And that’s a wrap. No, I’m not talking about the writer and stagehand strikes, I’m talking about Thanksgiving. Gone as quickly as it came. Or at least as quickly as the land was taken away from the Indians by the white man. Gone. We throw a parade, eat some turkey, watch some football, and then it's over. On to playing the Christmas albums, decking the halls, and wearing our gaudiest sweatshirts with little bells and cats in Santa Claus hats. Ah, yes, 'tis the season.

This year was the first time in my entire life that I wasn't at home for Thanksgiving. Although I missed my friends and family and, of course, the traditional Fantasy of Trees, it was nice being able to just relax and enjoy the city. And by relax, I mean muster up the willpower to face the hoards of tourist at the annual Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I'm not gonna lie, it's better on TV than it is live. Because unless you hit the streets at like 4:30 a.m., you won't get a good enough spot to be in on the action. And if you were able to be a part of the action, that meant you had already been standing for five hours only to watch a baker's dozen of balloons and pep bands slowly float by. Trust me, it's more exciting on television.

So by now you're probably thinking that I'm a scrooge. And to you I say, "Bah, humbug!" So the parade wasn't that exciting. Sue me. You know what was exciting? Seeing my Tennessee Vols come down to my neck of the buildings and play basketball at the Prudential Center. Yeah, I was there. We beat West Virginia but got smoked by Texas. Oh, well, what can ya do? I'll tell you what you can do: check out another blog I started at http://www.joshlay.tumblr.com/. Fear not, I'm still going to be updating this blog, but with my other one, I can quickly throw up random pictures and whatnot. I also posted some Thanksgiving pictures on there that you should check out. Seriously. I'll know if you have or not. And if you haven't, I'll tell Santa. Once Santa knows, you won't get anything for Xmas but a bag of coal. And no one wants a bag of coal. No one. Except maybe a talking grill. He would definitely want coal. And perhaps his own TV show. And if the writer's strike doesn't end, he might get his wish.

Smell my feet, give me something good to eat. If you don't, I don't care, I'll pull down your underwear.

Ah, yes, inappropriate childhood sayings. No one wants to smell anyone else's feet. I don't care who you are. Unless maybe your feet smell like honeysuckles, then I might give the ol' critters a sniff. But other than that, forget it. So it looks like you're just going to have to pull down my underwear and make me exposed and vulnerable. Speaking of exposed, I saw plenty of exposed individuals at this year's Halloween parade right here in the NYC.

Not only did I see the parade, but I walked in it. That's right. Walked in it. There was a hellacious line to get into the parade, but once you were in, it was worth it. Forty blocks packed with people watching other people parade their costumes. Busses full of debauchery. Half-naked people making out and dancing on each other. Floats filled with DJs and porn stars (like Ron Jeremy). And then there was us common folk just walking down the streets waving to people. It was amazing. Some of the craziest people i've ever seen. Ever.

Of course, along with the Halloween parade came the Halloween parties. I went to a few myself. My lady and I went as Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick to a couple of 'em. And while we didn't share hypodermic needles and snort cocaine, I must say we looked darn good. People were hollerin' at us all night. I just posted a few pics in the media gallery. At another party, with a Nightmare Wedding theme, we dressed as a pair of rednecks. Back home people wouldn't have even flinched, but up here people thought we had the best costumes in the room. What can I say? Just showin' some love to the Smoky Mountain Flea Market.

So yeah, this Halloween was a success. Filled with parades, costumes and good times. But now that the tricks and the treats are over, I must leave you with a treat of my own. So for your viewing pleasure, here is the last Reality Check Cory and I did. Happy Halloween. A few days late. Okay, more like two weeks late. But hey, at least I didn't pull down your underwear. That would have been disturbing and not to mention against the law. Boo!