CURRENT ISSUE 11/11/03 Front Page Weekly Features Advice From Strangers Ain't That America? Globetrotting With Push Musing With Mitch Moth's Diary Info Previous Issues Crap Shop Who's at Fault? Contact Us! Aye, mateys! Get you some Daily Probe booty!	Saturday 1st November Halloween has come and gone, and all my work wasted, as the little blighters have dashed their apples in the streets, a complete waste of Kaopectate. Trick-or-treat etiquette has gone by the boards since my day, too, as today's youth merely grunt and shake their pillow cases, never bothering to thank. Many even moan at the sight of my tray of apples, the nasty rebarbative squirts. One remnant of my childhood remains, however, and that is the little orange box that gets shaken by these candy-hardened automatons just when I think I have done with them. Now, I've heard conservative commentators in the past say that giving to this seemingly harmless UNICEF drive puts blood on all our hands, as it teaches Third World societies that they don't need to be self-sufficient and then they eventually become dependent upon charity and their countries fall into famine and civil war, resulting in the deaths of millions. I part with such pundits, as I often do, by remembering social visits with past secretaries general of the U.N. at their retirement homes in Switzerland, Monaco, and Miami Beach. Such fellows have whole wings stuffed with these little orange boxes, and when the paperboy comes to collect on Friday, or when the pizza man comes, they shake the payment out of one of them into the deliveryman's hands until he is satisfied with the coinage. So I say give until it hurts. Leave the deaths of millions to the devils who kill them. There are vacationland pizza men who are even now counting on your generosity.
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