The Pumpkins of Delaware: A Retrospective
[by Timothy “Timmy” Devigorerrazuriz | Nov 2nd, 2024]

The porch… oh, the porch. Just the thought of it sends this reporter straight to the ER… Are we reporters? Or are we just journalists. I mean, I didn’t get a degree in reporting. Hell, I didn’t get a degree at all. I’m only writing this article for class credit. I was honestly stunned when I submitted this article and Orulio accepted it. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Just the thought of it sends shivers down this reporter’s/journalist’s achy spine. And I say achy because I’m old now (at the time I wrote this I would have been somewhere in the neighborhood… but I moved long ago.) Age has thickened my soles, not to mention my soul. I wear a size fourteen… soul that is. I hope that’s clear.
Mavis, if you’re reading this, I’m speaking to you directly: STOP ASKING FOR MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE.
– Me
What’s this article about again? Oh that’s right. It’s not about anything. It was supposed to me journalizing on something specific, but now I can’t remember because you made me waste so much time talking about my shoes. Why’d you do that and who are you to make me do that? And also, who are you? I asked Orulio for an interactive element here, but they flatly refused on account of they don’t have the technology. Denied. Just like my feeble existence. Denied by UCLA, denied by Christ, hell, I can’t even get a job at Trader Joe’s. Do you know it’s actually really hard to get a job there. They require you to have like a lot of certifications. I had to Word certified just to apply, which is why I’m writing this stupid article. If you can believe it, I’m getting credit to IBCA right now. Mavis Beacon is personally overseeing this, and she’s a real bitch. Fuck, I’m pissed. Do you know Trader Joe’s requires a birth certificate? Where the fuck am I supposed to get that? I was barely born when I got mine, how am I supposed to hold on to that? Somehow, Mavis is behind this. Mavis, if you’re reading this, I’m speaking to you directly: STOP ASKING FOR MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE. At least let Trader Joe’s interview me before flat-out rejecting me on account of some piece of paper that probably doesn’t even exist. As far as I’m concerned, Timmy life just now starting.

Okay, I wiped my tears now. Ready for some journalizing? Okay, here goes nothin’: I’m coming to you live from the Delaware State Pumpkin Festival. Yep, the DSPF. Sit down and let your shrieks out before you continue reading. There’s a gourd on every porch. The porch… oh the porch. Bet you didn’t remember that THAT was how the article started. I used to play jacks on my front yard every day, and every day the TVs would turn off at exactly 9:00—The Lord’s Hour. I’m so old, but really, today is the first day of the rest of my life. Why? Because I’m at the Delaware State Pumpkin Festival. That’s right, the DSPF. And you know what, I’m actually really into it this year. The past few years have been pretty disappointing, I mean I have to go every year: it’s my festival. It’s actually crazy that this is my first journal on the subject considering that Orulio has been practically begging me to write one since I was paperboy delivering to everyone in town.

Oh, you didn’t know I was a paperboy? Well I was. Goes to show how well-read you are. I know the intellectuals reading this will already be well aware (huh… sounds like Delaware. Wonder why?), so they can go ahead and skip that last sentence. They should probably skip this one too, I wish their new paperboy would go ahead and toss this whole company in the sewers. He can toss himself in front of a 16-wheeler for all I care. I mean, really, sixteen wheels? I think even Mavis would agree that that’s just bragadocious. Did I spell that right? Oh God, I hope so. I really need a win.
Love, Timmy.
P.S. By the way… I know what you’re fucking thinking. I’m speaking now to the focus group that had too many questions about this article. Mavis, relax a bit, I’m not talking to you. Unless you were in the focus group, which would be very typical of your behavior. Actually Mavis, I am talking to you. Of course you were in the focus group. New paragraph.
Point is, there were a lot of questions about me traveling out of state to the festival every year because I don’t live in Delaware. I live in Baltimore. It takes AN HOUR AND A HALF to get to Dover, Delaware from Baltimore, Maryland. It’s not that far. It’s. Not. That. Far. Drop it. Check this map:

Love Timmy.