by Henry L. Lefevre
Rated "G" by the Author.
edited: Monday, October 25, 2004
Posted: Monday, October 25, 2004
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Don't let the goblins get you!
I hate Halloween masks. Despite the flack I get from the grandkids, I no longer wear them. They are expensive, gruesome, and besides, I don't need one. Perhaps my self-portrait will help you see why.
The one time I was in Panama on Halloween night, the weather was so hot that it didn't drop down to 80 until after midnight. Despite the heat and humidity, I did put on the mask my grandkids provided. It made me sweat like a hog with hot flashes. If the gentle-sex readers don't think I know about hot flashes, they should try popping niacin pills for 24-months.
Niacin pills? The doc prescribed them. They helped keep my cholesterol under 500. By the way, the ladies might want to try the niacin cure on their husbands or boy friends whenever they fail to appreciate what women go through when hot flashes take over their thermostats and drive them bananas.
The cold also caused problems with masks. When I was doing time in Minnesota because Honeywell needed my talents, my Halloween mask felt worse than a dry-ice facial. After the tricking and treating was over, it took me three hours in a hot tub before I could separate the mask from my face. It was even worse than the time I licked a bronze statue's lollypop during a blizzard. At the time, the temperature had dived to twenty below.
As my self-portrait shows, I can scare enough kiddies without any gimmicks. I, however, am used to my looks. They no longer scare me. On the other hand, when I see myself in a mask, my blood pressure rises. By the time it drops back to 189, the tiny goblins have all gone to bed.
I can attest to the rumor that beauty is only skin deep. My skin got thinner each year after forty. By the time I reached eighty, the warts and the lesions began to peek through.
What's the need for a mask when the only activity I can handle around Halloween involves handing out candy to baby goblins and ghouls. These spooky lost souls keep ringing my doorbell until well after my 6 PM bedtime.
Although I am cheap, I still feed trick-or-treaters junk food. I don't dare hand out nourishing booty like carrots and apples. The one time I provided health foods, the kids decorated my windows with enough GI soap for 25 washings and enough decorations to TP ten trees. I didn't complain. I recovered most of the soap and TP. I didn't run out of either for over a month.
Did I say I hated Halloween? Perhaps I exaggerated. It is no longer a drag as long as I don't have to wear masks. Why has my attitude changed? Because my own children feed me the Halloween candy they commandeer from their kids. Dentures seldom get cavities.
(Previously shown on Suite101)
Web Site: Humor101
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|Reviewed by mz kimi
|quite amusing and you have my appreciation and then some!|
|Reviewed by Cynthia Borris
Come to think of it, I haven't a clue what you look like. I've shown you mine, now your turn.
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|This is too funny, Hank! LOL I don't care for Hallowe'en either; but I AM dressing up this year for work! (Mardi Gras reveller; don't need no mask; just some beads, a toy crawfish, and a Cajun shirt! Maybe I'll bring my cd and bring some Cajun tunes; yeah, that'll do! Jammin' while I am workin'! LOL)
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D