The Scout Chronicles: Nope, They Made Me a Fuckin’ Wizard

This was the bullshit of all bullshits.  I told these assholes I wanted to be a vicious Werewolf for Halloween.  And instead I get dolled up like some girly Gandolph.  I didn’t even get a fuckin’ staff to hit people with and perpetrate spells and shit.  My parents are the biggest cock-blocking idiots in Chicago.  Yes, I said cock-blockers.  Bitches at the local dog runs were swooning when I told them I was going to be a Werewolf.  Then I hear all the dogs barking laughter as I was forced to march around Old Town against my will as the Golden Wizard.  Even my little sister got to be a Bear.  Shit, compared to a Wizard I would have LOVED to be a bear.  She had claws and big feet and shit.  And she didn’t even care.  Cried when they put her in it, acted bored as all hell, then fell asleep as a bear.  If I’d gotten to be some ruthless predator of an animal, you wouldn’t have seen apathy like that out of the ol’ Scouter.  I would have been tearing shit up right and left.  I would have even shown people that sometimes a Bear shits in the city.  But no, I’m gallivanting about town like some dainty Merlin with my dick in my paw, not even able to smash people or put spells on them with my staff….because I don’t fucking have one.  You know, Scout gets pushed and he gets pushed, but for how far until he bares the teeth and makes them pay for their transgressions?  Now I’m going to be walked through Old Town today with everydog laughing their tits off at the Scoutmeister.  Just pigs in shit at my humiliation.  They’ll be barking, “Hey Scout, real fucking trail of blood and tears you left behind last night with that staff-less wizard costume asshole!” and “Scout, can I go ahead and tell my owners to put the silver bullets back into storage?”.  Laugh it up fuckers.  One of these Halloweens my inner Werewolf will be realized, and then you’ll all be sorry.  Mom was mouthing off about how “Scout, you are lucky, your best friend Penelope didn’t even get to dress up at all.”  That would be a great point mom….if Penelope wasn’t a fucking St. Bernard!  She gets to be Cujo every year of her goddamn life!

As an aside, one small upside to last night was that mom and dad let me stay up and watch the original Halloween with them.  Michael Myers is straight up LEGIT.  When I finally do get my Werewolf costume, that is how the Scoutmeister is going to go about his business, all methodical and shit with no emotion or barking. 

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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