Gibberish In Halloween thoughts

time-travel-header1“Gibberish, it’s goddamn gibberish! You have no fuckin’ idea, what the hell I’m talking about you moron Writer!” Well, that could be very well the freakin’ thought of one’s fingers writing today’s blog post.

I really have no idea where or how this blog post is going to end or evidently be written either by me, my mind or my stupid finger which seem to be taking over the keyboard and my lavishly insane computer, which seems to be crying aloud in foul language to right field – “your goddam, right writer! You’ll never stop me in your stupid elegant tracks of honor to cut my throat from this story, blog post or whatever the hell you want to call it,” insanely enough that seems to be the case with today’s blog.

Catching up on catnaps between paragraphs and dueling at back episodes of the blooper reels of ABC’s Castle on YouTube, I’m getting slightly paranoid as the days lead up to the ghouls, tricks and gibberish of Halloween in the next couple of weeks. Having no idea what to think or what to do or even what to make the scene of one’s scary night as the neighborhood kids go door to door looking for treats and the sweets of candy on Halloween, the books of treats and ghouls will need to be read and the – “Hey? You call yourself a writer? What the hell are you talking about? Halloween isn’t even here yet, you dumbass!”

Just a few hours ago, Halloween was creeping into my thoughts – perhaps, I need to do some more thinking about what the do with the golly gore of Halloween at those pesky trick or treaters that will invade the darkness on October 31st.

Go figures, my haunted past is literally trying to play catch up with me, as I continue to pen and write this blog post as the first series of fall storms ravage off the Oregon Coast, wrath, puddles, wind and story telling to one’s grandkids under a crackling fire is likely the main menu course for tonight’s debate of what “grandpa and grandma,” should tell of their first meetings of life as a couple after “Gramp’s,” return from World War Two.

That my friends is the scary part. Somehow, this is to be continued?


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