Hey now! It's Halloween on Saturday. Always nice to see a festive holiday fall on the drunkenest day of the week. We call this Calendarial Serendipity. Just kidding. No one calls it that. That's idiotic.

Last year I took my kids trick or treating and came upon a house that was giving out full-sized candy bars. No lie. FULL FUCKING SIZE, BABY. When you're used to miniature and fun-sized candy on Halloween your whole life, seeing a full size Butterfinger in the basket is like staring at something the size of a BATTLESHIP. It's majestic and frightening all at once. No, no, no. I couldn't possibly consume a WHOLE candy bar. That would be piggish. Let me just eat an entire bag of very small portions of candy. Much healthier.

I've never had a good Halloween costume. Ever. One time, in 9th grade, I went to a friend's house dressed in a coat and tie and covered in blood, carrying an axe. I told everyone I was a stockbroker who had to pay alimony. My friend's mom told my mom. Both were highly disturbed by my choice.

Anyway, it's a kickass slate of spooooooky games for you this go round. Let's dive right in…

The Games
All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.

Five Throwgasms

Broncos at Ravens: Given that the Chiefs have worn the old Dallas Texans' uniforms on occasion during the AFL throwback season, AND given the Titans have busted out the old Oilers unis, shouldn't the Ravens wear the Cleveland Browns' uniforms for a home game? That would blow my fucking mind. I'd like to see them do it just to see how long it would take Cleveland fans to drive to Baltimore and begin stabbing the shit out of people. If I were a Cleveland fan, and I saw a legitimately GOOD team playing in my team's uniforms, I'd have a nervous breakdown. I'd also be curious to see how much worse the Ravens play in those getups. I have no scientific proof of this, but it's a FACT. Playing in a Browns uniform makes you 36.8% slower. And 23.4% if you're wearing a Redskins uni. Those are some slowass uniforms.

Everyone has ripped on the Broncos throwbacks of late. However, I kind of like the striped socks they use when they wear them, especially when some players decide to twist them into a spiral. So hypnotic. Reminds me of the Clock King. Also, those are total porn stockings. Slap a pair on Sandra Shine and you've got yourself a twenty-minute self-fisting video.

Vikings at Packers: Let's use this space today to pay tribute to Aaron Rodgers. Rodgers is currently the league's second rated passer, and has an impressive 11 TD's to just 2 picks. He's done all this despite being sacked more than any other passer in the NFL (25 times). Only two other QB's have been sacked more than 20 times: Jason Campbell and Matt Cassel. Both are having horrible seasons. Rodgers was sacked roughly 83 times when the Packers played the Vikings at the Metrodome. I imagine he's rather determined to make up for that showing.

Also, Rodgers looks exactly like BJ Novak. It's unnerving, especially now that he has short hair. I keep expecting him to walk off the field with a ditzy Indian girl.

In Vikings news, the Vikings announced last night that former safety Orlando Thomas died from Lou Gehrig's Disease. This made me very sad, until Thomas called people to let them know that he was, in fact, NOT dead. In fact, he was still very much alive. Let this be a lesson to the Vikings' PR Department: Only declare people dead if they aren't alive enough to protest such an announcement.

Giants at Eagles: Holy Christ, Donovan McNabb is inaccurate. He may as well throw the ball underhanded. Half the time, I think he's lawn bowling. STOP THROWING THE BALL AT THE FUCKING GROUND, MAN.

Falcons at Saints It's Halloween cheerleader week! My boner wishes it could be Halloween cheerleader week every week!

Four Throwgasms

Dolphins at Jets: Merrill Hoge testified before Congress this week about concussions. I'm told his testimony was very good. Here is a small snippet of what he said…

"Mr. Congressman, I believe that with proper funding we have an OUTSTANDING chance to prevent future concussions for athletes young and old alike. Concussions that leave them with short-term memory loss and extreme headaches. Furthermore, VINCE YOUNG KILLED STEVE MCNAIR AND HIS MISTRESS AND I CAN PROVE IT! FLORIO! KING! DON'T LET THE NASHVILLE POLICE HOODWINK YOU! THIS IS ALL VINCE YOUNG'S DOING! FOLLOW THE BLOOD! FOLLOW THE BLOOOOOD! What's happening to my vision? Everything is shaded red! I think I left something in the microwave! DID ANYONE ELSE HEAR THAT NOISE? AHHHHHH! IT FEELS AS IF SOMEONE HAS PLACED A MIGHTY BOULDER UPON MY NECK! PRETZELS! GARBAGE LIDS MAKE FINE SHIELDS!"

