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This week’s comic doesn’t really need a lengthy commentary. I resorted to a lame eighties reference and mentioned a creepy subculture that might require some explanation for a few people. Other than that, the rest are all corny jokes I managed to stitch together between innings of the ALCS.
For the spring chickens, whippersnappers, and barely legals among you, Freddy Krueger was the icon of self-aware horror films before Scream, the movie that spawned the demon seed of three Wayans brothers scatalogical comedies. I haven’t seen Freddy Vs. Jason, but I assume it makes this explanation pretty pointless. This is a dumb joke about his striped sweater. As a fabric aficionado, I can say that argyle is much more suited for socks than sweaters.
I mucked up the Goody Winthrop joke. It works better if you imagine a Salem Witch trial where the accused is trying to explain it was just a costume, and then it drags on and on like an SNL sketch. I only recently learned that Goodwife, goody for short, was a title for the female head of a house. I just assumed it was very demeaning first name Puritan mothers gave to their ugly daughters.
This is just a matter of opinion, but anyone who tells me they believe in ghosts or actually witnessed one immediately lets me know they are retarded. This also applies to people who tell me they believe in the Holy Ghost, but I keep that to myself, lest I be smote from on high.
I love zombies. I love zombie movies. I know they are incredibly formulaic, but there’s something about the undead that causes me to lower my snobbishly high cinematic standards. And for that they deserve to have equal representation in Hollywood.
I can’t remember when these Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup commercials aired. I’ll guess and say the late eighties or early nineties. They’d take place in some random time period or place where someone’s chocolate would get stuck in someone else’s peanut butter. Every Halloween children are scared shitless by tales of candy laced with razors, needles, and poisons. Hospitals open up their x-ray machines for parents to inspect their children’s hauls. It turns out that it’s not very likely, so I’m free to portray it as a forced parody, unlike say a similar premise involving ruffies and an apple martini.
There might be some people who don’t follow the seedy underbelly of the web or watch MTV’s True Life and have no idea what a furry is. A furry is like a Star Trek or Star Wars nerd, but so fucked up in the head that they have fetishized anthropomorphic creatures. I may be comparing apples to oranges, but at least a necrophiliac still gets a hard on from their own species.
One last note about Halloween. Ladies, please don’t go as a cat. That is the lamest, most unoriginal costume idea and only serves to advertise the fact that you are devoid of a single creative thought.