You know nothing, Jon Snow.

As expected, this weekend was a lazy one, spent mostly on the couch. We saw a friend's band play at a local bar on Saturday night, but other than that, our only plan was to sleep in as long as possible. Mission accomplished. We also watched a surprising amount of sports, surprising even by our standards - a Pacers preseason game, Orioles postseason baseball, the first glimpses of Penguins hockey, and a Bengals tie. Yes, you read that right. The Bengals actually tied the Carolina Panthers.

The Walking Dead also made its long-awaited and completely satisfying return, so we spent our Sunday night the best way I know how: chewing our fingernails and screaming at Rick Grimes.

We also ate too many pumpkin cookies, nearly bought a pet fish, shopped at Good Will, ate at a truly disgusting questionable Chinese buffet (you get what you pay for), and contemplated our Halloween costumes. I had to talk this guy out of being Jon Snow from Game of Thrones.

On second thought, maybe I'll let him do it. I should probably start practicing my Ygritte accent now.
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Today's #Blogtober prompt is another tough one: Funniest Memory from Childhood.

So many ridiculous things come to mind, but my favorite is probably one that happened in eighth grade. I allowed Jenn to drag me to an Aaron Carter concert, in hopes that her husband Nick Carter would be there. At this stage in my life, the last place I wanted to be was an Aaron Carter concert and somehow, we managed to snag fifth row tickets. I brought a book to read and stood there, pouting with my arms crossed. About halfway through the concert, much to my embarrassment and dismay, Aaron Carter actually spotted me. In a sea of dancing, smiling teeny boppers, I looked like someone in line at the BMV. He stood there on stage, and in front of thousands of teenage girls, he crossed his arms and made a pouty face, openly mocking me. So now, I suppose my claim to fame is that I've been made fun of by Aaron Carter.