What’s up with dressing like a total whore on Halloween? I don’t get it, and probably never will. Sure, I have to admit that one year I happened to go as a French Maid. I was in 8th grade. I wonder to this day what possessed my mother to let me dress up like this and go to school in the costume. Perhaps she was convinced that my fat, round body would protect me from danger. I remember feeling so sexy (which is scary since I was only 13) and being positive that everyone was going to think that I looked like hot shit.
There’s a picture of me in that costume, and all I can think of now is: good lord, I was a plump little bastard. Why on earthdid you think you looked good? You looked like a little fat girl trying to dress as an adult. And kudos to you for your choice of NEON PINK socks with your white Keds. No, really, nice choice.
It’s been ages and ages since I dressed up for Halloween. The last time, I dressed up as white trash: denim skirt, black stockings, white shoes, blazer, teased hair, and horrible pink lipstick. The worst part was that I actually left the house looking like that. Why, God, why? After that year, I only went out on Halloween one other time. Amber, Disney and I chose not to go in costume-which was just as well. We dragged ourselves downtown, parked our asses on a bar stool, and proceeded to mock the public.
Most of the girls we saw were dressed as slutty versions of nurses, doctors, fire fighters, school girls, secretaries, blah, blah, etc., blah. My guess is that some of them were solicited and offered $5 for a quick BJ behind the bar. I’m sure more than one of them agreed to this exchange.
I vowed to myself to never ever go out on Halloween again. I couldn’t handle all the whores and drunken douche bags who kept asking what I was supposed to be. I’m too old for that shit, and am perfectly happy locked in my house with some popcorn and some scary movie. Sadly, this weekend I will have to break the vow I made so many years ago. Tomorrow night I’m going downtown with Lola. Saturday I’m supposed to be going to a costume party with the Ruddy Sailor (you can suck it, Foxy), and with Lola. Herein lies the problem: I have no idea what to wear. Furthermore, I don’t even want to dress up and I don’t know the people throwing the party.
Christ, when did I turn into such a stick in the mud?? Hmm…maybe that’s what I’ll go as. I can wear all brown (representing the mud), and glue a stick to my shirt. God, what a lame flipping idea. I really am a stick in the mud.