From the arid title you could probably put a few quid on the possibility that I hate Halloween. And you’d be spot on. Let’s keep things snappy and first look at the competition with a list of 10 really crap days that compete for the prize of crappiest, most over-rated day of the year.
- New Year’s Eve. The only day to give Halloween a proper run for its money. Like a bad build up to an orgasm that never happens. Standing in the rain in Trafalgar Square waiting to sing a song you don’t know the words to before going home to watch Damon Albarn in a duet with a Bulgarian gypsy who makes music by blowing air up his own arse. On Jools bloody Holland’s fucking Hootenanny.
- New Year’s Day. Hangover and a slow, painful return to grim reality. The Radio Times Christmas edition has almost run out and you’re back to work tomorrow once you’ve finished scraping ice off the car in the pitch black. Fun month, January.
- Good Friday. Where we think about the death of our Lord Jesus Christ and the sacrifice he made for us, giving his life for our sins. Or open that big Crunchie egg with two bars included that Auntie Edith gave us. Mmmm, yummy.
- Easter Sunday. I took A-Level RS but can never quite remember what Easter Sunday is all about. Oh, hold on, I think it’s all about resurrection but it could just be something to do with a David Blaine stunt. It’s a time to reflect on zombies, two day comas and rock rolling. I wonder out loud, if Jesus had known he was going to get himself resurrected maybe he might have milked it a bit more. Food for thought. Just like a couple of Malteaster Bunnies. Mmmm, moreish.
- Easter Monday. The least relevant of all the Easter days, mainly because it feels like it has nothing to do with Easter, it’s just a tag on holiday so people can finish off that last bag of Cadbury’s Mini Eggs before they pop down to the shops to stock up on half price deals. Mmmm, filling.
- Shrove Tuesday. Great if you like pancakes. I don’t like pancakes.
- Christmas Day. Fun when you’re a kid and don’t have to fill a whole day entertaining other people’s kids that you don’t like. When you get past 14 years old – not so much of the fun stuff.
- Bonfire night. A bunch of moustachioed Catholics in effeminate hats fail to get one simple thing done and the Protestants come down on them like a ton of bricks. 400 years later we celebrate this failure by freezing our balls off and watching huge amounts of money that could go somewhere useful being fired into the sky. This is accompanied by overcooked sausages, the start of the mulled wine season and kids going ape-shit in muddy fields nationwide. School children around the world learn that your signature can be significantly altered after 3 days on the rack.
- Any Monday. Because they’re all the same and all full of enthusiasm sapping badness. Unless you’re unemployed.
- Your birthday. Because birthdays, like New Year’s Eve end up being reminders of mortality and that one great birthday piss-up 12 years ago that only went to plan because there wasn’t a plan.
So why does Halloween get the highest rating in our crap-day-o-meter? Sorry, my crap-day-o-meter. Halloween is really just another way of pouring money down the drain and scaring the shit out of vulnerable pensioners and here is a list of what makes Halloween the rubbishest day of the entire year.
- Trick or treat. What, please somebody explain, is the point of trick or treating? In life have you ever come across such a one sided deal. Knock knock! Hello. What’s it to be? Give us loads of sugary shit so we can continue this rampage into the early hours or we’ll play a ‘trick’ on you. What kind of trick you little critters, you little scamps, you irritating little fuckers? Egg and flour on my car? Dog dirt on my front door handle? Ricin in the thigh? Kidnap my wife? And that’s all it is, legalised protection racketeering and threatening behaviour. All trick or treaters should provide their addresses so that, in a sudden fit of postponed resentful rage we can go to their house and put a brick through a window. Windows. All the windows.
- Fear. Fear can manifest itself in many ways but perhaps the most pathetic is, as a grown adult, being afraid to open the door to a gaggle of bloody kids, all gasping for a snack size Twix and half a kilo of Haribo death chews. I have been known to have all the lights off and then sit it silence, totally still like some moron in the witness protection system, just hoping they’ll go away. Damn you for making me act like a big pussy.
- Thriller. Michael Jackson’s magnificent octopus (Blackadder III) is a pretty good song with a pretty impressive video. What makes me sad is when it’s played lots around Halloween and reminds me of most of the rest of the stuff he churned out. Was 80’s music so bad that he became the king? Shame really.
- Costumes. It angers me so when I leave our big Sainsbury’s one day to see the last of the BBQ crap being sold off only to return next morning to find row upon row of cheap Halloween costumes of all shapes and sizes and styles, each a total waste of money. By the time it comes round next year all the costumes will be lost, ripped, mouldy or just the wrong size. Worse still, if the adults have used the Frankenstein mask and orange wig it will more likely be covered in semen or baby oil. Or both. Something I would pay good money to see: someone opening the door to find an actual werewolf waiting for them. Preferably Max Clifford.
- Pumpkins. This really gets on my hump. Don’t we have enough water troubles without churning out endless pumpkins just to satisfy a bunch of tossers who like Halloween. I looked at a website called allaboutpumpkins.com thinking it might tell me how much water is used to grow a pumpkin but it didn’t, therefore not quite delivering what was on the box. It did say that they’re basically 90% water so let’s do some quick math here (deliberately American). Minimum 5 litres per piece (probably much more) multiplied by let’s say 1 pumpkin per 5 households. And I think you’ll find that equals………hold on…….. carry the 9……..divide by 3…….. round up to the nearest whole………… a huge great big fucking load of water. That’s what my calculator display shows. Shame on you Casio. What a silly, sodding, sodden, stupid waste. Just to pretend we’re witches for an evening. You do know where I’d put those pumpkins don’t you?
- Everything being orange and red. I am a bit of a ginger so orange and red don’t really go with me. Oh dear.
- TV reality/quiz/shit celebrity shows that have a Halloween special edition. The only thing special is the needs of the clueless prick that suggested the concept years ago. I don’t want to see Bruce Forsyth dressed like the living dead, or Bill Turnbull dressed as a zombie doing a scarily accurate impression of a twat, or Claudia Winkleman dressed as a gurning Goth reject. Or Noel Edmonds. Having a glossy, escapist, essentially lame show given a spooky makeover is no better that covering a puddle of sick up with another puddle of sick.
- Shops offering ‘spooktacular’ offers. From the advertising undead that brought you Easter ‘eggstravaganzas’ and ensuring ‘yule’ love these Christmas bargains.
- It’s not even a day, it’s a couple of hours shoehorned in between a fish finger supper and a slightly less early bed time than normal. These hours take weeks, even months in preparation. Ever get the feeling someone is taking the piss?
I think that’s it for me. Have a great Halloween and don’t feel guilty about the pumpkin, I’ll remind you about it when you’re so dehydrated you’re pissing porridge.
G. B. Hewitt 29.10.2015
Ps I had my teeth and gums relocated to my lower spine by a dental hygienist this morning, which may explain my less than cheery usual self.
Edited by…..guess who! Re-edit to come pending intelligent person reading it.