bigpimpinmba's Diaryland Diary

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Halloween_05

You know what?

Whoever came up with Daylight Savings time can just go ahead and suck it.

Maybe it was a good idea when the majority of this country’s inhabitants were farmers and we wanted to maximize the number of potatoes we could pull out of the ground in the daylight during the summer. Now, though, we have illegal immigrants for that. And they will pull out potatoes in the light, dark, whatever.

That’s why God made illegal immigrants…

(I kid. I kid.)

Well, although the farmers may be able to adapt to switching their clocks by an hour, my kids do not. They wake up at the same time, regardless of what the clock says. That means that the kids will be up an hour earlier even though we put them to bed an hour later and we were up watching the “Sweet 16” marathon on MTV and hour later.

Screw you, Ben Franklin and your bright idea.

As you probably know, today is Halloween and that means that there will be mass pumpkin-cide taking place all around the land.

Here is some photographic proof of my 9th level Black Belt pumpkin-hunting kids on a pumpkin hunt. Those pumpkins didn’t even know what hit them.

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Picture of the hay spreading ritual that is to precede hunting pumpkins. This is a very secretive ritual and I could be killed by the Grand High Poobah for even posting a picture of this sacred ceremony.

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Here is a picture of my little girl, pretending to be looking in some other direction before pouncing on some poor, unsuspecting pumpkin.

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Next, we see my little girl speaking in tongues to her pumpkin to remove all evil spirits

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Next up is little Pimp attacking the pumpkin with a marker in the Pumkin-drawing ceremony of Death

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Last, we see little Pimp and sister celebrating the massacre of another evil pumpkin.

The missus and I were able to sucker convince her parents to look after the kids for a night, while we dressed up in Halloween costumes and got together with other “adults” and showed what immature children we really are.

Anyway, my plan was to go to the party as Ron Burgandy, but my wife’s friend came up with the idea of the six of us that were going to the party going as the Village People. Even though Ron Burgandy’s mustache was in the Village People, Ron was too classy for the Village and decided to stay in San Diego (San Diego is Spanish for “A Whale’s Vagina”, for all of you who don’t know) to read the news. So, as you can see, me showing up as Ron Burgandy was not too well received among the rest of the group, who thought I was trying to go make a solo album.

I relented and joined in their little flaming-homosexual idea.

But it had to be on my terms.

I was going to be the Construction Worker and I was going to gay this thing up to the point where Charles Nelson Reilly would be calling ME a fag.

I told my wife that I was going to wear shorts so short that I would be standing at the party and the following exchange would take place:

Pimp: “Good party, huh?”
Someone I just met who is desperately trying not to look down: “Yeah. Not too bad”
Pimp: “So, how do you know Patty and Keith?”
Same Someone from above, but making a face like the dog just shit, but they don’t know where: “I know them from…. What the hell is that smell?”
Pimp: “Oh. That’s probably my balls.”

I also told her that I wanted my shorts to be short to the point where it is just uncomfortable. Not just for me, but for everyone around.

And this is what they got:

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If you need a way to keep trick-or-treaters away tonight, you have my permission to print this picture out and put it on your front door.

I think we all know who was doing a lot of bending to pick things up and leg lifting on Friday night.

Anyway, I’m off to take my kids trick-or-treating tonight and then I’m off to Spain tomorrow for a trade show.

So, if any of you bitches are on the Metro in Madrid this week and you smell something that you’re certain whether it is or is not balls, just look for a guy in uncomfortably short-shorts. It may or may not be a true-playah Pimp.

Happy Halloween, ho’s.

4:06 p.m. - 2005-10-31

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