Alright, since we are coming down
off our airplane glue high lets gets on with the last Bleeding
Brains candle review. Oh you thought I misspelled 'gets' when
it should have been 'get'. Well, Mrs. Polly Grammar, when you
are high off airplane glue you can type whatever you'd like and
get away with it! Flong Dong Su Flick Towel!
The last gory bastard we have to
take a look at is the skull candle I have nicknamed Guido. Why
Guido? Well, I had this Uncle Guido when I was growing up and
he used to joke with us all the time about being in the mafia.
Of course we never really believed him until one day when he came
back from Christmas-Town and wanted to decorate Halloween-Town
all up like Santa Claws. Wait, I think that was A Nightmare Before
Christmas. Yeah, the skull candle reminds me of the tall skeleton
fellow on A Nightmare Before Christmas who Sally had the hots
for. Yeah, his name was Guido, Guido Skeleenton. Here comes Guido!
Nothing makes a candle kick more ass than looking
at it and pondering your own demise. Hell, I bet in the last 2
seconds I looked at Guido I pictured myself in at least 17 different
death scenarios. Isn't Halloween great?
You can see the small chinese children who crafted
my skull actually took time to mold him just right with all sorts
of dimples and cranium cracks. I bet the little jerks were paid
on a per dimple basis and I can only hope their payment was a
jar of relish. Nothing says, "Thank you for your hard work"
like a jar of relish. Remember green ketchup from a few years
back? Me neither. Why do all of my articles completely suck? Why
do I suck? Oh yeah, I am a fat anti-social mongoloid, nevermind.
Like Dan Ketch hopping on his motorcycle and
touching the gas cap our skull candle is set ablaze and looks
even more ominous with a streak of fire coming off his shiny dimpled
skull. In the background you can see my kick ass kitchen "entertainment
center" with my stereo of doom lurking around like Jason
Vorhees at a foam party.
If you look closely under the plate and into
the depths of my stove top burner you can see a light shinning
eerily up from the nether reaches of my oven. It is really where
the rats of NIHM live, but don't tell anyone because they will
make me eats another gallon of mustard while reading them Garfield
comics out of the Sunday paper. I don't even get the Sunday paper,
but somehow those filthy vermin get it delivered inside the oven
like clockwork.
TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN OR YOUR GOING TO POP MY
EAR DRUM!! huh? Yeah, it looks like the sweet spot of Guido is
his special ear blood. At least his ear blood looks cooler than
that dumbass scream candle in the background mocking me with his
inability to melt. All in due time little scream candle, all in
due time.
It is like Guido decided to smash the back of
his skull on the curb instead of giving us blood tears or gore
mouth. I am sort of disappointed, but then I spotted that tar
pit in the wax and decided if I could swim through it I bet there
is another dimension waiting for me. Too bad the only part of
me that would fit through that is my pinky and he doesn't have
any eyes or ears. Stupid useless pinky.
This is the result of the second
skull candle I purchased. This one did not disappoint, but I had
to put the Ashlee Simpson CD, I found on the sidewalk out front,
into the kitchen entertainment center on repeat for nearly 6 hours
before I got these desired effects. The sad thing is I had already
jammed a latch-hook needle through my ears before I noticed the
great effort the skull candle was making to be scary. Don't cry
for me little skull candle I can still eat myself to death in
a matter of years!
The End
BONUS CRAP!!
Look at what divorce makes you
feel like:
Divorce makes you feel like a Chicken McNugget™ with giraffe
legs and tyrannosaurs-rex arms. Divorce also makes you wear chintzy
gaudy pink sweaters that went out of style when Rudy Huxtable
was 9.
-LaVarious
10-27-04
