Friday the 13th Eve
I don’t know what kids do today, but back in my day Friday the 13th Eve (also known as Thursday the 12th) was one of the biggest and most evil holidays in the entire year. Even National Eyelash Grinding Day couldn’t hold a candle — especially an evil, enchanted candle — to the greatness and wonder that was Friday the 13th Eve (hereafter abbreviated FT13E, since it’s quicker to type.)
FT13E was a grand tradition, involving the blood of a baby unicorn, crushed dreams and hopes, and the dying words of a noble kangaroo. Mix all of those up in a Kitchenaide blender — preferably one that had been used to make banana smoothies earlier in the day — and you’d be treated to a fun little happy demon who would spring up from the depths of hell and make party balloons for you and all of your friends.
Sure, the party balloons in the funny shapes were often dripping with fresh entrails and stuff like that, but once everyone stopped crying it actually makes the balloons more fun. Who wants stale old unentrailed balloons? Not us! We’ve seen the future, and it’s full of balloons from our fun party demon.
I bet kids today do it all online with their Myspace and their Youtube and their cell phone based demon applets, coded in Java for maximum portability. No longer will they be stuck translating from FORTRAN into COBOL just to try to get some hell balloons. These kids probably just add Satan as their top friend on Myspace and text message all the cool demons to start up the party.
Or maybe they’ve all forgotten about FT13E, instead spending all of their evil Satanic party planning on Easter celebrations and Super Bowl parties. Those just aren’t the same thing, and I won’t rest happy until I see FT13E returned to its proper place, standing proudly at the end of a bowling alley wearing a funny little hat. That’s the proper place for it, not trapped in a restroom for 48 hours because it can’t find the doorknob.
Not to bring up unpleasant memories about last year’s FT13E celebration. I apologize for that. Let’s just get the party started and deal with the kids when they show up. They’ll either fall in line or be sentenced to 30 years hard labor in the styrofoam mines of Ecuador. Either way, everyone wins.