Buckle up, fellow Americans. The caravan is on its way.

Any hour now—any minute—hundreds if not thousands of tiny masked weirdos will spill into our neighborhood streets, invade our porches, bang down our doors—and change the face of this great nation forever.

There’s a strange chill in the air—can you feel it? Beth says that’s just the time of year, but I don’t think so. Feels different. Like the calm before a storm of tiny weirdos dressed like Elsa from "Frozen."


Beth says I’m making mountains out of molehills, but does she spend all day in the basement keeping up with the news? No, she does not. Says she’s too busy changing my sheets and organizing my pills.

Dale gets it—says the whole thing scares him to bits. “We have no idea who these little people are,” says Dale. “What houses they coming from? Nothing.”

Beth says most likely they mean no harm. But I’m like, how can you say that when you don’t know who “they” is? I heard reports they’re armed with eggs, toilet paper, pebbles from the driveway—you name it. Well, Beth heard that and got real quiet.

“What kinda eggs?” says Beth.

I told her hop to it and bring me the AK.

Well, she might be scared, but not me. Tell you the truth, I’m P.O.’d. These tiny weirdos are out to take candy away from deserving Americans. Our people are wanting Tootsie Pops. Our citizens need Hot Tamales. And they're about to go to a bunch of Trick-or-Traitors?

Not on my watch.

My neighbor Phil’s like: you better relax before you kill your damn self with a heart attack. Well, I told Dale that and he just laughed. “Phil’s the kinda guy who leaves an untended bowl of candy on his front porch with a handwritten sign that says: ‘Please, take one only.’”

Other day I looked away from the TV and saw an autumn leaf drift by the skylight: just this bright, beautiful shade of orange. Made me think of our President. After dinner, Beth reads to me from his Twitter, which I find soothing. Last night he wrote: “These tiny losers MUST BE STOPPED! I have placed an executive order to scoop out the contents of Mitch McConnell’s head, light a candle inside, and leave it on the White House steps! This is a NATIONAL EMERGENCY!!!”

As you may imagine, I slept well that night.

Beth tells me Kimmy, the gal who does her nails, says Trick-or-Traitors are just, “little kids having fun.” They been doing this every year for as long as she can remember, says Kimmy, and she’s never had an issue. In fact, most of them are, “real polite.”

Well, I practically choked on my Jell-O when I heard that.

“Listen,” I tell Beth. “You come to my house dressed up like a Wolfman Ewok gypsy ghost, who’s to say that’s not exactly who you are? You telling me behind every mask there’s an innocent little kid with a sweet tooth?”

Mainstream media nonsense.

I for one am not about to waste my time wondering if behind all that face paint there’s an actual human being.

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This week, viral photos from the first day of school in various Georgia counties showed students crowded together with few masks in sight. Schools in the same area had to shut down entire classrooms due to positive tests after the first day back, quarantining students and teachers for two weeks.

In these counties, students are "encouraged" to wear a mask at school, but they are not required. Mask-wearing is referred to as a "personal choice."

This week, a private Christian college in a town near where I live announced that is planning to resume in-person classes this fall. The school has decided that students will not be required to wear masks, despite the fact that the town itself has a mask mandate for all public spaces. "No riots. No masks. In person. This fall," the college wrote in a Facebook post advertising the school last month.

The supposed justification for not requiring students to wear masks is that it's a "personal choice," and that students have the freedom to choose whether to wear one or not.

That's a neat story. Except it is totally hypocritical coming from schools and school districts that have no problem placing limits on personal choice and freedom by mandating stringent dress codes for students.

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As you sit down to eat your breakfast in the morning or grab an afternoon snack, take a minute to consider your food, how it was made, and how it got to your plate.

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Sounds simple, right?

The truth is, that process is anything but simple and at every step in the journey to your plate, harm can be caused to the people who grow it, the communities that need it, and the planet we all call home.

For example, thousands of kids live in food deserts and areas where access to affordable and nutritious food is limited. Around the world, one in three children suffer from some form of malnutrition, and yet, up to 40% of food in the United States is never eaten.

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I saw this poster today and I was going to just let it go, but then I kept feeling tugged to say something.

Melanie Cholish/Facebook

While this poster is great to bring attention to the issue of child trafficking, it is a "shocking" picture of a young girl tied up. It has that dark gritty feeling. I picture her in a basement tied to a dripping pipe.

While that sounds awful, it's important to know that trafficking children in the US is not all of that. I can't say it never is—I don't know. What I do know is most young trafficked children aren't sitting in a basement tied up. They have families, and someone—usually in their family—is trafficking them.

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via The Hubble Telescope

Over the past few years, there has been a growing movement to fight back against some of the everyday racism that exists in America.

The Washington Redskins of the NFL have temporarily changed their name to the Washington Football Team until a more suitable, and less racist, name is determined.

The Dixie Chicks, a country band from Texas has decided to change their name to The Chicks to avoid any connotation with slavery, as has Lady Antebellum who now just go by Lady A.

(Although they stole the name form a Black woman who has been using it for over 20 years.)

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