I’m finding it hard to contain the joy that this bit from Bojack Horseman has brought to my life.


Mr. Peanutbutter’s House [80s family sitcom] featured a pair of twins, Zoe and Zelda. Zelda was the sunny, fun-loving extrovert.

“Look at my pumpkin, Mr. Peanutbutter.”

“Pretty smile, Zelly-belly.”

Whereas Zoe was the smart, cynical introvert.

“My pumpkin’s throwing up because Halloween encourages excessive consumption of refined sugar at a time when obesity rates are sky high. Plus, Halloween costumes are a gateway to casual racism.”

“Why don’t I keep the knife, Zo-bo?”

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Not only does Zoe’s disdain for Hallowe’en align with my disdain for Christmas, as a kid I always made a pumpkin that was either throwing up or oozing brains out the top of its head from a lobotomy. Always with a frowny face, never smiling or scary. Always with a frowny face, never smiling or scary.

One year I took it up a notch and deliberately picked one that had a rotten patch, which I used to create leprotic sores all over my pumpkin’s face.



Also, people have been known to call me Zo Bo.

This alignment of brainwaves brings me no end of satisfaction.