Halloween is one of the best holidays ever. You can purposefully terrify people and feed them fake brains or enough sugar to send them into a hypoglycemic coma, all while carrying around a skull and sporting a slutty costume with fake fangs and pretending to cast spells on people. At least that’s how I imagine most people celebrate the holiday. Probably.
Haunted houses and ghouls and goblins are just good clean fun because nothing about them is as frightening as things in the actual real world. Just watch the news – [and you’ll get some good ideas for clown costumes ] – much more terrifying than Zombies or meatheads walking around dressed as Duffman.
It’s great that Halloween managed to squeeze itself into Breast Cancer Awareness Month. All of the skimpy costumes that seem mandatory these days are really just a genius marketing tool by the pink ribbon people to practically screaming out – “I will make you aware of my breasts by exposing everything but my nipples tonight! Support a good cause”. Any costume can be reduced in size. I saw a costume advertised today for a Sexy Banana. True story. It consisted of a yellow mini tube dress. I fully support women who choose to sex it up- if you’ve got it, flaunt it. Just don’t complain you’re cold. What I do have a big issue with is the more recent sluttification of kids costumes. You know the ones – the French maid and skimpy witch costumes marketed to 8-12 year olds. If a kid is young enough to still be trick-or-treating, she is too young to be a Sexy anything, you creepy costume-maker perverts.
Looking back, my parents had it pretty easy. They didn’t have to worry about me dressing up as jailbait because I dressed as a non-sexy devil or a pirate more than anything else. I think it’s mostly because I really just enjoyed carrying stabby props. No, their biggest concern was trying to make sure I didn’t secretly stash a sizable portion of my candy haul away in my bedroom (to keep it from ending up in the dreaded and retrospectively democratic ‘family bowl’). Which I did anyway. Every year. I would hoard my Hershey’s miniatures like a deranged, rabid squirrel harvesting nuts for an apocalyptic winter dark age. I would stretch that candy out until almost Christmas. To this day I think my parents probably blamed my secret-sugar fueled uncontrollable hyperactivity during the months of November and December on pre-Christmas excitement. Even as an adult I find myself hiding things from myself so that I don’t have to share. Which is weird because there’s nobody else at my house to hide things from. Old habits die hard, I guess. Except nowadays I hoard wine instead of Milk Duds. Stop judging me.
Growing up, one family in my neighborhood ran a trick-or-treating hayride every year, taking us from house to house because some of them were damn far apart and hayrides are fun. One residence on my street gave out FULL SIZED candy bars. It was like the kiddy Mega-Millions jackpot that we all won every year. When the hayride pulled up to that house I would launch myself out of the wagon with the velocity of a daredevil shot out of a cannon, and sprint and squeal through the bushes like a meth-injected velociraptor to ensure that I would get the first pick. Looking back, it’s kind of amazing that I wasn’t medicated for ADHD until college.
This post probably had a point but I don’t remember what it was now. I got distracted by thoughts of candy corn and memories of Milk Duds. So I apologize for wasting 2 minutes of your life that you’ll never get back. Blame the GCFL “protector of the brand” for naming me the holiday correspondent and encouraging me to “write things down”… Happy Halloween.
(Original Post by Krugers Korner Oct, 2011)