They Did The Mash

The rumors are true. White people really love Halloween. If you've driven down my street at any point this past week after 10pm it should be easy to spot my house. While every other sane family has turned out their house lights and gone to sleep there's still one porch lit up like a runway with fluorescent bats and Christmas lights.

This is where white people live.

It doesn't stop at Christmas lights, though. There are wooden grave stones dug into the lawn, spooky decals on the main window, and a glowing skeleton near the driveway. This is where white people live. Actually, this is where an unemployed white person lives. Looking for work, not productive. Buying fake spiders and setting decorations, productive. I don't see the logic but I'll move on.

Other than the use of countless decorations and unnecessary energy consumption, there are bags and bags of candy. I've seen the kids on this block and the last thing they need is more candy. Whatever happened to the white people in cartoons and on television that lived up to lame Halloween giveaways like fruits, vegetables, and small bags of pennies? Not to mention that the cassette player (yes, cassette player) will soon be positioned near the porch window with a Halloween sound effects tape just itching to be played with the quality that only mono sound can provide. 'Tis the season.

Wounds Bleeding Blue

Despite what The Pride of Inglewood claims on his Twitter feed I am not to blame for the Dodgers current woes. Sure, I was responsible for a loss that one night at Maggie's where I gave everyone no-hitter updates every third of an inning. I'll even take the fall for ending Chad Billingsley's bid for a no-hitter due to one innocent tweet (see below) but there is no way this three games to one madness is my fault.

I havn't watched any game in its entirety since the playoffs started let alone attend either of the two games here in Los Angeles. There have been no tweets, no blogs, no comments what so ever that would in any way jinx the playoff run.

Infinite Et Cetera's unofficial correspondent Mario does have a more interesting theory regarding the current state of Dodger nation that is centered around the removal of King Taco from the upper deck concourse at Dodger Stadium years ago. Because I was threatened with legal recourse I'm not allowed to copy and paste his journal entry from Myspace onto my blog, but I will post the link to it here. Now that I've absolved myself of any wrong doing here's that five minute clip from The Natural that will make us all feel a little better:

Happy Birthday Scott Eric Weinger

By the show's end, D.J. is eighteen years old and a senior in high school. In the final episode, she is going to her prom, but the date Kimmy had arranged for her wasn't able to make it. D.J. is disappointed, thinking she is going to miss the prom, but Kimmy surprises her with another date she managed to scrounge up. D.J. is afraid to ask who it is, but at that moment, Steve walks in, dressed in a tux and ready to go. D.J. happily runs to him and they hug. Both say they have missed each other and share a kiss. It's unknown whether or not the two of them got back together.

Happy 34th Birthday Steve. Nelson meant nothing to DJ.