This is what I came home to today. What the fuck is that?? Why is there a bag of shitty candy corn at the foot of my doorway? Holy shit if this is the apartment complex's way of telling me that we're opening the doors to trick or treaters this year I'm going to fucking lose my mind./hustles down the hall to check other doors. No candy.
//heads up to 3rd floor to do the same. No candy.
I shit you not, I stood there staring at this stupid bag of candy corn for a solid 5 minutes. Did I piss off the old people somehow? Is this like an IED or something? Is it poisoned? Is this some kind of sick joke since candy corn is the worst fucking candy ever? I'm telling you, I was fucking flummoxed.
After carefully examining the situation like I was on the fucking bomb squad I finally decided it was probably just a gift from our neighbor across the hall, the one senior citizen I like in this place. Jesus, Al, next time leave a note to tell me everything's ok like you did when you left the pears earlier this year (not that we ate those either, but still). I'm fucking terrified of the wrath of the other old people in this fucking place. Those old fucks on death's doorstep have nothing to lose!
And there's no way in mother fucking hell I'm eating this candy corn.
Wifey's take: Oh that's so sweet of Al to leave us that! I love him!
Wifey, you are way too trusting of the elderly.
