Nearing the end of October

Let's test and see just how psychotic we might be... stare into my eyes... arfe the pictures spinning?

"Yes."

You are crazy. Surpise.

Boy, Howdy. In a week, it'll be Halloween.

Have I let you know my felings towards this non-holiday?

I HATE IT.

Four years of working on Castro Street in San Franscisco in the late 70s galvanized this take on that - it got uglier and more mean spirited yearly. Yes, I hate the day, yet as a kid, I practically lived for it, planning sometimes months in advance. with numerous trips to Boston to get the best grease paint and whatnot to insure a winning (although never in a costume competition until much later in life, like 1991 0 and winning, thank you, the First FUCK! Hallowenn Bizarre Party in L.A.) costume. whew. But oh how I loved it. Candy. Free candy. Gimme.

Steve Lipofsky and I were transfixed with it all for some time. I have a creepy idea that we went door-to-door until high school age, preoceeding to get one neighbor's door slammed in our faces for being "too old." Well.

And most of Southern California is burnt to a smokey crisp. I am glad to not be there, sad to not be there, Not There. Period. Burnt. To a crisp.