The Wearing of the Condiment. Happy Halloween!

Disclaimer: This blog post contains somewhat graphic references to certain condiments and the wearing thereof. Reader discretion is gleefully advised.

In the grand tradition of generations that have gone before me, I have donned a Halloween costume and paraded around town with the express intent of mortifying my offspring, yes.




Note: Thank goodness for the Internet, which allows me the ability to embarrass not only my own offspring but to mortify tens, if not hundreds of other innocents who are simply minding their own business and googling about the appropriate and safe use of condiments.

This Halloween is the first time that I have ever worn a condiment.

Note: Simmer down, everyone. If you can't take the mustard, then stay away from the picnic, if you know what I mean.

Additional Note: How can you possibly know what I mean? I do not even know what I mean.

To accompany the Condiments, the Wealistic Wubber Chicken makes his Halloween debut. He is dressed as a sandwich, yes. Please note the bun.




Note: Although he is a sandwich, he does not require the wearing of a condiment, because he is made of wubber, you see.

I am done. My offspring are mortified. Mission complete.

Happy Halloween!

Heck, yes!


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