Glibbery-Blibble-Bleck

I don’t like gooky mess. Does that sound gay? Whatever, maybe that sounds gay. I don’t care – I can deal with a mess – I’m a bit of a mess – but I hate – yech – that gooky feeling of sticking your hand in a pumpkin, removing the guts and seeds and juices and whatnot so the pumpkin doesn’t rot - (Yech) - it’s that awful swirling gloopy bubbling feeling of something alive that shouldn’t be alive squirming around in your hand some Glibbery-Blibble-Bleck trying to suck off your arm – y-know what I mean? Disgusting. Absolutely gross.

I didn’t remove all the guts – that was three days ago - and now my pumpkin is rotting on my kitchen counter… I carved the interlocking NY that the Yankees use on their caps into the pumpkin. It kind of looks more like the interlocking NY that the Mets use on their caps. My stomach turns. I gaze into the pumpkin that should have read “[interlocking NY symbol] 2010 World Series Champions! Suck it Philly!” And my stomach churns. It turned out all wrong – I’m admittedly not half as handy with a knife as I like to boast. But half as handy as I boast is still quite handy indeed. The Pumpkin doesn’t look right. My stomach burns and I run to the bathroom to blast off.