As the Halloween season approached, friends began brainstorming possible Halloween costumes, a subject I feel brings far more joy to Adult You than it ever did to Kid You. (Back then, costume choice wasn't such a make-or-break factor since your mom was just going to make you wear a jacket underneath it anyway, causing several a dickwad from the greatest generation to make some crack about not remembering the Terminator being so roly-poly.)
However, it soon became clear to me that my friends weren't brain-storming as much as they were pitching me their ideas to see my reaction. When I asked one of them why my reaction factors into anything, they told me they figured I was one of those who came up with really ingenious costume ideas.
This couldn't be further from the truth.
I guess since I'm generally a creative person, it's assumed that I apply extra amounts of that creativity to the holiday that greatly encourages it. Nope. Not at all.
When it comes to Halloween, I'm just in it for the booze and erections. (As opposed to my childhood days, when I was just in it for the candy...and erections.)
I'm ninety percent lazy when it comes to Halloween, which is why I was Austin Powers for three years, Dr. Evil for two, and Shaun of the Dead for three as well. (And the Shaun of the Dead costume was born out of a desire to get more creative on Halloween. Then nobody knew who I was. Essentially wearing a bloody business-casual look, the most popular guess was Scott Peterson)
This year, I decided, like countless others, that I was gonna' be the Joker. But, not regular Joker. I was Nurse Joker. That was my twist...as well as countless others.
I didn't care that I wasn't being original, my shit was off the chain as the kids say.
However, dressing up in drag did give me a better understanding on the plight of the female:
Much of their wardrobe is uncomfortable and inhibiting. I've never worn a skirt before, but it didn't occur me just how much pants I wasn't wearing until I wore a skirt for the first time. I had to don a pair of purple tights just so I felt I had something going on down there. (It also served the much more important job of Junk Containment)
The skirt being so short, I had to adjust my swagger, as I was never completely sure how much of my ass was showing at any particular time.
Speaking of my ass, it was groped by a man at the bar. Leaning over the bar, I felt a hand caress my booty, thinking it was a friend doing a round of Gay Chicken, I turned to see a man I had never met before. Once he realized I was a man, he shrieked, "Whoa! Not what I was expecting!"
Which -- what if I had been what he was expecting? Was I supposed to turn around and tell him that I've been waiting for this moment all my life, now let's away to the bathroom stall for hand jobs? At least buy me a drink.
He had to have known I was a dude, right? I mean, we don't live in a world where that's the ice-breaker?! Seriously? Ladies, is that what I'm competing against? If so, single women at my age are probably grading on a curve, which is going to be hugely advantageous for moi.
All in all, the costume was well executed and well received. I made children and grown women, who are probably legally children, cry. I had fratties tell me I was "awesome." And Justin, whom incessantly mocks my lack of Halloween originality, gave me high marks for authenticity.
Justin, by the by, went with my joke suggestion of the Domino's Pizza Noid, whom you should avoid.
It was hilarious -- if you were born before 1982. Everybody else didn't know what the hell that thing was.
Even when Justin barged into a Domino's Pizza and shouted, "GIVE ME ALL YOUR PIZZA'S!"
He was instead given total fucking silence until a fifty-plus employee in the bank quietly remarked, "Is that supposed to be the Noid?"
We slowly backed out of the Domino's, not bathed in laughter.
See. Too creative and you lose mass-audience appeal. So says me.
And, obviously, Hollywood.
However, it soon became clear to me that my friends weren't brain-storming as much as they were pitching me their ideas to see my reaction. When I asked one of them why my reaction factors into anything, they told me they figured I was one of those who came up with really ingenious costume ideas.
This couldn't be further from the truth.
I guess since I'm generally a creative person, it's assumed that I apply extra amounts of that creativity to the holiday that greatly encourages it. Nope. Not at all.
When it comes to Halloween, I'm just in it for the booze and erections. (As opposed to my childhood days, when I was just in it for the candy...and erections.)
I'm ninety percent lazy when it comes to Halloween, which is why I was Austin Powers for three years, Dr. Evil for two, and Shaun of the Dead for three as well. (And the Shaun of the Dead costume was born out of a desire to get more creative on Halloween. Then nobody knew who I was. Essentially wearing a bloody business-casual look, the most popular guess was Scott Peterson)
This year, I decided, like countless others, that I was gonna' be the Joker. But, not regular Joker. I was Nurse Joker. That was my twist...as well as countless others.
I didn't care that I wasn't being original, my shit was off the chain as the kids say.
However, dressing up in drag did give me a better understanding on the plight of the female:
Much of their wardrobe is uncomfortable and inhibiting. I've never worn a skirt before, but it didn't occur me just how much pants I wasn't wearing until I wore a skirt for the first time. I had to don a pair of purple tights just so I felt I had something going on down there. (It also served the much more important job of Junk Containment)
The skirt being so short, I had to adjust my swagger, as I was never completely sure how much of my ass was showing at any particular time.
Speaking of my ass, it was groped by a man at the bar. Leaning over the bar, I felt a hand caress my booty, thinking it was a friend doing a round of Gay Chicken, I turned to see a man I had never met before. Once he realized I was a man, he shrieked, "Whoa! Not what I was expecting!"
Which -- what if I had been what he was expecting? Was I supposed to turn around and tell him that I've been waiting for this moment all my life, now let's away to the bathroom stall for hand jobs? At least buy me a drink.
He had to have known I was a dude, right? I mean, we don't live in a world where that's the ice-breaker?! Seriously? Ladies, is that what I'm competing against? If so, single women at my age are probably grading on a curve, which is going to be hugely advantageous for moi.
All in all, the costume was well executed and well received. I made children and grown women, who are probably legally children, cry. I had fratties tell me I was "awesome." And Justin, whom incessantly mocks my lack of Halloween originality, gave me high marks for authenticity.
Justin, by the by, went with my joke suggestion of the Domino's Pizza Noid, whom you should avoid.
It was hilarious -- if you were born before 1982. Everybody else didn't know what the hell that thing was.
Even when Justin barged into a Domino's Pizza and shouted, "GIVE ME ALL YOUR PIZZA'S!"
He was instead given total fucking silence until a fifty-plus employee in the bank quietly remarked, "Is that supposed to be the Noid?"
We slowly backed out of the Domino's, not bathed in laughter.
See. Too creative and you lose mass-audience appeal. So says me.
And, obviously, Hollywood.
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