Generation WTF

Hell-o-ween

Wow. I guess that header might be a tad strong; though, on pondering further, perhaps it is just right.

This year’s Halloween was interesting. As usual, I completely misjudged how much candy we were going to need, making my mad scramble to the local retailer somewhat unnecessary (if you’re in the vicinity, drop by my desk and you can have a bucketful of candy).

I have no idea what the deal is, given how many kids are at the local school, but the numbers were just not there this year. Small groups of kids would come and go, but nowhere near the same amount as years previous. There was also a conspicuous lack of teenagers with crappy costumes this year. I guess that’s sort of a blessing; but to be honest, I could have used their pillowcases as a way to get rid of the metric ton of sugar that remains (that will eventually find its way onto my frame as gobs of fat).
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Jumping to Conclusions

Burned Unit

A few of my friends and I will (occasionally) take a perfectly innocent phrase in one of our conversations and turn it on it’s ear with some good ol’ innuendo (in YOU end oh). The following convo was with a friend of mine, to whom I loaned the season 1 DVD set of Burn Notice



Booya! Click to make bigger (that’s what she said).


Of course, later on I thought about it – and it could have easily been referring to some kind of medical show. Ah well. Can’t win ’em all, right?