Warning: if this is the first time you’re settling in to read something I’ve written, don’t. Come back tomorrow when I’ve gotten myself back on track. Seriously. You’ve been warned.

Okay, so I had this whole other thing I was going to write but today, October 14, 2011, is the date of the Portland Timbers’ last regular season home game. Coming into the season as a fairly casual observer of soccer, but not really a fan, I honestly had no idea I would have gotten so caught up in all of this. I love the game, I love my team, I love nearly every fan in the stadium (with the exception of Asshat McDoucheypants who sits across the aisle from me when he bothers to show up). This match is occupying a lot of my brainpower right now and I’m much more emotional about the whole thing than I probably should be so I’m going to attempt to skip into the October Thought and call it good. But there, look. All of a sudden I have 150 words relating to you my undying love of the Timbers. Rose City ’til I die.

See? That’s exactly what I didn’t want to do. We should be talking about October. Leave the sports writing to the folks that can actually write sports.

So, we’re going to go with something simple because, as evidenced above, I’m distracted and slightly ridiculous.

Candy corn.

That’s right. Candy corn. What’s more October than candy corn?

Here’s the Wikipedia page. I’m stupidly amused by it because, honestly, it looks like someone lifted most of it from past years’ October Thoughts on the subject. Not that I mind. It’s important information that all people should have access to. Candy corn is October’s lifeblood.

***Did I mention that Sal Zizzo is opening a food cart in Portland? No? Well, he is.***

Years back, I found a quote somewhere online that called candy corn the “crack cocaine of the confectionary world.” Truth. It’s too sweet. It’s made of corn syrup in most cases. It’s bad for you. It will rot the teeth right out of your head if you’re not careful (ha! much like crack!) And there’s no way you can stop after the first one. There is no substance known to man that’s more addictive than candy corn.

Why do I not have any right now? How the hell did this happen? I’m writing about candy corn with no actual candy corn in sight. I’m blaming this on Mike Chabala. Although there’s the possibility that Pete Lowry as already eaten all of it since earlier this month he tweeted that if he’d been eating carrot sticks at the same rate he was eating Halloween candy, he’d be orange by Halloween.

Candy corn used to be one-size-fits-all. Not so much anymore. There’s the traditional, the Indian corn (with the chocolate-flavored part), caramel apple-flavored candy corn (don’t do it, trust me) and about a bazillion other kinds. You can get it year-round now in colors that coordinate with whatever the nearest holiday is. Red and pink for Valentine’s, pastels for Easter, red, white and blue for Independence Day.

But I’m a traditionalist. Make mine plain – orange, yellow, white. And I don’t want the fancy Brach’s candy corn. Just gimme the cheap, waxy stuff.

Then, if you do want to get all fancy, make me some of these: Candy Corn Butterfinger Pops.

***Time out for me to imagine a Darlington Nagbe cross to Kenny Cooper and the possibility of the KCHT.***

That’s really all I’ve got. Go get yourselves some candy corn. Share it with your friends. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.

Did I mention we’ve got a guy with a chainsaw?

And this guy? I love this man.