Bad Blondes
There are racist singers afoot. Perhaps this isn't news, as there are numerous folks wielding various musical instruments that spew hate. But these particular racists that I am currently referring to are "special" because they're thirteen years old. Lamb and Lynx Gaede hail from Bakersfield, Calif., and their mother has home-schooled them into stupidity. This was, of course, after she gave them their names. Lamb and Lynx.....anyway, here's what Lynx has to say: "We're proud of being white, we want to keep being white. We want our people to stay white … we don't want to just be, you know, a big muddle. We just want to preserve our race." Sound familiar? Onto more interesting news, the heat is on in my place. Jill and I asked and we received an apartment that feels like Southern California on a good day. Which is why I walked to the corner store in flip-flops and shorts in 40-degree weather. Whatever. I won't be wearing that Monday, though. I'm not quite sure yet what I'll be wearing to celebrate this year's version of Halloween, but I'm sure I'll put something together at the last minute. I started thinking tonight about Halloween. About the various costumes I've suffered through during the years. Like the witch. The only memory I have of this particular costume is photographic, because I was a bit young:
Some scary shit, to be sure. My gramps could barely control himself. Clearly.
And then I recall a pumpkin situation my mother forced me into. It wasn't bad enough that I had to wear it to beg for candy, but I also had to wear it all day. I remember that much. At the school party that day also marked the first time I encountered that hideous carrot/raisin/white stuff concoction. Some thoughts on that: a) I don't know what it's called. b) What is that white stuff? c) What freak kitchen accident had to happen to make this stuff possible? But anyway, the costume:
I was embarrassed. Don't remember why. But I was pretty damn smiley about that dollar.
I do remember, though, that I always wanted to be a skeleton like Richie Cunningham on that one episode (I'm assuming it had a Halloween theme) of "Happy Days." So who knows what it'll be this weekend. All I know now is that the heat is on in my room and I'm burning up. I'll have to dress accordingly for bed.
