Post Halloween Depression, Tree House II Progress and Other Stuff!

Look, we even had a kid to pop out and go "BOO!"

I was severely disappointed by Halloween.  I mean we put out gravestones.  We put up 12 spiders with googly eyes.  We did purple Halloween lights along the walkway.  We had a fog machine.  Come on.  I had a boatload of candy.  (The good kind, too.  No generic crap.  No bubble gum.  Twix, Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, and Butterfingers were examples.  We didn't have candy.  None of that pussy candy from the Dollar Store.  We had CANDY!)

For all of this, we had one stinking set of trick or treaters.  (Technically there were four of them, but they were all together so I can say it was one group.  Haha.  I get to enhance my own bitching.  That's the whole reason I started blogging.)  (I should have dumped the whole bucket of treats in their bags.  As it was I gave them four candy bars each plus the little skull and spider rings, Cressy wanted to give out.  One of the little girls was quick to point out that she had not received a spider ring, which I rapidly corrected.)  ("Yo, bee-yotch.  I did not get a spider ring.  I desire a spider ring.  You will put a spider ring in my bag.  Now.")  (She didn't really say that, but she was thinking it.  I could tell.)

See.  Our candy was so cool it talked.

Upon HIM's return from taking our daughter trick or treating it was related the reason why no one was trick or treating in the loop.  (HIM was riding the wave of gleefulness from having scared the crud out of a four year old, who undoubtedly is still having nightmares about the thing with the glowing eyes.)

HIM is the one with the glowy eyes
not the secretary behind the two people
in costumes.

It was explained that all the houses at the beginning of our loop did not have their lights on.  Those stingy, non-Halloween-having twatwaffles.  (Twatwaffle is my latest swear word.  I am sworn to use it at least five times in a daily course.  I may be challenged but I am determined.)  Therefore no one was coming up the stupid hill.  (Also I'm thinking small children naturally will choose the downhill course.  You know the course of least resistance.)

Okay, does anyone remember sneaking a peek at Burt Reynolds' junk
when he posed nekkid in Cosmo a million years ago?
Am I comparing chocolate to Burt Reynolds?
No, but the pose was similar.
(I thought Burt would have a huge willie and
I was disappointed.  What did I know I was about eight
years old.)  (And btw, I just googled the date
on that Burt nekkid shot and he wasn't really
nekkid, so what was I thinking?  I was
thinking that his hand between his legs shouldn't
really cover his junk.  Upon what did my eight -year-old brain
base this?  I do not know.)

I suppose this is somewhat ironic.  Little children do not want to exercise to get their quota of chocolate booty.  Hell, adults don't want to get exercise to get their quota of booty.  (Try putting a bar at the top of a steep flight of steps and see how many customers you get.)

In other news Tree House II is making progress.  It has a roof.  The roof has been tar papered.  Tomorrow, shingles will be applied.  Then we're going with walls, a door, trim, and then painting it.  Then we'll get to the fence around the structure so Cressy doesn't fall off and break her little neck.

The blue thing is a tarp not the actual roof.

So far the neighbors have been doing an inordinate amount of wandering into their side yard to see what we're doing.  Peering through the bushes and just hanging out in an area they don't normally hang out in seems sort of obvious to me, but hey, they're curious and clearly want to know if they should call the city zoning department again.  They remind me of Gollum from The Lord of the Rings.  They probably have a wide arrangement of telescopes, too.

So anyway, one day I might get along with my neighbors.