Monday, October 31, 2011


What gives you the right? What gives you the idea you can knock on my door and expect anything at all? Greedy little shits. Think you can show up in your plastic little tutus and shove a plastic pumpkin or some trashy pillowcase in my face and expect me to give a shit. And you old ones! Taller than some parents! You've got to be fucking kidding. Go get kidnapped in a park, do drugs, I don't care, just don't show up at my stoop, asking for candy like some three-year old. No night of the year makes it alright for a body to be busting into someone's private place. This gate has a meaning, you ever heard of semiotics? It means get the hell off my property. Trick or treat? Smell my feet? I'm not showing you tricks and these treats are for me, fuck off. That means you, you little ninja shit. I break feet. I know you smell my candy and it's torturing you but really, it's not for you, not tonight. My lights are off. Get the hell out of here. I don't have any cobwebs, scarecrows, witches on my lawn, I don't have pumpkins and I smashed all my neighbors this morning, my lights are off. My lights are off. I can't believe you shitheads are still showing up. This candy's for me. Stop standing there on my stoop like some creep. My lights are off, I've got a gate, I've got an alarm system, I've got myself and chocolate and I don't need anybody, least of all a shithead little kid like you, stop knocking on my door, please stop knocking, goddamnit I just want to eat these Halloween treats alone, in peace, in quiet, by myself, I don't want to share, not tonight.

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