Three Throwgasms

49ers at Colts: Enough, Pizza Hut. You aren't fooling anyone with your stupid fucking Wingstreet ads. Or those ads where you serve giant hotel pans of your horrible, overcooked pasta and supposedly real diners think it was flown in directly from Tuscany. BULLSHIT. It's bullshit and you know it. I've had your food, Pizza Hut. It's ASS. Oooh, you tricked chefs from BUFFALO that your wings are good? ZOMG! I'm stunned! I never would have guessed people from that gastronomic capital of the universe would be convinced the food you serve isn't low-grade dog food. Tom Collichio would knife you for the things you cook.

Seahawks at Cowboys: No free fried green beans from TGI Friday's if someone hits the video board this week. Also, a Wisconsin man this week tried to evade a DUI bust by claiming his BAC level was the result of eating a Jack Daniels steak at Friday's the night before. Disregarding the fact that 1) Alcohol in marinades burns off when cooked and 2) There isn't enough booze in a steak to keep your BAC level high 12 hours AFTER you've eaten it, I still like the fact that this man is arguing that any booze consumed in steak form SHOULD NOT COUNT. You can't arrest me! I was eating vodka bacon! That's legal!

Two Throwgasms

Texans at Bills: NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE CAGEY DICK JAURON!

One Throwgasm

Browns at Bears: I'mma call it right now: Shanahan coaches the Bears next year. Some people think Shanahan is waiting until the end of the year to take over the Redskins, but why would he bother with that horrible job when he could come into Chicago, wrest control away from Jerry Angelo, and get to work with a quarterback he loves? It's a lock, I tell you! Lovie Smith can challenge that hiring all he likes! It won't be overturned!

Rams at Lions: You'll spend three hours wondering why the FOX robot is ALSO playing guitar. I'll never understand that. The presence of the robot is odd enough. Why is he playing the fucking guitar? And doing it behind his head? Am I supposed to be impressed? Am I supposed to hold up a lighter for him? He's a fucking cartoon.

Raiders at Chargers: Most people use Yahoo for their fantasy football league. One of the leagues I'm in uses Fleaflicker, and one of the nice touches Fleaflicker adds is that every fantasy game is broken into quarters. The 1PM games are the first quarter. The 4:15PM are the second. The Sunday Night game is the third quarter, and the Monday Night game is the fourth. On its face, this is stupid. But man, does it look fucking awesome when you outscore some asshole who has no players going in the MNF game 28-0 in the fourth quarter of box score. A DOMINANT PERFORMANCE IN THE CLUTCH!

Jaguars at Titans: How about that Sally Reese? For those that missed it, former Titans GM Floyd Reese's wife went on the radio last week to blast the team and coach Jeff Fisher.

Appearing on WGFX in Nashville (via the Nashville City Paper), Sally Reese suggested that Floyd was fired with no notice, that he was given no opportunity to clean out his office, and that his resignation letter was written by Titans senior V.P. Steve Underwood…

"He kept Jeff from getting fired two times," she said. "So if he'd let him get fired, he'd still be there. Hello? That's hindsight. But you know paybacks — can I say bitch? — payback's a bitch."

Ooh, kitten's got claws! Between this and Jeff Fisher rocking the Manning jersey last week, things have gone to shit in Tennessee at lightning speed. It's bizarre. It feels as if the entire season has slipped out of their grasp as a random twist of fate. This team was steady as a rock last year. Then they don't resign Haynesworth, blow the opener against Pittsburgh, get injuries in the secondary, and suddenly they're the Lions. They aren't that different of a team from a year ago. Yet this year, they serve as proof that sometimes, you just get shit on. You really do.

I'm at the age now where I can see a shitty day coming a mile away. By 9AM, if the kids are screaming, and I feel like shit, and I know there's a trip to the fucking post office in my future, I already KNOW to write the day off. It helps prepare me for when everything else goes wrong the rest of the day. And it does. It always does. There are entire football seasons that feel that way. The Titans are having one such season, as Seattle had last year.

Panthers at Cardinals: Delhomme is starting AGAIN! It's getting to be downright irresponsible. It's like watching the Ali-Holmes documentary on ESPN all over again. (It was really good, by the way.) How much shittier could Matt Moore or AJ Feeley be? Those two must be quadruple amputees to not get the nod over Cajun Boy. Delhomme was overthrowing receivers by MILES last week.

This Week In The Redskins' Collapse
People, you really need to start reading Dan Steinberg's blog and see the work he's doing on this Redskins calamity. I fucking hate the Skins and even I find it fascinating. This man is doing Pulitzer prize winning work. IT'S TRUE! Anyway, this week Steinberg got quotes from the Redskins head counsel, playing the role of Baghdad Bob for Dan Snyder, telling fans that all signs have been banned from FedEx Field, lest they INJURE OTHER FANS. That just about killed me.

Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall

"Waste of Tiamat," by High on Fire. I approve of any song that references Tiamat. I used to play Dungeons and Dragons with my brother when I was a kid. Shocking, but true. Whatever. When you're eight years old and unfamiliar with pussy, dragons are fucking badass. Anyway, I used to peruse the Monster Manual, Fiend Folio, and Dieties & Demigods manuals constantly, checking out all the picture and evil powers all the monsters had. Tiamat was the baddest bitch of the bunch. According to Wiki:

Tiamat is the five-headed queen of the evil chromatic dragons. She has one head for each customary color of chromatic dragon (black, blue, green, red, white), and each head has the powers of a member of the respective race of dragonkind.

I remember each dragon had a specific breath weapon. And wouldn't you know it, there's a D&D Wiki to refresh my memory.

Black – Acid spittle (also known as the Larry Johnson dragon)
Red – Cone of fire
Green – Cone of corrosive gas (also known as the Barney Gumble dragon)
Blue – Lightning
White – Cone of frost (also known as the Dentyne Ice dragon)

But those are not the only colored dragons in the D&D world. Far from it! There are silver dragons, bronze dragons, copper dragons, brass dragons, and even PRISMATIC dragons. That's right! RAINBOW DRAGONS! I used to pretend I was a dragon. No joke. I'd imagine myself as a giant blue dragon, hiss-talking, spitting fucking lightning bolts at those who displeased me. And now I blog for a living. Stunning turn of events. Regardless, I remember all this stupid crap fondly.

Oh, and Tiamat on the D&D Saturday morning cartoon was lame. That whole show was a fucking letdown. They could have centered the show around a chaotic evil fighter-thief who uses all his gold pieces buy more weapons and slay the shit out of everything in sight. Instead, I get a bunch of asshole kids who got stuck in some amusement park ride and just wanna go home. And Venger only had one horn. Retarded.

Embarassing Song I Own That Will Not Fire You Up

"Tears Dry On Their Own," by Amy Winehouse. Amy got a boob job this week. As the immortal flubby notes, that's akin to putting new rims on a ‘78 AMC Pacer.

Open Mailbag Tuesdays
Got something you want displayed for show and tell in the Deadspin Tuesday Mailbag? mid-fry bacon sandwich, perhaps? Email me any question or observation you like.

LondonFAIL
In his press conference after the Pats-Bucs game in London last week, Tom Brady noted that the Wembley crowd did The Wave for ten minutes prior to the game. Roger Goodell, never give these fucking limeys a team. Ever.

Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
Larry Johnson. Don't worry, we'll get to Matt Forte next week. But we gather today to commemorate the end of LJ's career, a career that included a grand total of two awesome seasons surrounding by nothing but FUCKING FAIL. I drafted LJ in two leagues this year. I knew it was an idiotic thing to do, and yet I did it anyway. I have no one to blame but myself. BUT THAT DOESN'T ABSOLVE YOU FROM FUCKING SUCKING, YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT. God, how I loathe Larry Johnson. He was always a thin-skinned pussy, and he'll never stop being a thin-skinned pussy, regardless of how many blatantly incorrect SI puff pieces are composed in his name. THIS IS IT FOR YOU, LARRY. YOU CAN'T HURT ME ANYMORE.

/drops LJ in both leagues

God, that felt great. I've been wanting to do that since the day I drafted you. FAG.

Suicide Pick Of The Week
Last week's suicide pick of Indy was correct, making me 6-1 on the year. That puts the Colts, Eagles, Vikings, Texans, Ravens, Saints and Skins off the board now. We once again pick a team for your suicide pool and something that makes you WANT to commit suicide. This week's pick? Chicago, and the Fresh Beat Band.

Oh, you'll pay for piggybacking off the High School Musical fad and turning it into programming for small children, Nickelodeon. You will pay dearly. NA NA NA NA LET'S GO BANANAS! GAHHHHHHH!!! Can't… get… perky melody… out of head…

/sticks two-bit drill into temple

Ahhhhhh…

Nazi Shark's Vegas Lock Of The Week
Lots of sports sites, to demonstrate the arbitrary nature of gambling, like to have animals like monkeys pick games to see if they can outwit their human counterparts. There's no reason we at Deadspin can't also get in on the fun. So we've asked National Socialist German Workers' Party member Rolf, who also happens to be a shark, to pick one game a week. Take it away, Nazi shark.

"This week, I like the Colts giving 12.5 points at home against the 49ers."

