Monday, November 1, 2010

All Hallow's Eve Report, 2010!

The eve has come and passed us already, dear humans—how did you choose to revere the glorious dead? On Friday the 29th, I dressed as the Marquis de Sade, observed gender interactions, and choked a few people with a whip; it was delightful. On the night of the 31st, however, I chose to honor the corpses by applying ghoulish (and greasy) make-up to my face and filling a bowl with a huge volume of sugary goodies for trick-or-treaters.
SPOILER: This will become my supper.
You see, this was my first year living in a house—not a dorm, not an apartment, but a real damned house (albeit a dark, decrepit, creepy-creeper house). I had always been under the impression that a real damned house in a neighborhood (dogs poop in my yard and everything!) meant unyielding hordes of trick-or treaters, and there are few things that I love more than terrifying younglings as I throw cavities at their greedy face holes. Also, cable television is superior during this season; however, I do not have cable at the moment, but alas!—dvds exist! After sliding in The Abominable Dr. Phibes, I sat giddily in my chair, waiting for the swarms of bag-toting tots to arrive.
Pictured: a happy Mister Half Face
Two hours, a sunset, one awesome mustache and several bizarre deaths later, I still sat with an almost untouched (I needed movie noms) bowl of candy in my lap. During this time, I had eaten three Snickers fun bites and survived a surprise nosebleed. I had also accidentally rubbed much of the grease stain off of my face. I sat, looking like an auto-mechanic/crack whore mutant (still scary, right?!), and pondered where the trick-or-treaters could have gone. I’ve seen them out and about on non-Halloween days, screaming their stupid heads off and riding their bikes right behind my car as I’m shifting into reverse. Now where were they? Conspiring? To do what? What?! TELL ME.
Pictured: an uhappy, paranoid Mister Half Face
My holiday message to the little conspiring anti-trick-or-treating shit heads: Happy fucking Halloween. I hope a ghoul eats your dog and throws it back up on you, then urinates inside of your gaming consoles. Jerks.