A Dark and Stormy Night in the Kiddie Pool
It was always a highlight of my year—plopping down in a Victorian wingback with a frosty beverage and basking in the brilliant badness of the winning entries in the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest—named after Edward “It was a dark and stormy night” Bulwar-Lytton as "a whimsical literary competition that challenges entrants to compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels."
So it was a real punch to the inkwell to learn that the contest has been suspended. Founder Scott Rice writes that, “Being a year and a half older than Joseph Biden, I find the BLFC becoming increasingly burdensome and would like to put myself out to pasture while I still have some vim and vigor. … Rest assured we're keeping the BLFC spirit alive by maintaining our archive for posterity so that generations and generations hence may witness your greatness!”
Who knows? Maybe someone will one day pick up the torch and revive one of the most enjoyably goofy literature-oriented contests ever, for which we owe a big THANK YOU to Scott and his daughter EJ. In the meantime, since it’s Halloween, enjoy some entries of yesteryear from the Fantasy and Horror category...
The townsfolk were approaching the castle holding flaming sticks ready to express their displeasure with the monster that the scientist within had supposedly created from various cemeteries in the area, and as the crowd got within sight of the castle, bloodcurdling screams filled the night because the flaming sticks they carried were too short and the flames were now burning their hands.
—R. Blanton, TN (2023)
If Vicky Walters had known that ordering an extra shot of espresso in her grande non-fat sugar free one pump raspberry syrup two pumps vanilla syrup soy latte that Wednesday would lead to her death and subsequent rebirth as a vampire, she probably would have at least gotten whipped cream.
—M. Coffman, LA (2015)
Evenin’, Eddie.
Cthulhu awoke from loathsome dreams of gangrenous decay and the foul stench of congealing viscera, lifting his pulpy, misshapen head to find what foolish supplicant had roused him to yet another age of fear and creeping dread, but found his bloodthirst unslaked, having been brought to consciousness not by horror-filled screams of human sacrifice but by his little sister’s overly dramatic wail of “Cthulhu’s touching me!” from her side of the family station wagon’s back seat.
—E. Williamson, WA (2024)
Thunder crashed and the wind howled in a driving rain as the ancient witch raised her hands toward the moon and with increasing desperation chanted the words of a spell that her recently unearthed Book of Charms had assured her would restore her to youth and beauty but so far was just riling up the weather and getting her wet.
—B. White, PA (2019)
Upon his death, Van Helsing wrote: “This Vexes me still to-day . . . with no Mirror able to cast his Curs’d Reflection, how did Dracula comb his hair so perfectly every time and achieve such a clean, close shave that brought the babes in truckloads??”
—D. Hicks, NJ (2021)
Two of the heads of the ghastly mutant creature known as Son of Triceratops had stayed up all night debating whether their dentist really did deserve the plaque awarded to him that day by the Royal Association for the Prevention of Monster Cavities, whilst the third head, having already made up its mind on the subject and recognizing the importance of a good night’s sleep, nodded off early.
—G. Donaldson, Australia (2017)
You can read the full archives, including all the grand prize winners through the years, right here. Preferably while a dog barks in the distance.
And now, our feature presentation…
Cheers and Jeers for Friday, October 31, 2025
Note: Just a heads-up that there will be no C&J on Monday, as we will be attending our annual gallivanting license-renewal seminar. Back Tuesday with a certificate of completion and a bad case of windburn. —Mgt.
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By the Numbers:
Starts tomorrow!!!
Days 'til election day: 4
Days 'til the start of San Francisco Restaurant Week: 1
Size of the Fed's interest rate cut Wednesday: ¼ point
Minimum monthly cost of the Republicans' government shutdown: $7 billion
Increase in sales from Starbucks' coffee delivery service in the 4th quarter versus a year ago: 30%
Percent of Americans who give two pieces of candy to each trick-or-treater, according to CNN: 50%
Percent of Americans who say they'd consider buying a haunted house, but only if it was being sold below market value: 57%
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Puppy Pic of the Day: A modest request...
