Silence of the Max

So this weekend, I did absolutely nothing constructive. Ok, well I sort of did. I made a bunch of progress on a present for a Certain max Somebody max that reads this thing. I spent a bunch of money that I didn't really need to spend and I spent all day Sunday hanging out with my kid.

OH! Kiddo and I found the last bit of Max's Halloween costume. A gently used London Fog trenchcoat that doesn't smell like death or cat pee!! For only 20 bucks!! I love Top Drawer!! Now I just need a knit cap and the ability to say "fuck" every third word and our costumes are complete.

Yes, we're doing a "couples" costume. No, I will not be going to work in the costume (although I wish I could because it'll be the most comfortable costume EVER.) No, I'm not going trick-or-fucking-treating. Yes, we're going to a Halloween party. (Two, actually)

So...hmph. I'm completely justified in dressing up. Now be quiet.

Actually, I'm sort of excited/weirded out about it because my dear, wonderful, over-achieving boyfriend has decided that we're not just dressing as Jay & Silent Bob (oh, by the way - that's our costume, keep up people) we're going as Jay & Silent Bob.

"What's the difference??"
"Well, if we're dressing as them, we're just wearing the outfits, but we still act like ourselves. If we're GOING as them, then we have to act like Jay and Silent Bob all night."
"Going...definitely going. Otherwise, what's the point??"
"O..K. You realize this means I have to curse all night - "
"No problem"
" - yes, but - it also means you have to be SILENT all night."
"....I'll do my best."

So yeah - I get to wear sweats and a t-shirt and curse like a motherfucking sailor all night, whereas Max has to wear a trenchcoat and shut the hell up all night.

Now, let me tell you something about Max. He's, well....he's talkative. He could totally pull off Thoughtful Bob, Quiet Bob, Wow-He-Doesn't-Talk-Much-Does-He Bob...noooo problem. Silent Bob? Um. I think he'll do admirably for a while.

Of course, on my side, the whole Jay act? Oh boy. I'm not a shy flower when it comes to cursing, but a Jay-level of profanity? Um...hm...I'll see what I can do. Of course, the main reason why I'm Jay is because Max is the only one of us that can successfully grow a beard. Otherwise? I'd have no problems being the quiet guy in the overcoat. In fact, that may be next year's costume. I'll be a flasher. Just stalk around in an overcoat and look pervy. Heh.

Also, Max looks kind of like Kevin Smith. Which, I think we can all agree...is hot.

So yeah...Halloween. Fuck.

In that vein - Fucking Halloween - the God.DAMN. candy bowls are out in full force...motherfuckin' shit. Damn chocolate on every damn desk. arg. The Season of Eating is upon us.

Look, co-workers and such, do me a favor. Jolly Ranchers. OK? I can't stand 'em. I only eat them in a pinch. Stop with the chocolate and the mini Heath bars (quiet Jane) and the fun-sized Snickers and...

Motherfucker, now I'm hungry. Dammit.

Dude,I totally sprained something reaching for this entry. And can you believe that the blogger dictionary doesn't have "fuck" in it? What the hell...who put THAT word list together? Have they never READ a journal before?

There are cookies in the fridge calling my name. Y'all have a good night.