Hell on Earth

Well the Family Fred Halloween Bash hit the fan last night and went off without major tragedy or loss of life.

The guest list included nearly 100 of the most preeminent adults and children in the greater Long Island region. In other words a fucking mob scene here at La Casa de Fred.

The forecast called for heavy rain which would have added to the disaster of upwards of 50 candy-amped kids tearing through the house. Luckily the Gods were gracious once again this year and kept the precipitation to an on/off again drizzle. Kids stayed outside and some of the drunk parents were even able to coax up a huge bonfire with the help of a can of lighter fluid. This gave the kids a chance to chase each other around the yard with burning sticks. Nothing but good, clean fun here at Party Fred.

About half way through the evening one of the hotcake moms in attendance began invading Moveitfred's egg space with a slurred dialog about whether or not Moveitfred ever imaged his life turning out "this way"--suburban address, packed house of other minivan families and kids, soup, men holding wine glasses, a "craft table" out back. In other words, a complete catastrophe. (Moveitfred thinks there were ulterior motives to this intimate exchange, but that's for another time).

Here's the thing. First off, Moveitfred jacked off big time for about the first 30 years of his life. This current situation, Moveitfred believes, is simply a swinging of the pendulum. Nothing to stress about. It's all a big game of balance, man. Next, Moveitfred has learned there are ways to negotiate these tragedies. Last night was a perfect example.

See all this, Moveitfred means ALL this, got Moveitfred on the wife's good side. Moveitfred was a Host-fucking-Master last night. He served cheese and crackers, led packs of kids through the Haunted Room of Death, introduced Dr. Igor Von Choppingblock and his blood-soaked skit of horror, replenished the soup, circulated the estate with idle chit-chat bullshit, even...poured wine.

So long about midnight as the freds were helping the last of the tottering, drunk parents find their kids Moveitfred's wife embraced Moveitfred with heartfelt thanks for all his help. That's when Moveitfred pounced:

"Gee, thanks honey. Say, y'know how the kids have soccer all day on Sunday? Is there a chance you can handle it, cause, y'see, there's this cross race in Jersey...."

Moveitfred scored the big win on that one. He got the ok, roared into the office, powered up the Gateway, and sneaked in with his reg just before the deadline for the Craigmeur on Sunday. Nice.

Red Shorts

Please help Moveitfred. These same red Oakley mt bike shorts keep coming up on one of those Quick-buy-it-now-cause-we're-gonna-put-another-piece-of-shit-up-for-sale-in-about-three-minutes single item web deal sites.

Please vote and help Moveitfred decide:

____ 1. These shorts rock. Nobody wears cranapple red--Moveitfred will be peeling chicks off his svelte physique wearing these.

____ 2. I've seen you, Moveitfred, and these shorts, although dapper-dandy, are not you. Wait until the same model comes out in Madrid Stone or Morning Eggplant.

____ 3. These shorts are ugly as hell, but who cares when you're out in the woods.

____ 4. Moveitfred is an idiot. These shorts are stupid. Why do I waste my time coming to this blog?

Cold Titties

Moveitfred got out on the cross bike for a couple of hard workouts these last two days. A little cool out there, huh? Finally some fall weather here in the NE.

Yesterday Moveitfred did an epic three hours. Charged some hills, rode over to the local beach and plowed through the sand for a spell, then visited ghetto cross course and did a final 40-minutes of redlining. Got rained on several times, and by the end of it all Moveitfred noticed a perceptible chill in his frontal region.

Moveitfred is very sensitive, and even the slightest drop in core temperature is cause for alarm.

But Moveitfred went home and had some warm tea and split pea soup, and although he suffers from a mild tingle in his throat today he thinks he will be OK.

Hey, thanks for reading.

This Is Some Scary Shit

Moveitfred Is Ready To Kill Someone

Out here in Suburban Hell there seems to be this new fucking annoying holiday trend going on.

Ghosting.

Yes, that's a verb. To begin, how fucking annoying is that?

For those of you lucky enough not to know, here's how it works:

Some fucking cheery family gets together and fills a bucket with candy and other annoying shit. Then they print out/photocopy the same fucking note that everyone else seems to be using. Says something clever like "Boo! You've been Ghosted! Now it's time for you to Ghost two other families in the neighborhood!" They tape the note to the bucket, put on dark clothes, creep around the fucking neighborhood and up to your door, drop the bucket on the front step, ring the bell, and run like hell.

Family fred has been "Ghosted" the last two nights.

Time to set the traps and put an end to this crap.