May I humbly suggest staying the fuck home?
Oh hello, are you a child person between the ages of zero and not-twenty or thirty something? Then Halloween is for you, please go about your business. Probably stop reading this site though. The rest of us are just going to have to suck it up and figure out some way to have fun on Halloween without playing dress up. May I humbly suggest staying the fuck home?
via but also every Halloween party ever. via that too.
It’s not like you’re even going to enjoy it if you go out tonight in costume. You know you aren’t. You’re going to be standing around in a hot club with facepaint sweating onto your tits, or walking through the city with your vag/balls/penis/butthole hanging out in the freezing cold because you really want to maximize the eyeball clicks on your “costume” aka /vag/balls/penis/butthole, or standing in some prick’s tiny apartment next to the box of cat shit and warm beer with a bag on your head. Fun, right? So much fun. “What did you say dude? I can’t hear you with this bag on my head.” The joke/novelty just isn’t worth it. “Oh ahah dude, Homer Simpson or whatever. That’s cool, anyway, let’s stand here for 6 hours now trying to relax with this shit on.”
Halloween is New Year’s Eve’s birthday. It’s St Patrick’s Day for everyone, but instead of only having to drink mad beers/fight/cry about how you drank too much/got in a fight, you have to spend the day as an apprentice seamstress/makeup effects artist as well as a background extra in a soft-core porn/city-wide zombie film. I don’t even think that’s legal under SAG union rules.
Don’t get it twisted, I’m not only talking about poorly-thought-out last minute costumes here, although those are bad enough. Good ones are suspect too. Maybe even more so. Even worse are the half-assed costumes people wear out of obligation. Putting hours of painstaking construction into building, like, a suit of armor from Halo and hanging outside the comic book store is a little bit much. Better off spending that time making a time machine and going back to a year when you weren’t so hopelessly alone.
No one likes the half-assed Halloween guy rocking some last-minute high concept meta costume that he has to explain to everyone at the party. You can’t just strap a cell phone on your dad jeans and walk around all night looking self-satisfied and say your costume is a Baby Boomer. You can’t wear your waiter apron and walk around asking anyone if you can get them another drink and say you’re going as a liberal arts major.
I don’t get it. Oh, he’s a “douche.” Makes sense.
There’s a pretty simple rule at work here: If you don’t want to do something, don’t do it. It just makes you look like you caved in to peer pressure at the last second and decided maybe your firm stand against dressing up isn’t so bad ass after all. Your whimsical Target employee name tag and shopping bag ensemble don’t make you look like a devil-may-care rogue deigning to play along with the proles on their silly holiday, you look like this guy I sat next to at a wedding recently rocking a Pittsburgh Steelers tie. You dressed up in order to say (to some invisible panel of judges who float through the clouds) that you dressed up, but you didn’t really dress up. In fact you look even worse than if you hadn’t done anything in the first place. Same idea behind the wrinkly khakis and blue oxford you wear to your business casual office. That’s the half-assed costume of life. The one where you show up to work every day pretending to be a dude who isn’t counting the hours until the sweet, merciful release of the big sleep.
It’s an internet meme costume. And you’re wearing it. All night. That’s like telling a really bad joke that unfolds over the course of eight hours. You’re basically putting in a day’s work as a guy who knows one joke that other people know. Next time I find myself tricked into going to one of these Hallowmeme parties I think I’m going to go as “Oh, I see what you did there.” Or maybe “Cool story, bro.” Both seem apt.
I suppose it could be worse. You could be the type of person who doesn’t dress themselves up for Halloween, but instead dresses up other days of the year in the costume of Halloween, like these people. Every day is Halloween with these fuckers. Just can’t wait to get home from work and slather their jowls in blood and white powder. I’m sorry but that’s weird.
LOL @ child rape/gayz
My friend Mustard, explained the appeal of our infantile obsession with putting on funny time happy clothes to me a while back. “For adults, Halloween brings out people’s most subliminal desire under the guise of doing it for fun or going to a party. Usually translates to girls dressing up as sluts and dudes dressing up like women. I’m dressed as a woman, get it? Isn’t it wild? What’s wild is your innate desire to be a cross-dresser being on display and it’s getting weirder the more of those red solo cups of Natural Light that you throw down.”
Acceptable costume. Because that was an awesome movie I’m saying.
That’s actually one part of Halloween that is almost bearable. The parade of tits rolling down the street on every corner like a giant tit tornado. But even that sort of thing makes me feel like Dylan McDermott in American Horror Story, (watch that shit) furiously masturbating and weeping at the same time. So, I dunno, who cares what I think. I’m a Halloween grinch, but have fun with your costume tonight, or rather, your other costume on top of your normal costume. Just don’t ask me to reach up onto any high shelves to get things down for you because you can’t raise your arms up in that cardboard box painted silver, or to, you know, look at you without thinking you’re a dick.