If Twitter dies, let's all buy condos in the same complex, sit out on our patios, and scream our Tweets at each other.

Tomorrow is Monday. Tomorrow is Monday. Tomorrow is Monday. Sorry; I was just trying a reverse Beetlejuice thing.

Just to clarify, if I say to you, "Hey, babe. Wanna get porched?," I mean "Do you want to go to our rocking chairs situated out on our wraparound porch, imbibe some adult libations, read our books, smooch, and savor the sights and aromas of autumn?"

*Me, applying aftershave following a, you guessed it, shave.*

Peter, Peter, pumpkin seed eater.

Me: "I'm not ready to relinquish my hold on October and spooky season. Horror movies, ghouls, and candy.... It flew by. It's not fair." Also me: "Christmas tree will be up in about a week."

Not bad for my first ever attempt at pumpkin carving. ⚾🎃 Confession: There are two toothpicks in there because one piece snapped off and another piece wasn't staying in place. Otherwise, I'm happy with how it turned out.

Family-size box of Cheez-It. Challenge accepted.

Get out of my dreams, and absolutely get the hell out of my car.

Refilled my Halloween candy bowl so that I can eat it all again before Saturday.

Hear me out: A themed party, but it's us actually going back to 1996.

Dunkin' tastes better on a day off.

The stuff Frank the Tank confesses in his Trust Tree in the Nest counseling session pretty much is the Twitter timeline.

Not bragging, but it's pitch black outside before 7:00pm.

I don't have monsters under my bed, but I do have exercise equipment that I haven't used in a little while, so I think that's scarier. That kettlebell definitely wants to grab my foot at night.

Why don't you go Liberty Biberty your ass.

Does anyone know the diet and exercise plan that gets you into the toned shape required to play saxophone in an '80s vampire movie?

You know what I don't like? Everything that's happening.