What's your Halloween costume this year, Rolf?

"Same as always. Jew Cousteau. I put on a snorkel and swim around with a gold treasure chest. Nazi orca always gets a kick out of it."

2009 Nazi Shark Record: 5-2.

This Week's Pants Party Winner
Last week's Pants Party winner was douchenozzle22. He gets free rant space here:

Dear LA Dodgers fans,

You are the biggest collection of front-running, unknowledgeable lemmings I have ever come across. Having made the trek to LA to see Game 2 of the NLCS with 3 of my friends, we were ready for a whole bunch of shit talking directed our way, along with an occasional airborne pint of budmillercoors piss. All we got were any combination of various tenses of the words "suck," "fuck," and "Phillies" with an occasional peanut thrown in our direction. Not to mention the only time you cheered was when your piece of shit I-pod looking scoreboard told you to.

This week's winner was That Guy. That Guy, come and claim your prize.

Great Moments In Poop History
Another week, another batch of slick, wet poop stories. One reader suggested we take all the poop stories and create a Deleted Stains post for Fridays. Not sure if Daulerio would be wild about that idea. Anyway, this week's story comes from Matt. I call it, "Marley And Me And Poop":

I was maybe like 13 or 14, somewhere around junior high age, and taking my dog for a walk. We lived in the Philly burbs and had a nice stretch of woods that went all the way to the river where I'd take my dog for walks. I'd had him out for maybe 10 minutes or so, and as he was taking a dump, I realized that I had to go too. It literally only took about a minute to walk back to my house but I figured I'm already in the woods so why not just take a shit there.

So I dropped my shorts and started taking a dump with my dog. Our eyes locked as we both pooped and it was a beautiful bonding moment that I'd never had with my dog before. Anyway, he finishes before I do, makes a bee line towards me as I'm still going, dives right into my turds and starts rolling around in it. Not sure what looked so attractive about them to him but I had never seen him so excited to be rolling around on the ground. He literally had shit, my shit, all over him from his head to his tail, just covered in it. It was funny at first but started to get really gross and I nearly puked.

So finally I take him home and lie to my parents and tell them that he for some reason decided to roll around in his shit. Which confused them because in the ten or so odd years the dog was alive he never had that problem. Then I laughed to myself as I watched my parents hose my crap off of our dog in the front yard for 20 minutes.

Oh man, you made your folks clean it up? You little shitty shit!

Fire This Asshole!
Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? All year long, we'll keep track of which coaches will almost certainly get fired at year's end or sooner. And now, your updated chopping block:

Tom Cable
Jim Zorn
Eric Mangini
Jim Mora
Jeff Fisher*
Dick Jauron*
Jack Del Rio*
Todd Haley
John Fox
Norv Turner
Raheem Morris
Lovie Smith*

I'm telling you. Shanny is measuring Lovie's windows as we speak.

Gametime Halloween Candy Of The Week

Reese's FastBreak! I worked as an account executive on the Hershey's business for an ad agency named DDB for three years at the turn of the century. Every week, we had to rent a car in Manhattan and drive out to Hershey, PA, to meet with clients about various matters of business.

When you go to a meeting at the Hershey's corporate offices, there's candy EVERYWHERE. In giant bowls when you walk in the door. At the reception desk. Lining the hallways. They have candy IN THE FUCKING FILE CABINETS FOR REFERENCE PURPOSES. There are boxes upon boxes of candy lying around in meeting rooms when they can't find anywhere else to put it. And every meeting room has a giant bowl filled to brim and above with candy. Any time the candy in the bowls leveled off – not emptied, but simply came flush with the top of the bowl – an assistant wheeled in a new, overflowing bowl to replace it. People were eating candy at 9AM or earlier. And everyone who said in the car that they wouldn't start eating candy the second they walked in the door failed.

Best of all, as the company's agency of representation, we got test product. TEST PRODUCT! FUCK YEAH! This was the candy they invented in the test kitchen and sampled among themselves to see if it was worth mass producing. One of the test products I first got to eat was FastBreak. They gave us a giant white box of the bars, all with plain white wrappers. Let me tell you something. Candy is great. But TEST PRODUCT candy fucking rules. It's new, and no one else gets to eat it but you. It's awesome. It's candy from the fucking FUTURE.

We got to brainstorm names for FastBreak as it was being developed of the market. The earliest name for it was the Reese's Peanut Butter Bar, which no one argued with. But they decided that name was too boring and wanted something more energetic. They almost named the bar Growler, which really would have been unfortunate. Instead, they named it FastBreak. Because when you think of a point guard rushing down the court to take advantage of a 3-on-2 situation, you think of peanut butter nougat and peanut butter sheathed in milk chocolate.

