When I was growing up (which I mean to finish doing eventually) we didn't do Halloween. We lived way the eff out in the middle of nowhere (14010 North County Line Road, Spencerville, Indiana... Punch it up on Google Earth and you'll see what I mean...) and my mom was a bit of a religious zealot, and, as we all know, dressing up like an astronaut would have made my soul vulnerable to all sorts of demons and the like. And somehow I've managed to avoid being bitter about it.
When I was twenty-two I carved my first pumpkin. It was okay. It was sort of like a smiling skull-thingy with a mohawk of nails and screws.
Here are a few that I've done since then:
I feel a little silly about my pumpkins sometimes. First, because it seems very childish to put so much thought and effort into a pumpkin and, second, because there are so many people out there doing a much better job than I.
Anyway, go out there and score some candy. I'll be doing the same.
(NOTE: I do not, in any way, condone Satan worship.)