Showing posts with label Tits. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tits. Show all posts

Monday, October 31, 2011

Halloween 2012 (and beyond!)

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays.  Oddly, I was never that big on candy when I was little but I did always like to host Halloween parties and dress up in fancy clothing.  Maybe I was gay.

Or maybe I just liked to have Halloween swimming parties at my Godparent's house.  Don and Janice had a butt-kicking indoor pool and lived in a fairly well-off section of the west suburbs.  As such, my friends and I could roam the streets of Glen Ellyn scoring free chocolate and return back to the house to consume many, many Little Caesar's "Pizza Pizza" combos and try to drown each other in a pool that was always heated just a bit hotter than it needed to be.  Then we'd eat the shit out of our big bags of candy and, I guess, throw up somewhere.

As Don was a World War II veteran, I often dressed up on Halloween as an "Army Guy".  One year, Don found an actual (hollowed out, of course) WWII-era grenade at an army surplus store and bought it for my inevitable costume.  I gleefully attached it to my army guy belt and I can still remember that the pineapple part of the grenade kept unscrewing as my fellow candy hunters and I dashed around Don's neighborhood.  I was sad, upon returning to the McCarron homestead, to find that the only part of the grenade that was still clipped to my belt was the pin and trigger mechanism...which meant that some unsuspecting neighbor went outside the next day for the morning newspaper and probably freaked the hell out and called a bomb squad, all because Don thought it would be cool to get me an actual god-damned grenade to add that special touch of realism to my army get-up.  Good times.

Over the years, Halloween went from an innocent exorcise in calorie consumption to the more adult themed Halloween my generation has grown accustomed to.  Girls pour themselves into sexy outfits and seem to be in some sort of erotic competition to see who could show the most cleavage without ending up hand-cuffed in the back of a squad car for indecent exposure.  It really is "Straight Pride Day" and I welcomed this transition with open arms and groping hands.  In my years leading up to meeting my gloriously gorgeous wife, Halloween was my favorite bar night of the year, if only for the eye candy.  Really, if a single dude can't hook up on Halloween, it's because he's already passed out due to the Jagermeister shots the chesty bartender/French Maid was feeding him all night. 

Now that I am married, I've come full circle on Halloween.  While I still fully respect a woman's right to turn me on, I don't feel the need to go out every Halloween and try to make out with a girl that won't be slutty again until next October 31st.  Krishni appreciates this.  I can't imagine Krishni and I will do much tonight--other than pass out some candy in my hood--but that's ok.  We spent Saturday night having some wine at home and watching "American Horror Story".  That was spooky enough.  And then yesterday we made our way out to "Boo!  At the Zoo!" to spend some time with my nieces and nephews and sisters and brothers-in-law at the Brookfield Zoo.  Krishni and I dressed up as Pirates (typically, we like to be a bit more clever in our costumes but we're poor and we wanted to be something the kids could recognize...that eliminated anything "ironic" or "slutty" from our cache of costume ideas) and the kids were dressed as the Devil, Jango Fett, a princess and the worlds cutest Yoda:


This may be a bit sentimental but I had more fun playing with the kids in our costumes yesterday than I probably had at any bar or party during my drunken Halloween days.  Except for maybe that one Devo party at the Sigma Nu house, like, 12 years ago.  Ho-boy.  That was a good time.  Christ, that night...

I'm sorry.  I lost my train of thought there.  Anyhow, I'm looking forward to "Mike Jacklich Halloween Incarnation III".  Krishni and I will pass out candy to kids, play with my nieces and nephews dressed as Starwars guys and, of course, we'll dress up ourselves.  Never fear; I won't go totally boring on  you.  I'm sure I'll find myself at a party or bar at some point on Hallows-Eve-future and if Krishni and I ever have a kid--god forbid--I imagine I will have a little fun with that, too. 


I may be sentimental, after all, but I'm still an asshole.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

And then the McRib went right through me...

There was an early-ish episode of The Simpsons where Homer buys stock in "pumpkins" right before Halloween.  In typical Homer Simpson fashion, he holds onto the stock far to long and ends up taking such a beating that he has to borrow money from Patty and Selma to keep the family afloat.  As far as Simpsons episodes go, it was ok, I guess.  However, since I don't understand finance at all, it did make me wonder things like "What if I bought stock in a company that produces fake snow in, like, October and sold a few days before Christmas?" or "What if I invest in Astroglide the moment I hear that Scarlett Johansson has a nude scene in the latest Bond movie?"

Yowza.

I realize this is a totally simplistic view of Wall Street--in fact, right now my banker buddy Brad is either giggling at my financial stupidity or his eyes have not yet moved from the rack above--but anticipating the next market and product upturn is sorta what it's all about to the individual investor.

Which brings me to why I was thinking about all this in the first place:  It can only help to invest in Charmin when the McRib returns every year, right?

"Lets see, that's five, six, yep, seven rolls.  One for each McRib I just ate."

That bear above?  It might as well have been me a few years ago.  Remember, I am the guy that once at 7 McRibs in 36 hours.  I'm totally not kidding: 

Here's proof.  Disgusting, disgusting proof.  

You can't quite read the full date up there but it reads "November 03 '06 (Fri) 12:40pm".  What were you doing on November 4th, 2006?  I bet you can't remember.  I, however, can.  The day following the ultimate McRib experience, I suffered through the worst hangover of my life.  Seriously.  I called in sick to work and everything.

Now, thinking I can handle 7 McRibs in 36 hours is the definition of hubris.  I am able to eat an astonishing amount of shit--even chicken long past it expiration date--without suffering any of the negative repercussions normally associated with such a stupid activity.  Krishni is kind of amazed by it.  But maybe I'm getting older and my insides have had just about enough of me pushing them around. 

I had a couple of McRibs today and wow, my intestines are unhappy with my luncheon decision.  I won't disgust you with the details but it was unpleasant.  Actually, I will give you one detail.  For whatever reason, the guy in the bathroom stall next to me was taking pictures on his phone.  I kept hearing the distinctive fake camera shutter noise they give phones now so Asian guys can't take upskirt photos on the bus without being noticed.  What could he have been taking pictures of?  What's that about?

Anyhoo, the point is I think I cured my need for the McRib for another year.  But I know that next year, I'll see the commercials and I'll get excited again.  I'll completely forget the pain this little bastard causes, I'll walk in to my local McDonalds with a big smile on my face, order two McRibs and devour them with glee.  I'll never learn.

I have seen the future, and it is delicious and fraught with pain.