’ve led a life worth living, but someday, when there’s nothing left to lose, I’ll have a great story to tell.
FYI: Madd Matt was wrong on a few counts in this video. Technically, Leviathan isn’t from a moon of Saturn, or Jupiter. Leviathan is from Hell.
Sky Bar’s Zombie Food!
It was a dark and stormy night.
Actually, it was a clear and sunny afternoon. But it felt like night, thanks to a dark inner glow created in an ancient copy of Adobe Photoshop. And because ZOMBIES.
One of the zombies bore a striking resemblance to Michael Jackson. Too close to be a coincidence. Whether he was the real deal or a mere imitator, it stood to reason that a zombie who dressed like this would prefer to be called “Michael.”
Michael wasn’t your typical zombie. He thought differently. He ate brains, but he had one of his own, too. Michael knew that the key to zombie survival lied in peaceful coexistence with those delicious humans.
Their flesh was tasty, sure. But they had guns and tanks. Ultimately, they’d never lose the war.
“No,” Michael thought. “I must become friends with the humans.” He knew it was a long shot, and even by his own admission, “friends” just meant that he wouldn’t try to bite them. He hoped, in return, that the humans would shy away from blowing his head off.
Of course, zombies have to eat something. Attacking humans was never an act of malice. They were just trying to survive. If his plan had any chance of success, he’d need to find substitute sustenance.
“Substitute sustenance,” Michael said, repeating his thoughts aloud. “A pleasant-sounding phrase. I’ll use it in the press release.” Read More…