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CHEERS to November! Tomorrow begins thirty days of madcap madness: Veterans' Day, Guy Fawkes Day, Dia de los Muertos, Dag van de Dynastie, Dia de la Revolucion Mexicana, St. Andrew's Day, Buss und Bettag (50% off strudel 'til 4pm), the full “Beaver Moon” (the 5th), and Thanksgiving (seems late this year—the 27th), but not before we turn our clocks back this weekend.
Even during an off-year, Republicans can do a ton of damage if Democrats don’t turn out. So please do.
If the polls are accurate, Democrats, marching in lockstep with an army of independents and Republican defectors, will hoist their middle fingers at both the MAGA fascists and the media lapdogs Tuesday to start building the anti-Trump firewall we need ASAP.
If we survive all that, open enrollment for Obamacare will continue for the coming year until January 15th. (But if you want coverage to start on Jan. 1 the deadline is Dec. 15.) I got my first premium estimate yesterday, and unless Congress restores the covid-era subsidies my premiums will go up by a factor of four. Is America great again, or what?
As for November movies, Knives Out 3, Wicked: for Good, and Zootopia 2 (the DMV sloths are back!) appear to be popcorn-worthy sure bets.
Howard Dean and Guru Nanak (and I’m sure a few others) celebrate another birthday, and Scorpio turns the reins over to Sagittarius on the 23rd. Busy month! Pass the Red Bull—and then someone tell me where the hell summer went.
CHEERS to a gouda outcome in the Land of Wooden Shoes and Cancer-causing Windmills. You already know how f*cked-up-beyond-repair our country is. Come…take my hand and let us travel to a magical country with universal health care, paid vacation time and maternity leave, green energy, and a place where the people have pulled themselves from the brink of becoming…well…us:
Congratulations, Holland. You’ll soon be the proud home of the World’s Sexiest Leader. (Sorry, ladies, but he bats for my team.)
The centre-left D66 party has made huge gains in the Netherlands’ general election, with it likely taking the lead in government formation talks as the far-right Freedom Party (PVV) haemorrhaged support among voters.
The results marked a sharp fall for PVV leader Geert Wilders, sometimes known as the “Dutch Trump”, from a record showing in 2023, while D66 made the biggest gains and almost tripled its seats. […]
Whatever the final result, Wilders is virtually certain not to be prime minister, as all mainstream parties have ruled out governing with him. … The result instead opens a path for D66 leader Rob Jetten, 38, to form a government as the country’s youngest and first openly gay prime minister.
Great job, defenders of parliamentary democracy! We're sure Holland will be in very good hands. We now return you to rotting, grey hands of our dear leader, of whom even the ghost of Hitler once said, "That boy ain't too bright."
CHEERS to getting an extra hour of sleep. Daylight Saving Time ends at 2am Sunday. (Yes, you must stay up 'til 2am to change your clocks or else DST won’t end properly and you'll have to destroy all your clocks, buy all-new ones, and start over, according to the Association of American Clock Sellers.) It's the usual routine: If you're a Democrat, turn your clocks back one hour. If you're a Republican, turn your clocks back 300 years and then go viciously attack a minority in the name of Jesus.
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BRIEF SANITY BREAK
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END BRIEF SANITY BREAK
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JEERS to Republican shills on the bench. On tomorrow’s date in 1991—which now lives in infamy—Clarence "Hellooo!!! Did Somebody Say Porn??" Thomas took his place as associate justice on the Supreme Court. In 34 years, he's barely uttered a sound from his perch. But a dozen years ago his tea-party activist wife, before she helped plan the Jan. 6 insurrection (but after she and hubbie courted their favorite Nazi-obsessed American billionaires to lavish them with lives of luxury in exchange for favorable rulings from the bench), apparently made up for all that silence by making creepy, harassing phone calls to Anita Hill from inside her liquor cabinet. That's the great thing about marriage: teamwork.