FastBreak was one of several different products they came up with while I worked on the account. Hershey's Bites was another one. Ever have Heath Bites? HOLY SWEET BABY MOSES, those are good. And they came out with filled Twizzlers when I was there too. They were called Twist-n-Fill, and I don't think they sell them anymore.

Any time we made the trip to Hershey, the client always let us into the company's employee store, where you can get all their candy, in bulk, for next to nothing. The store may as well have had a chocolate river flowing through with Oompa Loompas dancing around. Before we made any trip to the store, we had to go around the agency and take an inventory of any and all candy people wanted. Because there was a ton of shit in the Hershey's employee store that you couldn't get at a regular store: Zero bars, chocolate Twizzlers, watermelon Twizzlers, Cookies n Mint bars. Anything you wanted. We looted the store for everything and would bring back entire trunks of the stuff back to New York for everyone else. Whenever it was Halloween, or Christmas, or Easter, the load would double. And so the agency itself became a kind of Hershey East, with shitloads of kickass candy all over the place.

Don Draper got all the booze and stray pussy he liked. I got candy. Not terribly fair, but still. It was good candy. Man, I could go for some candy right now.

Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week
Reader Gabriel sends in easily the coolest terrible beer I've seen yet: Dark Horse High Gravity Ice Lager.

Sure, Beer 30 is great. The clocks on the can all point to Beer 30 time, and hey, guess what, it's always Beer 30 time. No sense in NOT having a time to get hammered. Also, the price was unbeatable, at $10 for a 30 rack.

That is until Dark Horse High Gravity Lager rammed it in the balls and took over as reigning shitty beer.

Look at this can:

Dark Horse High Gravity Lager (HIGH GRAVITY!). Note the dark horse, the lightning and the icy mountains set on a glacier in the background. Also, the gothic text. Also — for emphasis —THE FUCKING LIGHTNING. It's easily the best bang for your buck, coming in at $6 for a 24 pack. The ultimate beer for college kids who just want to get plastered.

I don't care if it says it was brewed by some horrible corporation called GJS Sales and has a deal with the Taliban to keep it so cheap. I don't care that it tastes a little metallic and gives the worst hangovers imaginable. Nor do I care that, because it's so cheap, it's unquestionably giving me dick cancer. When you're broke and need cheap beer, there is no better answer than the Dark Horse.

Gabriel is RIGHT! $6 for 24 cans? Good God, it may just be ethanol with yellow food coloring. And it's ICE brewed! For extra booziness! And that is one truly majestic can. It's like the cover of a Sword album. Well played, Gabriel. VERY well played.

Robert Evans' MVP Watch!
Time to start thinking about who the leaders are for the NFL's MVP award. So every week, legendary Hollywood producer Robert Evans will join us to give us his assessment. Take it away, Mr. Evans.

"Baby, my favorite for the NFL's MVP this year is still Peyton Manning of the Colts! Polished? You bet! Accurate? Like John Toll's eye for shooting grassy fields at 5PM! Oh, Halloween. My, my, my. We've had some pretty memorable Halloween shindigs at Casa Evans over the years. One year, Ann-Margaret came to the house completely naked, save for a pendulum she hung from the folds of her womanhood. Baby, I said, what kind of costume is that? Evans, she told me, I'm a metronome. I keep you tickling my ivories in perfect time. Sassy? YOU BET!"

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Rams Fans

Anvil! The Story Of Anvil. Greatest movie ever? Greatest movie ever. I don't even know which part to single out. Was it Lips trying to get Thin Lizzy guy to remember him by mentioning that he used to play the guitar with a vibrator? Was it Cut Loose, the Anvil fan you see above, who looks like a mongoloid and runs a telemarketing company? Was it the fact that Robb's sister was named Droid? Was it Robb's painting of his own shit? I think it's Robb's painting of his own shit. I loved this movie and would happily watch a 36-hour cut of it.

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
"We have places your family can hide in peace and security: Cape Fear, Terror Lake, New Horrorfield, Screamville…"

Halftime Masturbation Kit
-For the guys: Sexiest Woman Alive Kate Beckinsale. Kate married her "Underworld" director. And now you know why so many assholes go to film school.
-For the gals: Becky sends this link of shirtless hunk Cam Gigandet. Sexy pull-up!

Enjoy the games, everyone. Happy Halloween.

