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The decent into hell has officially begun. Halloween is on Saturday, yet I’ve already encountered my first Trick-or-Treater.

Imagine my surprise when a teenager–dressed up as a ghost–shows up at my door begging for candy. I gave him a dollar to get the hell off my porch. Did he really think if I had candy I was going to share? Pff.

Yeah, yeah… I’m a spoilsport. I’ve already written about why I hate Halloween, so I’ll spare you a repeat rant. Instead I’ll offer up a bit of advice.

1) Teach your teens how to use a calendar.

2) Halloween has a way of bringing out the whore in women. If you want to dress like a prostitute you don’t need a holiday. Just change jobs, or go dancing in Ogden on a Saturday night.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to move my extreme Monday bitchiness offline and to the college campus. You’re welcome.

P.S. HA! I’m not the only one who doesn’t understand the slut level of Halloween. Maybe it’s because we are both country kids and miss the good old days where Trick-or-Treaters were adorable neighbor kids dressed in cute hand-sewn costumes that resembled baby farm animals.