Freaking in the Rigging

Welcome to Hallow'eve!
As soon as I got to work, I struggled into my wetsuit and started rigging my boat. I have made 2 buddies there, but later in the day I made 2 enemies as well when I found them unzipping my rucksack and pilfering a £10 note.
Much staff activity followed, with parents in on the conference call. What's a cavity search?
Anyway, one of the older kids asked if I was famous because they stumbled onto this very blog, possibly by Google image-searching. I said no, but give it time.
We picked up the laundry from the very expensive laundrette (they're all very expensive now that My Beautiful Laundrette on Albert Road with the relaxed attitude, curvy chicks and cheaper prices closed down) and when we bought milk in the Co-op I was just using it as a bazooka to kill all humans when the moistened handle escaped my sweaty grasp and it flew across the room. Because I was told off I got in a big mood which didn't really dissipate until the chocolate course after supper.
Today is the day of the annual pumpkin tragedy. No, not spice, not the entirely talent-free carving, but that this house has no compost heap for the spludgy bits you pull out of the middle. The next house will.
I'll just take a short 23-hour break, and I'll be back.