What Does This Mean? Who Can Say?

I can't believe how quickly the time goes by. It seems like only yesterday I was sitting in front of the television in my favorite Go-Bots t-shirt, watching reruns of Star Trek and thinking about how much fun I was going to have trick-or-treating.

Those were the days, man. Wandering around in the dark with a pillowcase, bothering perfect strangers in the hope that they'll throw tiny candy at my fat face. There's a lot of unspoken trust in that act, when you think about it. You just have to assume that the people behind those closed doors aren't deranged enough to do something horrible to you for shits and giggles.

I know the 1980's  hysteria over poisoned candy was completely overblown, having no basis in reality. But trick-or-treating is kind of a dangerous game when you break it down. Children don't know any better, so they're not worried about any of this, but the adults put a lot of faith in strangers when they take their kids out on Halloween night.

When I was growing up, I never felt like I was in any danger when I roamed the sidewalks of my neighborhood, panhandling at any house with a friendly jack o' lantern flickering on the porch. It was a magical night, and no harm could befall me. After all, I was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and nobody was stupid enough to fuck with that.

There's always been a sinister undertone to the holiday, but these days it's more playful. It's like seeing a good horror movie, or navigating one of those seasonal haunted houses. You get a few good scares, and when you emerge on the other side you laugh about it with your friends. All in good fun.

Besides, you don't need to be afraid of ghosts and goblins. They can't really hurt you. But when that door opens, and a kindly face greets you with a cheerful "Happy Halloween", you're never sure if that smile isn't hiding something truly sinister. You just have to hope for the best.

And judging by the lack of trick-or-treaters who disappear every year across this country, it seems that hope is not unfounded. Maybe there is hope for humanity, after all.

Nobody ever poisoned me. I emerged unscathed, aside from the obesity and numerous dental cavities I suffered in my youth.

Wait... Holy shit. Those bastards.

Wait, why am I even talking about this? Halloween is four weeks away! What the hell am I doing?

I'm supposed to be introducing the new podcast, but I spent all this time rambling about Halloween? Now what am I going to do for my annual Halloween post? Shit. I guess I'll worry about that later.
Right now, I've got to tell you about the latest installment of the internet's favorite podcast, Lies My Podcast Told Me!

This episode of entitled The Kylie Minogue Bicentennial, and it's really fucked up. I know I say that frequently, but this time I really mean it. Sure, the subject matter itself is highly inappropriate and somewhat offensive, but it's more than that.

Something... something happened on the night this podcast was recorded. A seemingly normal conversation went completely off the rails very quickly. This is ten minutes of madness. Really fucking strange stuff, even for this podcast.

I'd rather not go into any detail, because I simply can't do it justice. You just have to hear it. So hear it:

Chapter 11: The Kylie Minogue Bicentennial



TIME MARCHES ON!