Before we get into this week's batch of emails and tweets, let us all gather to congratulate our own Bobby Big Wheel for scoring a column over at the National Football Post. It's always heartening to see lawyers find a creative outlet and take a moment away from being horrible, horrible people. Kudos to you, good sir. I've never met you, but for some reason I assume you look like Philip Seymour Hoffman. I always assume anyone online – male or female – looks like Philip Seymour Hoffman.

Thomas:

Drew, attached is a photo of a urinal at NYC restaurant PJ Clarks (above). Please comment.

Hey, I've pissed in that urinal! It's fun. It feels like you're pissing in Ancient Rome. I bet Sinatra banged a girl in one of those urinals. Giant old urinals, these days, can only be found in restaurants or very old municipal buildings and schools. It's practically worth getting arrested just so you can pee in an old courthouse. Like pissing directly into history. I bet that urinal weighs 75,000 pounds.

Sometimes you get old bowl urinals that are 500 years old and six feet deep. They're impervious to splashback, and I cherish them when I happen upon them.

Laremy:

Did you hear Gumbel/Dierdorf mention Favre could still throw far and was having fun??!! NFL announcing = full frontal lobotomy.

I thought those two were fairly restrained during the first half. Then the second half arrived and it all went to shit. As Laremy points out, you will NEVER make it through a Vikings telecast this year without closeup shots of Favre throwing up both hands and smiling, and then going to hug his teammates, followed by the word FUN used in many various iterations. And you won't make it out without the analyst telling you that last throw by Brett Favre PROVED that he's still got it.

There was also this chestnut from Dierdorf on Sunday: "There is no doubt now that Brad Childress is an offensive mastermind." He also castigated fans for booing when the Vikings settled for a field goal at the end of the game. Also, Dan Dierdorf has AIDS. It's true. He has full blown AIDS and you shouldn't touch him unless you want his AIDS breath on your skin.

Craig:

Is there a better movie theater snack than popcorn with a box of Bunch A Crunch thrown in? My high ass has yet to find one.

Craig, as you may have surmised, was recently kicked out of the Kwik E Mart for sneaking Jolly Ranchers onto his donut.

Stephen B. Awesome:

Since you know shit, I figured I'd ask you this question about Halloween. My wife and I have a child who is ready for his first time trick-or-treating. When this happened with your daughter, did both you and the wife go with her? Or did one of you have to stay home for other trick-or-treaters? If we do both go, I'm considering buying a terrible candy to put in a bowl and leave at the door while we're out. Is this the best solution? And what terrible candy would you recommend that is bad/cheap enough that you wouldn't care if it was gone? Because we know someone will just take the entire bowl for themselves.

Congratulations, buddy. You are about to be FUCKED. My kid never ate fucking candy until her first Halloween. Now, EVERY FUCKING DAY, it's all, "Can I have a lolly? Can I have a lolly? I can have a lolly." No, you can't have a lolly, you little shit. YOU ARE BANNED FROM CANDY FOREVER. Halloween is just another example of the world fucking parents over. I had this kid under firm control. Now I have a lollipop stalker. God DAMMIT.

Anyway, my wife and I both went with the kid trick or treating in a large group of other kids and parents. Someone usually brings beer, which is awesome. I like drinking enough during trick or treating to not care whether or not my kid gets nailed in the dark by an oncoming motorist. At the beginning of the night, you stay close to the kid and try and rein them in. But after a six pack, you'll happily let them scale pool fences and disappear for hours at a time. It's a delight.

I leave candy out in a dish at the front stoop. Most every kid who trick or treats early is accompanied by a parent who will fucking murder them if they try and take more than two pieces. And even if someone did hog all the candy, I could give two shits. That's candy I don't have to worry about anymore. Whatever you do , DON'T GET SHITTY CANDY. Kids aren't fucking stupid. They'll leave that shit and stick it with you for eternity. Don't think you can get away with leaving out Smarties, or plain Hershey bars, or rusty razor blades. You'll never get rid of it. The whole goal of Halloween is to have no candy left at night's end.

jimmyu72:

What's up with all the frosting the put on cupcakes now? If I wanted that much buttercream, I wouldn't bother with the cake part.

You're complaining about extra frosting? What are you, a fucking Mennonite?

Ryanreal:

Once I asked George Wendt, "What's the best candy?" He replied "Caramel and toffee." Your thoughts?

Together? In some sort of Skoramello product?

It's hard to single out one candy as a favorite above all others, particularly if you're as girthy as George or myself. I enjoy all of it. But you know what's a solid candy that doesn't get a lot of play? Chocolate Reisen.

Oh, Chocolate Reisen. I will make chocolatey love children with you.

Jessen:

The UPS guy is a Creative Director at The Martin Agency. I don't know which I hate more. The ads, or the jackass he cast to star in them... Himself.

