Halloweenies

Since I might have the distinct pleasure of handing out candy to the children in my new neighborhood, I'm thinking about boiling a bunch of hot dogs and serving them up on buns with orange mustard. I'll answer the door and say "Hey! Who wants a Halloweenie?" I wonder how many parents would promptly instruct their kids to get the hell away from me and further, how many would call me a sick bastard? I don't know, Halloweenies sound pretty fucking good to me. They'd be turkey dogs, first off. You'd think that with all that candy and general sugar running through the systems of these trick-or-treaters, they'd be relieved to come to a house that's offering a meal of sorts; a break from the rigors of chewing Sugar Daddies and various forms of nougat and caramel. Either that, or there will be that one kid who sort of straggles along at the back of the pack. His dad didn't want to come and his mom left town years ago. Most of the kids don't like him because he wears the same yellow sweatpants every day, but he's got every XBox 360 ever made, so they keep him around. He doesn't really like candy because he has been brought up to think that candy will turn him into lump of shit, so he takes the hot dog from me and thanks me for dinner. He's a good kid, leave him alone.

I've got more gym stories today, although they're now a week old. No matter, they're just as pathetic.

Lauren had two days of training down in Manhattan Beach last week, so we stayed in a hotel down there to avoid getting up painfully early to fight traffic two days in a row. It turned into two nights since we wanted to try and enjoy to the hotel a little bit before leaving town. The training was held at the flagship branch of her healthclub, which happens to be Spectrum. This place was ridiculous. In comparison to the club that Lauren has to sell for, this place is PS3 and her club is Coleco Vision.

The first day there, I was immediately drawn to the ball courts on site, also home to the Clippers as their practice facility. Awesome. There's Clipper logos all over the court and huge banner announcing the court's status as their second home. What this also meant was that the 3-point line was the NBA 3-point line. No college line in sight, and that does not bode well for me. I can hit college threes at maybe a 35-40% clip when completely unguarded at standing at my favorite spot in the floor. I took 30 NBA threes on day one, and I hit 4. 4-for-30. And I was dog-fucking-tired after this little exercise, because it's damn far to the hoop from that line. I had also never taken an NBA three before; at least not knowingly. Disaster.

As I'm shooting my threes, another dude was taking jumpers and free throws at one of the side hoops nearest me. A few minutes after I finished my comedy act, he challenged me to a game of horse. My first mistake was accepting. My second mistake was admitting that my achilles heel is the NBA three.

We stayed even through H-O, and then the rains came. He began banking threes from all angles and put me away in a very quick and quiet fashion. Well, quiet minus the squeals I was making as I heaved up every three I took. It was a bad scene overall, but he was a good sport. His name was Tony and he was probably in his late 50's or early 60's. I promised him I'd get him next time, but that promise was about as empty as the one Anthony Smith made last year before the Patriots played the Steelers.

Day two at the gym: 2-for-20 from beyond the arc. Talk about an exercise in futility. It's just too far, and quite frankly, I'm just not a very good basketball player. I've always played, but in high school I was the guy they put in for defense. I have zero handle, not having benefitted from the tutelage of Ponch back in my UMass days. However, there will just always be something inherently fun about shooting around and playing horse. I just have to lay off the NBA threes.

Here's wishing all of you a safe and happy halloween, especially those taking their little ones out to build their empires of candy. Gilbert, don't eat too much of Joey's candy, bro. You can do without it.