A note from the author: Happy Halloween. ---The authors
What we’re dressing up as this year:
Jake is dressing as Slutty Joker.
Sam is dressing as Crying Slutty Joker.
Other costumes we’re still considering include: very formal nurse, very formal dermatologist, very formal dentist, very formal podiatrist...
Trick Or Treat Secret Menu
Did you know that there are secret menu items for Trick-or-Treaters this year? Check out our favorites below:
Want some popcorn on October 31st? Instead of saying “trick-or-treat,” try saying something like, “I’m going to a movie after this… maybe Arctic Dogs, maybe Joker again... and I really need a buttery snack to wash it down.” The homeowner will go inside and heat you up a bag of Pop Secret for keeps.
Some really cool houses hand out wicked brews on All Hallows’ Eve to kids. Just ring the doorbell, hand them your fake and say “It’s Miller Time somewhere.” Now you’re on your way to getting soused on this special, spooky night.
Have a dentist for a neighbor? Chances are, you’ll probably be getting a toothbrush!
Have a dentist for a neighbor? Chances are, you’ll probably be getting razor blades in your candy!
Bring a dog with you when you go Trick-or-Treating! You may get some free dog treats off the secret menu!
Jake & Sam’s Nightmare Bomb:
Imagine you’re in a tornado. Swirling around. By yourself. An endless loop. Talk about a nightmare.
Jake’s experience with mice:
Last week, I was going about my nightly routine of taking a swig of Nyquil and jumping into bed. Sleeping conditions were perfect: sirens blaring all around, couples fighting on the street, and other people screaming for no known reason (still looking into this).
But then, I heard a rustling noise.
This isn’t comforting, I thought, as I sat up in bed. I walked over to turn the lights on. As I looked down at my feet, I saw a mouse scurry across my floor, and I screamed. I learned a lot about myself that day.
Naturally, my scream woke up Josh, my roommate. My other roommate Jordan stayed fast asleep. Josh and I huddled together and came up with a plan to excommunicate the mouse. We set up three cardboard boxes in my doorway and put a blueberry in each one. The goal? Get the mouse to run towards the boxes, then flip up the box when it goes for the blueberry. Genius. A humane way of problem solving this nightmare.
But this mouse was no silly goose. He was Jerry-level smart. As I rummaged under my bed to make him scurry away, he went straight for the blueberry. But instead of going for the blueberry, he jumped straight over the box. This mouse was no Jerry. He’s a modern day Bo Jackson.
After taping the tiny opening at the bottom of my door, I was able to get a good night sleep. But this was not before we discovered there was a dead mouse living with us as well. None of these jerks are chipping in for rent. The dead mouse resided behind the stove, but Josh and I decided this was a dilemma for a different evening.
The following daybreak, Jordan’s boyfriend came over and eagerly asked if he could see the dead mouse. This was the most excited I have ever seen this guy. He proceeded to pull back the stove and grab the dead mouse. He held it up proud and exclaimed, “it’s decaying! It caved in on itself!” Josh responded by saying politely, “Get that out of my face!” The boyfriend asked us what he should do with it, and we yelled at him to put it in the trash. Then, Jordan walked out of the bathroom, and we told her she missed a lot.
This past week I have learned a lot about mice and Jordan’s boyfriend. Every experience is a learning experience.
Jake is hosting a new open mic at the PIT attic (123 East 24th st) Every Saturday 6PM!
He’s co-hosting with the amazing Ryan Shah. Sam will often be in attendance as well.
Global warming is still a current issue. Plant a tree today.
Update #3: I got an email from the NYU Hockey team saying they were desperately in need of someone to sing the national anthem at all home games. I immediately replied that I was eager to fill the spot. After sending another follow up email, I still have not heard back.
Review: Trader Joe’s Gingerbread Haunted House
Today, I will be reviewing the 2019 Trader Joe’s Haunted House Chocolate Cookie Kit.
Whoever made that house must be a cookie carpenter… It looks fantastic
I started by assembling the base of the house, attaching the walls and the roof, and half-assing some frosting on top.
Oh look... A new ghost neighbor!
Overall, I thought it was a bad cookie in both taste and texture. It did not have chocolate chips in it like the name would suggest and the cookie was too thick and stale for my liking. The cookie also made the cardboard very oily, so I could not recycle the box. It took me 4 weeks to eat alone.
Dr. Jake’s Tips
Stay away from candy and spiders. Chocolate and Jolly Ranchers are okay.
Reader Emails: No emails this month. Not blaming anyone, but seriously…?
Questions for readers:
Email us at email@example.com
Guide to Halloween Candy
Halloween is just around the corner and candy is flying off the shelves. Here is an easy guide to what candy your children will enjoy this Halloween season.
2 Reese’s Cups
More Important October NEWS:
We actually found one more picture of the two of us together. We don’t look great, but here we are.
A brief history of Spooky Season:
Halloween is an annual holiday celebrated each year on October 31, and Halloween 2019 occurs on Thursday, October 31. It originated with the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, when people would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off ghosts. In the eighth century, Pope Gregory III designated November 1 as a time to honor all saints; soon, All Saints Day incorporated some of the traditions of Samhain. The evening before was known as All Hallows Eve, and later Halloween. Over time, Halloween evolved into a day of activities like trick-or-treating, carving jack-o-lanterns, festive gatherings, donning costumes and eating sweet treats.
Speaking of fake student ID’s (see August issue of Jake & Sam’s Monthly Email Bomb), Jake has some other news. With the help of the nice people at New York University, he was able to change his student ID. His online identification has had many modifications in the past year, but it just seemed right to officially change his name to the name of his wonderful boss, Angela Juarez. Here is a photograph of his one and only university ID:
This is a pumpkin that I carved. It was rotten on the inside since before I carved into it, so I threw it out that night.
By Jake and Sam
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Pigeon of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Pigeon wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Pigeon “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Pigeon, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
But the Pigeon still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Pigeon “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Pigeon “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Pigeon “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Pigeon “Nevermore.”
And the Pigeon, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!