Happy Halloween!
Or, if you’re reading this tomorrow, Happy Day After Halloween.
For me, it’s happy for three reasons:
Happy Halloween reason 1: No sixth avenue.
I’m safely inside for the evening and have no reason to cross sixth avenue. The biggest mistake if you live in my neighborhood is to make plans that involve crossing or walking anywhere near the Halloween parade.It’s impossible. It takes an hour to walk one block through the press of spectators, and you risk getting stabbed with some unoriginal plastic devil’s pitchfork, or brushing against the bare skin of someone in a slutty costume from Rickys. Or, getting pooped on by a slutty french maid (see pic above).
Also, the cops and their pedestrian detours get me so indignant. “What do you mean I can’t cross at this corner? This is MY corner! I live on THIS BLOCK. I pay TAXES to live here. This is absurd. Fine, where’s the nearest corner where I can cross the stupid street?”
This issue raises my stress levels, which generates cortisol, which I’ve read makes the calories you eat turn instantly into fat. So the effects of any halloween candy is exponential. Best to avoid 6th avenue.
Happy Halloween reason 2: No costume.
I’m happily not doing anything that requires me to wear a costume. Costumes are a pain. I don’t need any extra pressure to show how creative I am. I deal with that angst every day, by writing for a living. It sucks. And I’m not into the sexy nurse/ kitty cat/ bar maid/ smurf thing, especially when it’s below 60 degrees out.
(Yes, there are sexy smurfs. Remember Smurfette? Think blue tits.)
I used to love costumes, but the best part was usually taking them off. Costumes are always either too cold or too hot, or they chafe, or cover your face in some inconvenient way. Your breath steams up and moistens the fabric, and you have to spend the whole night trying to keep the eye holes aligned with your eyes.
And then there are costumes that smell. My nose will never forget my dracula costume. It had a cape of dark-purple felt, which I thought would have more impact with blood stains on it. (I guess the idea was “Sloppy Dracula”.) So, having heard that ketchup was used for fake blood in movies, I poured a bottle of Heinz all over the cape.
Unfortunately, ketchup doesn’t show up on dark-purple felt. It just mats the fabric and makes you smell like hot dog.
I’m sure my mom’s glad I’m over costumes. I used to have her grinding away at the sewing machine working on mine as early as September. She was a one-woman sweat shop. Here’s one of her greatest creations.
See, there was an entire hole for my head and yet it managed to block half my face. How does that happen?
Also, what’s with my left hand? It looks like a lobster claw.
Happy Halloween reason 3: Candy
I’ve been trick-or-treating on the sly, taking candy from stores that have it out for kids.I already ate most of it, but In my shoulder bag, I’m hoarding a bite-size Snickers I snatched from the reception desk of an art gallery yesterday. The staff in art galleries don’t acknowledge your existence, so it’s really easy to take their candy without them giving you a look.
Oh wait, I already ate the Snickers. I have no candy. Now I’m sad.
At least I don’t smell like hot dog.
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You should worship your mother for all of eternity based on that costume alone! I can't believe you used the word “moistens”. I'm still recovering.
You're right, Kenny, I owe my mom big time. I should make her a nice, moist cake.
You should worship your mother for all of eternity based on that costume alone! I can’t believe you used the word “moistens”. I’m still recovering.
You’re right, Kenny, I owe my mom big time. I should make her a nice, moist cake.
Love it. I don't remember the ketchup incident but your retelling sure brought pee to my pants.
We went trick-or-treating tonight for Samson's first Halloween. We shamelessly brought a bag for the candy, as if we were collecting it for Samson. If the kid's too young to say “trick or treat,” he's too young to eat candy. And we are too old, but I still went back to that halloween hoarder's mentality. Couldn't wait till we got home to check out the loot. I don't have to pilfer in secret, cuz he's too young to know it's his. I got myself a Snickers.
That's awesome. I respect that completely. Can I borrow Samson next year? The art galleries don't look twice, but the other stores think I'm a creep for taking the kids' candy. By the way, you should breastfeed Samson and tell him it's nature's Milky Way. That's a fair trade for a Snickers.
Oooh, masterpiece, eh? Now that makes all the slaving over a hot sewing machine worthwhile. I liked making the costumes, but I didn't mind when the need stopped. I always liked Halloween, and of course I never stole your candy.
Yes, I'd call it a masterpiece. Second only to the chocolate chip cookie. You might have had some competition from Rachel B's mother, who made that bagel and lox. But otherwise, you were in a league of your own as a costume maker.
I know you never stole my candy. Taking it one piece at a time couldn't possibly be considered stealing.
I was only saving you from tooth decay.
I was an orange M&M probably that same year! Back when there was no such thing as a prefab M&M costume. The year before, I was R2D2 – with an upside down metal mixing bowl (with flashing lights installed) on my head.
Exactly – that kind of stuff you had to make. Wonder Woman, Spider Man, etc – those you could get at Woolworth's. But if you wanted something original, it was homemade all the way. Kind of the same now, since nothing from the store will ever count as original. But there's more choice for unoriginal.
Love it. I don’t remember the ketchup incident but your retelling sure brought pee to my pants.
We went trick-or-treating tonight for Samson’s first Halloween. We shamelessly brought a bag for the candy, as if we were collecting it for Samson. If the kid’s too young to say “trick or treat,” he’s too young to eat candy. And we are too old, but I still went back to that halloween hoarder’s mentality. Couldn’t wait till we got home to check out the loot. I don’t have to pilfer in secret, cuz he’s too young to know it’s his. I got myself a Snickers.
That’s awesome. I respect that completely. Can I borrow Samson next year? The art galleries don’t look twice, but the other stores think I’m a creep for taking the kids’ candy. By the way, you should breastfeed Samson and tell him it’s nature’s Milky Way. That’s a fair trade for a Snickers.
I used strawberry topping as zombie blood once. It looked good, but SO STICKY.
That would smell way better than ketchup. And not ruin french fries for you. OK, it didn't really ruin french fries. That might have been a blessing.
I mean, would have been.
Oooh, masterpiece, eh? Now that makes all the slaving over a hot sewing machine worthwhile. I liked making the costumes, but I didn’t mind when the need stopped. I always liked Halloween, and of course I never stole your candy.
Yes, I’d call it a masterpiece. Second only to the chocolate chip cookie. You might have had some competition from Rachel B’s mother, who made that bagel and lox. But otherwise, you were in a league of your own as a costume maker.
I know you never stole my candy. Taking it one piece at a time couldn’t possibly be considered stealing.
I was only saving you from tooth decay.
I was an orange M&M probably that same year! Back when there was no such thing as a prefab M&M costume. The year before, I was R2D2 – with an upside down metal mixing bowl (with flashing lights installed) on my head.
Exactly – that kind of stuff you had to make. Wonder Woman, Spider Man, etc – those you could get at Woolworth’s. But if you wanted something original, it was homemade all the way. Kind of the same now, since nothing from the store will ever count as original. But there’s more choice for unoriginal.
I used strawberry topping as zombie blood once. It looked good, but SO STICKY.
That would smell way better than ketchup. And not ruin french fries for you. OK, it didn’t really ruin french fries. That might have been a blessing.
I mean, would have been.