Exuberance would be purple, I think

I'm not really sure how to spell the word halloween. I've seen it spelled "hall-o-ween"and "hallowe'en" and "all hallow's eve" but I'm not really sure what the crucial differences are between these. It's not a holiday I ever celebrated with much gusto. Even as a child, I spent more years doling out candy than soliciting for it door-to-door. Begging isn't my scene: I prefer to evaluate people and watch television.

That, and I'm very picky about costumes. This is a day where one can be anything they want (my emphasis), so to don oneself in a Dollar store mask is not just unseemly, it's a tremendous waste of an opportunity. ("Gypsy" is a pretty lame costume idea also.)

Here's a few ideas I've been kicking around. This h'allowe-en, feel free to go as:

• CareBear™ that doesn't give a fuck
• The answer to the sphinx's riddle
• Hitler wearing a yarmulke
• 4" dildo (not to scale)
• Hot dog enthusiast
• Guy with cancer and AIDS and a headache
• Sundog
• The laughter of a young child
• Chinaman from the future
• Ku Klux Klam
• Procrastination
• The answer to a multiple choice question
• Natural causes
• Irish potato famine
• Obesity scare personified
• Frank discussion
• Part one of four
• Exuberance
• Flood insurance
• Unblemished record
• World Promise Keeping Champion
• Tired of listening
• Fussbucket
• "Pre-drunk, I mean--drunk"
• 1880s
• A basic assessment
• A halloween costume list

Not for the novice to be sure, but nothing that a quick trip to a craft shop can't fix. Make sure to pick up extra hot glue sticks.

Another strange interaction between Harvey and the portly store owner

Harvey: You don't sell carrots do you?
Miranda: They're right over there.
Harvey: But those are bright orange.
Miranda: And...?
Harvey: Isn't it obvious?
Miranda: Not to me.
Harvey:
Miranda:
Harvey: These pants are chartreuse. I'll be a laughing stock.
Miranda: Those look more nyanza to me.

On returning underwear that is not yours

Those with girlfriended roommates and on-site laundry might relate to this problem.

That issue when you find a pair of your roommate's girlfriend's thong underwear in the bottom of a laundry machine. This problem is awkward for me because I don't have the kind of relationship with my roommate (or anyone really) where I can calmly discuss the underthings of loved ones. But what do do with the skivvies?

I've parsed through the scenarios. Here they are in descending order of bravery required to execute:

1. Knock on roommate's door, hold out thong in outstretched arm. Loudly ask, "This yours?"
2. Quietly leave the item on your roommate's office chair while he is out. He is sure to see it later, and realize what happened. Never speak of the incident.
3. Subtly monitor roommate's laundry schedule over time. When is about to do a load, wait until he is out of sight and drop the offending article in. When sorting the laundry later will probably not notice the sly addition of the unmentionable article, but even if he does he probably won't think much of it.

This third option involves the least probability of the roommate knowing that you handled his girlfriend's panties. That said, my mind is just demented enough to consider the invisible flaws with this scenario.

Like: What if he was sorting his laundry and recognized the underwear as an item lost weeks ago? And further, what if there was no other underwear in that load, and this thong stuck out like a sore thumb?

He would realize that I have been stalking his laundry habits and waiting for just the right moment to drop this thong into the laundry machine. Which would mean I'd been biding my time with his girlfriend's underwear for days, possibly weeks. And then he would look at me cock-eyed and probably announce over breakfast, "Jesus, Harvey, you need a shrink."

Fuck that. I had to go with option number four:

4. Place underwear in brown paper bag, place in metal garbage can. Move out.

Candlelit dinner

John tilts his head forward and pulls the final oyster shell from his lips. He places it on his plate before him with a satisfying click.

Martha: I'm so glad you brought me here. John, this evening is perfect.
John: It's almost perfect. There's just one thing I need to know.

John rises from the table and descends to one knee. Martha clasps her fingers together and smiles.

John: Do my pants rise up a lot when I kneel like this? I'm worried people can see my socks.
Martha: Yeah, they do a little bit.

How to compose yourself after a sexual assault

1. Take a deep breath and hold it in for ten seconds.
2. Find a tub of chocolate ice cream.
3. Take a shower with your clothes on.