Well aint this about a motherfucker
originally posted on October 26th 2005 after hackers took down my original website, assholes
This week is turning into one of those pissed in my cheerios weeks. I have the insatiable urge to dress midgets up like circus clowns and then use a bat, covered in nails, for batting practice on their lumpy little heads. Normally Halloween is my favorite holiday. The week leading up to Halloween is always a blast because I usually spend it picking out my costume, and planning exactly how much alcohol is needed to sufficiently inebriate a large African elephant (because the sober ones are unruly and difficult to dress up like senator Barbara “I’m an aging hippie who won’t let it go, and a raging cunt” Boxer”). Speaking of Barbara Boxer; how does this bleeding heart, flapping vagina of a public servant keep getting re-elected. I found a picture of her in a Halloween costume from a couple of years back.
This picture proves two things that I always knew about her:
One: She’s Depraved
Two: Barbara Boxer is really a man.
Unfortunately this week has been a royal, flaming, pain in the ass. It started with having to move on a last minute, break neck, holy fuck me notice; reached a messy crescendo with me puking for an eight hour drive up I-5 from Southern California, and culminated in my webhost getting side-fucked and my site going down. (which is why I am temporarily using this blogspot thingy) I will say that after making fun of Barbara Boxer, and looking forward to the Halloween parties I have planned for this weekend, I do feel a bit better. I’ll put up pictures of the parties and my costume after this weekend. But back to the reason for this article: Halloween. When I was a wee little ankle biter Halloween was great because it meant my friends and I could run around, late at night, hopped up on copious amounts of sugar, acting like a bunch of half crazed window lickers with anonymity because we were unrecognizable to the world at large. No one could catch us because it’s hard to tell police that you’re house was just tp’d by a ten year old sized Spider-Man, Optimus Prime, a fireman, and Batman. Oh the joys of being a tiny little shit head.Halloween, over the years, has always been a milestone for me. Though about the only thing noteworthy that I can remember right now is having sex for the first time on Halloween when I was sixteen. I’m sure some more significant incidents have happened on those dates but I can’t remember them right now. At 25, Halloween still holds a significant amount of fun for me. But rather than getting hopped up on sweet tarts and bite size snickers now the long running plan is to get drunker than fuck-all and do something stupid. The thing I like best about Halloween is the costumes. Some people, scholarly people, would say that folks like me enjoy costumes because it gives us a feeling of anonymity. They would liken it to living in another skin where the rules or, more importantly, the consequences do not apply to us because we are not living as ourselves, but rather our temporary alter-egos. Actually, I made all of that up, see, I can sound like a pretentious ass-hat too. The Great thing is that guys get, basically, two choices for costumes: Funny/Clever or scary. That’s pretty much all we get. I guess, in looking at it though, there’s really not a whole lot of choices other than that. As Evidenced by the following pictures
A Pimp outfit I thought to myself, I’ll be so clever. Atleast we didn’t beat the shit out of each other like chicks do when someone wears the same outfit.
I go for “creepy”, he goes for “huge cock” god damnit.
I want to have a talk with this kid’ parents.
And my personal favorite of “look how clever guys can be”:
But even better than that is that girls get one choice.
Why be a nurse when you could be a slutty nurse? Why be a cop when you could be a slutty cop? (and any girl who has ever been a slutty cop always has to make a joking/flirting comment about the costume coming equipped with handcuffs).
I’m fairly certain that this is the same girl in each costume, but if it’s not, I’m curious as to what it would cost for all five of them to come to my Halloween party and mud wrestle. Actually, now that I’ve relived Halloweens of the past, stared at the slutty images of Strawberry Shortcake, Little Red Riding Hood, and Alice I think this week can only get better. Maybe next year I’ll have a How To Kill People (dot) Com costume contest with prizes going to the Cleverest and Sluttiest costumes. I think I’ll give out booze as prizes.
-Travis