Fishbelly 86 onions

The Boomer-rama Halloween Extravaganza was spectacular. I prepped with these:

One of these things is not like the other...

so obviously, the night went well. And oh man, the Boomers went all out with the decorations, our little hell out in the middle of the desert was vibing serial killer in a creepy motel. I mean the jury's still out on omg but since he refused to attend, the vibe descended into random stuff flapping around in the wind, styrofoam tombstones tumbling around the patio, Halloween inflatables bopping to the music.

Really, the scariest thing I saw was this:

A blue stripe on the flag would have made it scarier. 

TBH, it was a grand time with friends beyond the Boomers, some new, some old, some really old. There was chicken with sauce from a bottle, some surprisingly good potato salad, and the traditional trio of holiday pies. Everyone shared booze, bowls, and belly laughs (I do the alliteration for the Boomers who read this, it's not self-indulgence), brawling on the court of the swing-your-balls game. Basically, a nylon stocking with two tennis balls, then tied around your waist to resemble a low-hanging scrotum, one used to knock across the concrete, back and forth over the playing area.

Amazing everyone but myself, I totally excelled at the game, no one even came close to the four shots I took to cinch it all. In the den of the Trumpist teabaggers, my teabagging was superior by far. In fact, I handicapped myself with a couple of teeny shots of Jaeger before strapping on my ballsack and showing everyone how it's done.

I'd share more but PB never shared their pics. All I have is this, close to the end of the night, every pretty much drunk and stoned:

My ear hair is really the focus of this pic.

The guy on the right is Chris wearing his fat old guy sitting in the bleachers at Dodger's Stadium costume. He's an ex-resident here in Hell and gets invited to our gatherings. Chris loves his conspiracy theories, a conversation that lasts about five minutes before I have to grab another drink or take a leak or go wandering around looking for pigeons.

 I wasn't terribly hungover the next day (1334 hrs when I arose), highly recommended, will do it again next year.