I want to say that I support breast cancer research and admire anyone who has had to deal with that disease. Cancer is bad. Fighting it is good. However, every time I drive by this display on Franklin Street, I feel like the pink thing has gone way too far:
Pink pumpkins? My drive-by photography doesn’t quite capture the grossness of these gourds. Closeup they look like they were dipped in a vat of Pepto Bismol or coated in pink nail polish, neither of which sounds delectable to me. They are the very definition of BLECH. Pink is nature’s way of saying, “DANGER! Do not eat!” Pink pumpkins are as unnatural as a sharktopus.
In addition, the witch in the top photo was probably strung up to make it appear like she’s flying, but it actually looks like she was hanged by Puritans for practicing her dark arts.
To sum up, this yard display does not get me fired up about either Breast Cancer Awareness month nor Halloween. It does get me excited about using my accelerator pedal to drive away. Any hate mail letting me know how evil I am for making fun of anything even tangentially cancer-related can be sent to thisaddressdoesnotexist@pastaqueen.com