October 24, 2011 § 1 Comment
I was getting in the spirit by reading through some old posts when it occurred to me that TIB is over one year old! We didn’t throw a proper birthday party or anything. Anyway thank you to all the readers who keep hitting up the site. If you are so inclined (which I hope you are), please wish a happy belated on her facebook page.
I thought it was appropriate to re-run last year’s Halloween post today, so everyone can learn a thing or two from All Hallows Eve past.
The spookiest night of the year is kicking off another lonely holiday season. Let’s see what normal occupation I can slut up this year… What was once about scary is now about sexy. Really, most of the costumes you find in Halloween Super Stores that pop up for those six sacred weeks before the day of dress up are starting to offer what looks more like bondage than a nurse or a witch or a pirate.
Even a hooker couldn’t walk in those ruby slippers. And who knew the Mad Hatter made such a good drag queen? Dear God, I don’t remember any of the cast members of Harry Potter dressing like that. I can honestly say, I have never met a bumblebee with so much cleavage. If sports officials looked like Hooters Girls, I don’t think there wouldn’t be much of a game. Will the real Playboy Bunnies please stand up? With fishnets, platforms and a Miracle Bra, you can be anything. It’s like a stripper’s closet exploded.
We are all aware that the slut-o-lantern lights up in front of every single lady’s door this time of year. Screw carving a pumpkin, I need to figure the proper wind chill to alcohol ratio in order to determine how much skin can I show without being too cold. The only thing that’s putting on a costume is my chest. Throw a badge on my nipple and I’m an officer of the law.
Every year, men are more and more likely to get laid at a Halloween party. The naughty angel hikes up her skirt and tosses her halo to unleash her forbidden sexuality while the girl with the animal ears wags her tail and more. What kind of animal? Does it matter? Guys everywhere time break-ups to occur right before this day in order to take advantage of all the ripe pussycats. Meow. A couple years ago, my relationship was one such casualty.
Personally, I love Halloween not because it’s an excuse to unleash my inner whore; I go there too regularly to save it all up for one night. I like to take a more traditional approach and go 100% in the opposite direction, bananas and beavers (yes, I’ve been both, neither were sexy). My 2006 Wicked Witch of the West had complete strangers coming up to me asking to take my picture. Needless to say, I get a little excited when dreaming up a costume. Naturally, when I found myself with a BF for the holiday I started brainstorming couples costumes. What’s better than a Willy Wonka accompanied by an Oompa Loompa? Starting the first of September and not a second later, I began flooding his inbox with my suggestions. Will you please be the bacon to my eggs? The bolt to my nut? The Fred to my Wilma? The plug to my outlet? The spoon to my fork? Not exactly a subtle approach. Big mistake.
We had been dating for a while, long enough to assume making plans one month in advance was perfectly reasonable. And we were practically living together, there was no escaping me. He darted the issue going white as a ghost when I brought it up, executed a couple impressive disappearing acts, and even claimed that he was not that into dressing up. Excuse me, bud, but I did go through your tagged Facebook photos at least two years and it seems to me that you do like Halloween. What you like even more is sporting a mustache and taking pictures with the sluttiest getups of the night. He wasn’t tricking me.
Somewhere around October 10th and my list of 101 famous movie couples, he broke it off. Being tied to me through costume would ruin this holiday for him, surely. I spent the next two weeks baking and eating an unghouly amount of pumpkin bread. I spent Halloween watching a Rosanne marathon with my head in a bowl of fun-sized candy bars. I wasn’t asking to dress as a bride and groom wedding topper, but he couldn’t take the pressure. I suppose it saved us both bullshit Christmas presents and an awkward Thanksgiving. But be forewarned, if he’s resisting going as a pair, he doesn’t plan on giving out any treats later on.