I was aware of this, and have actually seen Andy Azula walking the streets of Richmond on occasion. The story is that Martin Agency couldn't find an actor who did the whiteboard stuff as well as Andy did. That's a standard ad world trick. "Christ, none of these guys can do it as well as me. Tell you what, guys, why don't I do it for you? You'd only have to pay me SCALE AND A HALF!"

Bobby Big Wheel:

Have you ever had pumpkin beer? To paraphrase Dave Attell, it's for when you're thinking, "I want to get drunk, but I also want some pie." You'd love it.

I got a lot of pumpkin beer recommendations this week, a couple weeks after getting bitched out for having an apricot beer in the Jamboroo. So to recap: Fruit-flavored beer = gay. Gourd-flavored beer = acceptable.

Adam:

If you google Will Leitch and cat pee, you get over 5,000 results.

Drew Magary and cat pee yields over 260,000 results. My name and cat pee gets 18,000 results.

... and that bastard published a story about cat pee.

Yes, but google Leitch and Ankiel pee, and you get over 5,000,000 results. DON'T IMAGE SEARCH IT.

ZP:

As I'm sure you read The New Yorker, whilst casually sipping of the finest port, you're familiar with Malcolm Gladwell's new article about how linemen are basically guaranteed brain trauma, and no doubt you're familiar with the recent wave of studies saying the same thing.

I didn't read it, but I assume it all ties in with the mating habits of Chilean llamas.

I've always between a little uneasy enjoying a sport that exposes its players to such injury, but before these recent reports I could at least plausibly tell myself that the risk was limited to really serious blows, and that hopefully some new helmets would fix most of the problem. But now it turns out that even limited-contact practices are a non-returnable ticket to dementia.

How do you personally deal with this sort of unwelcome knowledge?

I don't. LALALALA CAN'T HEAR YOUR SPINE SNAPPING LALALALA

I'm sure you're not boycotting the NFL anytime soon, but do you feel guilty? Watching the games this week, I kept wincing on every snap and mouthing "Easy, easy!" to the players.

No, I don't feel guilty. I don't even think twice about it. Those players are compensated handsomely to bash each other's brains out for my amusement. And thankfully, once they become old and infirm and punch drunk, they're cloistered well away from the public spotlight, so that I may conveniently ignore the devastating effects of the Faustian bargain they have stricken. Good stuff. LET'S WATCH THAT WESLEY HIT AGAIN. IT WAS DIRTY AND ILLEGAL AND THAT'S WHAT MAKES IT SO VERY SEXY.

Donovan:

Help a fellow father out? How do I change a shitty diaper when my daughter is kicking more than a kangaroo on crystal meth! Do I need some sort of crane to hold her feet up? Now that her arms are longer, she can reach down and grab a nice, big handful of iron laced, black gold.

Oh, that's the worst. The second they grab that poop, it's all over. And the little fuckers NEVER stop turning. They won't stay on their back, even if you try and nail them to changing table, which I've attempted. Your only hope is a distraction. Give the fucker a toy and pin them down with all your might.

Brian:

Fuck the Jersey DMV for calling it the MVC when the rest of the world calls it the DMV, sperm burpers

Maryland also doesn't call it the DMV. They call it the MVA. I assure you this is a cheap branding exercise, because they think the initials DMV connote negativity and changing the initials will somehow lesson the blow. WORDS ARE EVIL THINGS, PEOPLE.

Ethan:

Just writing to say that I ate this shit called Pasta Al Forno, which is rigatoni with vodka (cream sauce), meat, and an insane layer of cheese. It tasted like an orgasm, but my stomach is about to say fuck this shit and explode all over the fucking place.

Do you subject yourself to unhealthy fare like me at such an alarming rate?

Sure do! Like Louis CK says, "I eat until I hate myself." Every weekend, I eat and drink until I feel like my heart is going to burst into flames and send boiling plasma shooting through the rest of my body. And I always swear to myself that I'll never be so piggy again. And then I take a Zantac and do it all over. HEY, SOMEONE DIDN'T FINISH THIS BAG OF CHOCOLATE CHIPS. THAT'S A MISTAKE THEY WILL SOON REGRET.

Bellwether Johnson:

I have eliminated home shitting. Completely. I now shit exclusively at work. My friends can't understand this, and despite my very well thought out and salient points (of which I will shortly espouse), they continue to be dumbfounded by the very thought.

1.) I work in a small retail environment, which means that we get cleaning crews three times a week. Do you clean your shitter three times a week?? Fuck no, you don't.

2.) I only work with one other guy, which means only one other person is using my work toilet. I have the "public" toilet in my apartment, which means visitors are always pissing all over it.

