LOS ANGELES, CA – Once again, spooky season has returned, giving me the perfect opportunity to finally come clean to the world: I desire to get boned (don’t even try it) by Jack Skellington.
I dream of someday getting that call. You know the call. The call to have a romantic evening in Halloween Town with our boy Jack. He’d sing a strange song, weirdly narrating everything we’d do. We would play with his dog. Jack Skellington has a dog. Sure, it’s like a dead-ghost-reindeer looking thing, but a dog nonetheless.
I can’t be the only one thinking this right? You’re telling me you don’t wanna get with the goddamn Pumpkin King? Yeah okay, let’s get you checked into a hospital for that head injury.
I mean who doesn’t like a tall man, right guys? Better yet who doesn’t like a tall one with a skeletal body and soulless eyes. I don’t know…maybe it’s just his passion? Like he wants to take over Christmas…Christmas! Can you believe that? He even kidnapped Santa Claus?! Sure it’s a little derivative (looking at you Grinch-stans), but still. The ambition.
I feel like as a society we all pretend that Jack isn’t a modern day heart throb. I see through these lies. I see how we all speak in code, dropping hints about our hidden love. Take any musician’s lyrics and you can see the hidden message. For example when DaBaby said, “My lil’ b**** act like Megan Thee Stallion. She ghetto and nasty, she drivin’ the boat”. This line is clearly a reference to when Skellington drove Santa’s sleigh (“boat”) in order to steal Christmas and bring it to Halloween Town. And the line, “She be throwin’ that ass, yeah, she good at it”. Um, yeah okay DaBaby make it more obvious. But seriously though, get in line.
Can’t someone dream? I just want a night with Jack Skellington, and if I am being honest so do most people. And to these people I ask: Why are you lying to yourself? What are you afraid of? We all want that skeletal touch of the man of our nightmares. Anyone who disagrees with me is a liar and a fraud. Call me Jack! xoxo 🙂