Monday, October 31, 2005 Soap and water. Soap and water.
Last Thursday I wandered around the thrift store, terrified that I wouldn't be able to find anything cool or fun or funny for Halloween, and that my life was over. It turned out I was just hungry, which is so often the case when my terror level goes vaulting up to desert plum. Finally, I decided to follow my dream. I bought a frilly blue negligee and an old man coat, and the next day, I wore them together with fishnets, ridiculous boots, and a mascara beard to be a sexy hobo. I had a bindle and everything.
People were pleased, and I like being praised, so the next night I wore the same outfit to another party. I felt a little out of place, because everyone else there was wearing pants.
The next day it was time for the Bruisers' Ball, and luckily, fishnets-and-no-pants was practically the roller girl uniform. I had a wonderful time. The advertised "free PBR for those in costume" translated into three drink tickets, which was so sad. I guess "free" doesn't imply "unlimited". The drink special was something called a "roller girl shot". They mixed something sweet with something sweet. Then they ran out of whatever that was, but they were still offering the special, so the bartenders kept yelling, "Roller girl shots have changed!"
Downstairs, everyone was in costume, with maybe two or three sad exceptions. I wish I was a picture-taker, but I'm wild and free like Misty of Chincoteague (later abducted, sold to humans), so I let Central Park and The Gates, Team Zisou, Bjork in the swan dress (I talked to the man dressed as Bjork and he said, "Last night I went to the MICA Halloween party, and there were like, twenty Bjorks"), Gumby, Mustard, and dozeens of others get away without capturing their fleeting beauty.
Upstairs, they weren't so ho-hum when it came to sexy ho-bos. A man came up to me and said, "You got ugly-ass legs, you bearded motherfucker." I asked him if he wanted to fight. If I was a real hobo, I wouldna asked. Later, he came back and challenged Tracy and I for the pool table we were playing on. We accepted and won, which is what one does. Good triumphs over that guy.
Here is your scary Halloween story:
(Scroll to read on... if you dare.)
(Be careful! This is very scary and gruesome.)
(You will be shocked!)
The hobo beard I drew on with volumizing mascara clogged my pores. I fear that combination skin is just around the corner. posted by Frenz | 10/31/2005 03:43:00 PM
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