My beloved baseball team may not be participating in the Fall Classic, but it is still autumn, and I’m doing my damndest to be happy.
The pumpkins are real. They’re shiny because I have to spray them with acrylic to keep the squirrels and other varmints from making a meal of them. I accept that it’s a losing battle.
I don’t know what these two are laughing about. Maybe there’s humor in death. The dogs, meanwhile, are not smiling.
This is how you end up when you don’t have any burial insurrance. Maybe he should’ve paid closer to that Colonial Penn commercial.
These guys did have burial insurance. But I have to be honest; I’m not seeing the upside.
Many years ago, Kathy asked, “Would you mind building a coffin?” So I rounded up some spare plywood in the garage and got to work. The coffin stands 5′ 3” tall. Any guesses on how tall Kathy is?
No good horror movie ends until a hand pops up through the ground. Hey, even the undead are entitled to an occasional free feel!
This pumpkin is not real. The squirrels leave him alone.
And that concludes my Halloween decorations for 2026. Now, can anyone spare a Butterfinger? I couldn’t find any at Sam’s Club.
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