CHEERS to home vegetation. There's one single leaf still hangin' on for dear life in the backyard, and I refuse to start raking until it drops. So until then, it's weekend boob-tubage. As always, MSNBC is the place to go for details of any Friday night news dumps. Or at 8 you can live-skeet the classic Star Trek Halloween episode Cat’s Paw (H&I Network) at Blue Sky hashtag #allstartrek. Former ambassador to Russia, Mike McFaul is the guest on PBS’s Firing Line at 8:30. And there’s a new episode of Penn & Teller: Fool Us starting at 8 on the CW.
Two teams. And only one of them will walk away this weekend with giant “#1” foam fingers on their hands.
The most popular movies and streamers are all reviewed here at Rotten Tomatoes (nothing that tickles my fancy this week). The NHL schedule is here, the NBA schedule is here, and the NFL schedule is here. But the big sports event is Game 6 of the World Series tonight at 8 (Fox), during which the Toronto Blue Jays could win it all. (If not, game 7 is tomorrow night.) Miles Teller (Whiplash, Top Gun: Maverick) hosts SNL with musical guest Brandi Carlile
Sunday night on 60 Minutes: reports on “longevity medicine” and rare earth elements. Marge and Homer have to make a big decision about Bart on a new The Simpsons. And at 11 John Oliver pours a lovely cup of tea and hosts a fresh edition of HBO’s Last Week Tonight.
Now here's your Sunday morning lineup:
Meet the Press: Governor Gavin Newsom (D-CA); Steve Kornacki with a new NBC News poll.
Also: Nosferatu shows up to give our current president an A+ for sucking the life blood out of a country.
This Week: Senators Ed Markey (D-MA) and Tim Kaine (D-VA); Secretary of Oh Look Another Plane Is Falling From The Sky On My Watch Sean Duffy; New Jersey candidates for governor Mikie Sherrill and Ciattarelli.
Face the Nation: Senator Mark Warner (D-VA); Secretary of Destroying the Department of Transportation Sean Duffy.
CNN's State of the Union: Senator Kyrsten Sine...oops, I mean Senator Joe Manchi...oops, I mean Senator John Fetterman (D? R? Who knows?-PA); House minority leader Rep. Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY); Secretary of Destroying the Treasury Department Scott Pissant; former NYC Mayor Bill de Blasio.
Fox Fascism Sunday: Porn app savant Mike Johnson (Fascist-LA); Senator Tim Scott (Fascist-SC).
Happy viewing!
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Ten years ago in C&J: October 31, 2015
JEERS to Ronald McBlam! Yesterday shots rang out at a McDonald's restaurant in the sleepy Maine hamlet of Lewiston. Apparently there was some kind of argument. A man apparently started squeezing off rounds at another guy at the drive-thru in anger. (One bullet hit the tire of a car in which a mother and her child were sitting.) But the gunman told police the shooting was completely justified, saying that the other guy tried to kill him first by taking him to eat at McDonald's.
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And just one more…
JEERS to no-shows. On this spooooooky night, we note that Harry Houdini died 99 years ago today—yes, on Halloween—but not from one of his death-defying magic tricks. It was a ruptured appendix…but spooky nonetheless:
Houdini was 52 years old when he died, the exact number of playing cards in a deck. Further, he was born 26 years before the start of the new century, and died 26 years into the next one—as if his "life's deck" had been deftly cut in half by Fate, the ultimate magician.
After I die, if you smell Twinkies you’ll know I’m in the vicinity.
For a full ten years after Houdini's death, his wife Bess conducted a séance on October 31.These séances were always attended by the top names in magic, as well as personal friends of the great magician. Houdini had told Bess that if it were possible, he would send a message to her "from beyond" in secret code. Though Bess herself stopped participating in the séances after 1937, members of the magic fraternity have kept the tradition.
If you're conducting a séance tonight and you smell burnt cannoli, you'll know you've erroneously reached Antonin Scalia. Dog shit? Pat Robertson.
Have a great weekend. Floor's open...What are you cheering and jeering about today?
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