Friends, I can barely keep my eye open I’m so tired. I mowed the lawn, hung some artificial cobwebs; I even painted a few jack-o-lanterns … all in preparation for my favorite holiday, Halloween—the one day of the year no one looks at me funny. What am I going to be this year, you ask? Same thing I am every year. Or at least every year since cancer stole my goddamn eyeball—not to mention my once-promising baseball career. I’m gonna be a fucking pirate. Again.
I guess I shouldn’t say ‘every’ year. In 2009 I tried being that guy from Lost who wore a patch and had a Russian accent. People were like, “Who the hell are you supposed to be?” And “Where’s the rest of your pirate costume?”
I don’t need to hear that shit so fuck it, this year, I’m going back to basics.
I’ve been giving lots of thought as to how I might change things up a bit, keep it interesting. I think I’m gonna make the little bastards who come to the door pull pieces of candy from my dead eye socket. Won’t that be a hoot?
“Avast, me hardies! Now where did I stash thee bounty? Ah, yes, now I remember … Raaaaaaaargh!”
They are going to absolutely shit themselves!
Now if you’ll pardon me, I’ve got some hay bales to place out front with the mutinying bastard scarecrows.
Happy Halloween, everyone!
Mr. Gustafson appears as part of our feature on “People with physical deformities in our community” series.
