gullybogan

Dear Reader,

Princess and me went to Aldi and bought almost fifty bucks’ worth of Halloween candy, right? Based on the reasonable belief that we were about to be inundated with hobgoblins and subterranean ne’er-do-wells.

We carefully chose the lollies so that there were no nuts that would kill some hobgoblin with anaphylaxis issues, and no unwrapped sugary treats that could harbour needles or poisons.

We were very considerate Halloween citizens.

Know how many hobgoblins we were visited by?

Four.

All in one hit, at about nine o’clock at night.

Normally Princess doles out the loot, to stop the kids gorging themselves inappropriately, or to stop the teenagers in the sexy nurse costumes taking all the good bits and leaving nothing of any worth for the primary schoolers wrapped in toilet paper.

But last night she just let the kids help themselves.

It was underwhelming.

And then, as the kids were leaving, one of them ran into Neville, our concrete Aborigine statue, in the dark, and nearly broke her hobgoblin neck.

Terrific.

So then we were left with a shitload of Halloween treats and no-one to take them.

“Maybe i could go around to people’s houses,” i offered, “And knock on the door and ask if they have any children who’d like some lollies…”

Princess didn’t think that was such a good idea.

A little later in the night, some drunk teenagers wandered down the street, suggesting to the suburb in a dull roar that something about fucking chocolate, and something else about fucking something else.

I was going to run out to them and offer them some Halloween cheer in the form of lollies, but i was already undressed for bed, so i didn’t.

Yours paganly,
Gullybogan