A Good Harvest

Smashing pumpkin sorta good times occur at the festivals of the harvest that make this the best spot on the calendar. Hell, look at these two vixens I encountered at the Croker/Stephens bash/cemetery.

Along the way, I encountered other daughters of darkness, willing concubines of satan. What a night. Wednesday is the worst day for Halloween, though. Yesterday, Christmas decorations were going up at Stone Mountain. I went there for a haunted hayride. How fucking stupid is that?

I guess the Invisible Man's formula wore off. Unfortunately, he took off all his clothes and tried to sneak away. He was swallowed by the night.

Every party these days ends with the tasting of the flesh which some of the guests sampled with relish. That's a little zombie joke. I love little zombies.

It looks like April wound up in a shuttered room but she has Oliver Reed to keep her company.

I think this is finished now. I promise now to deliver the abstract, from the Day of the Dead, and beyond.