30 days of ‘ween

30 days of ‘ween
Lydia at work
Lydia at work

Ello all, it’s that time again. Every year around this period, I start feeling it in my body. Cramps, irritability, anxiety, mood swings, angry outbursts and tender mamas are all signs that my favorite holiday – I like to call it ‘ween – is here. I hear some of you dissenters whispering that it’s too early for talk of ‘ween, but no, it’s not too early. It’s becoming more of a regular occurrence for Easter paraphernalia to appear on shelves just weeks after Christmas and Christmas goodies appear on the shelves just after Halloween. I think this is the perfect time to talk about our Dark Lord’s favorite day of the year. If it’s one thing you yanks do well, it’s Halloween.

Back in England, my buddies and I had so much fun at ‘ween. Then I came here, and I thought I’d died and gone to some kind of heaven. There were sweeties, chocolate (despite America not knowing how to make it taste good, I’m not picky), elaborate home and garden shows with the names of all the houses occupants written on little grave stones (bless), corn mazes, and my favorite … haunted houses.

When God thought to create haunted houses, he thought, “Well I don’t normally do this kind of thing, but let’s really try messing them up and put it down to adversity building character.” Well, on behalf of all America, thank you God, we owe you one.

Anyway, I digress. A year ago I was a corn maze virgin. Friends asked if I done it before, and I went “cheeky beggar…” and then said “no I never,” so off we went.

Wow, I was blown away. There’s not many places that you can be swallowed by an inflatable beast, see a giant pig and be chased by a chainsaw-wielding psycho. Back home, I’d either have to be at my mate Nobby’s house (say no more), or down the local nature reserve after midnight, only there’s less chainsaw-wielding psychos.

What I’m trying to say though, is don’t be sittin’ on yer arse all month and not be involved in this wonderful time of year. Every week I’ll be here to remind you of your duty to get some ‘ween, so go eat some sweeties and above all, if you’re a corn maze virgin, I think it’s high time you get shucked.

Laters all, lav ya spooky bums.

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