3.) My body has adapted to a shit schedule that consists of one large post-lunch dump per day, which is glorious.

So what do you think?? This epiphany of work-shitting has changed my whole life, and yet everyone I talk to is so skeptical as to outright dismiss the thought as lunacy. I feel like Bill James circa 1981. Please help!

I once roomed with two other guys in a studio apartment in Manhattan, and one of my roommates steadfastly refused to take a dump in the place. He found the conditions appalling and saved all his pooping for work. Frankly, I think any male toilet snobbery is fucking stupid. You're a man taking a shit. You're already filthy in ways far too numerous to count. What makes you so important that you need a fancy shitter to unload in? I'll shit anywhere: restaurants, gas stations, home, the gym, at the stadium. My ass, which is repulsive, has no right to complain about anything.

Anonymous:

When I watch a show on demand, it saves automatically for 24 hours....Showtime, as you probably know, has soft core porn on demand. I happen to like free porn so I watch it when I can....since I also put on a lot of my son's shows from on demand...if I accidentally forget to manually erase my DVR, sometimes I'll go to the saved feature and it will look like this:

Sesame Street
Mickey's Clubhouse
Lust Sessions
Super WHY

Needless to say, it's sort of embarrassing when say, the babysitter is over and puts on TV for my kid.

No Happy Scrappy Hero Pup?

Robbie:

Oh what I wouldn't give for DirecTV. I'd gladly take the couple minutes of disruption here and there over the daily ass raping I get from Time Warner. My cable bill is $150 a month. ONE HUNDRED FUCKING FIFTY A MONTH. It's high crime. This is bullshit. Not to mention I can't get the Sunday Ticket. So I'm forced to watch Broncos games in the company of drunk, middle aged, overweight, douchebags in replica Steelers jerseys pounding leaky nachos and yelling. These assholes have taken over every sports bar and it's hell. HELL. So fuck you and your winey disruption in your palace in Maryland. Stop turning into Peter King.

Good response. Lofty response.

Fogg:

Here's an item to add to your unknown/surprise benefits of having a kid: wiping your ass with baby wipes vs. regular toilet paper. Unbelievable. Pre-kids, a perfectly good shit could be ruined by an extended wiping process. I'm talking about those ones where you keep waiting for the toilet paper to come back clean, it never does, and you finally just say fuck it and pull up your pants.

Baby wipes cannot be defeated by even the worst wipers. It's like taking a shower after every shit.

I too enjoy using baby wipes (Daulerio also swears by them when shitting). Very cool and refreshing, AND they prevent chafing. Also, they're excellent for scouring for dingleberries, because you get a better crack feel with them. One time I caught a berry that was the size of a RAISIN, I tell you. I could have had it bronzed. Looked like a Furby. BUT BEWARE. Baby wipes don't degrade in water the way toilet paper does, which can end up clogging your pipes and forcing you to pay some plumber to snake the toilet. I know some people who use baby wipes and then throw them into the garbage afterwards, and that is sickening.

Rand:

For the second day in a row, I am making for a late breakfast/brunch/work from home special:

leftover pork loin
fried up
with diced potatoes
mixed later with
salsa verde
and
jalapenos
left to simmer, then adding
three-to-four scrambled eggs
thus tying the whole thing together
salt and pepper to taste

Rand wrote it out like that. I think he was trying to make it look like a poem. Best goddamn poem I've ever read.

It's the kind of thing that makes me so happy while I'm eating it that I am alternately praising myself for the concoction while also trying to simply enjoy it. Ever have that problem?

Yes, and my wife always gives me shit for it. I'll cook something and then, as I'm eating it, I'll keep saying, "Damn, this is REALLY fucking good," or "I think this turned out well," or some other insufferable shit like that. If I could bang a pot of chili while eating it, I would. AND I HAVE.

The Yankees contacted the visiting clubhouse manager of every stadium where they play and asked that the candy and ice cream be removed before the team comes to town. The clubhouse in Tampa Bay replaced all the candy with nuts, dried fruit and granola. It was hilarious to watch as guys smuggled in candy bars and ate them furtively at their lockers.

It's easy to picture this if you think of Joba Chamberlain as Hurley from Lost.

Other ways you know the Yankee candy ban is serious:

• Instead of cork, hollowed-out bats now contain Reese's Pieces.

• Mussina doctoring pitches with chocolate hidden under brim of cap.

• Peppermint jocks.

• Steinbrenner laying off Oompa Loompas right and left.

• Jason Giambi tests positive for nougat.

Eat Healthy, Play Better? [LoHud Yankee Blog]