Happy Halloween everyone! I’m currently putting the finishing touches on my slutty Peter Pan costume, which I know will be a hit in the neighborhood. I’ve been left home on candy-passing-out duty while the rest of the Chicago based portion of our family enjoys the Riviera Maya in Mexico. I was quite surprised to arrive at the house and see that my mom had not gone as Halloween crazy as she has in previous years. I mean we have an entire attic in our house dedicated to seasonal décor. There are a few things in the front yard, and a witch shrine in our dining room. I’m thinking I’m going to have to get over to the local party supply store later and really juice this place up. At Walgreens the other day I found a big, kick ass Skull that I think would beautifully adorn the front door of the house. I mean go big or go home, right?

I was never much of a Halloween kid. I was crafty enough to dig up 50 cents from the couch every time I felt like a candy bar, and I also happen to live near a White Hen Pantry. Put those two together, and it’s always Halloween for a young Matt Dahl. But, instead of going to buy candy bars, I usually bought a pint of white rice from our local Chinese place. Give me starch, salt, and maybe even some butter over chocolate any day. On Halloween days, I would spend sometime trick-or-treating with friends, but usually lost interest in the whole event rather quickly. It’s probably a combination of my ADD, and just a general lack of interest in walking from door to door all night. I would duck out of the festivities early to head home and help my mom pass out candy to the other kids. I guess I always liked being the sugar daddy as opposed to the sugar junkie.

That was of course until Junior High, when Halloween became an excuse to roam the suburbs with young and impressionable girls under the guise of nightfall. Nothing beats a leafy Royal Rumble. We’d pretend we were wrestling, but it was really just an excuse for us guys to run and tackle our ladies of desire. Yep—We were smooth back then. Nothing says, “I like you.� like slammin’ someone’s face in a pile of leaves.