halloween fun

I love holidays for selfish egotistical reasons, completely focused on my agenda and no one else's. And I'm OK with that - if anyone truly appreciates holidays, it's me. Not for the same morally correct reasons instilled by my parents, such as the "giving" mindset, love for your family, or quality time with your loved ones. No, I love holidays for the obvious selfish reasons, like paid time off from work and excuses to excessively drink and ignore the pleas for safety from my liver.

And why shouldn't I? For 5-6 days a week, year round, I spend my time servicing others and their needs to just pay off silly things like rent and health insurance. And in the process I get to field requests from it seems everyone in the Western hemisphere, ranging from the boss's Yoda vocabulary in my professional life ("Logistics you have, effort levels you don't?") to my personal life ("was it supposed to end this quick?"), even extending into my beloved TV. time ("is ExTenze right for you?").

Halloween is the calendars gift to all blood n' guts movie-loving fans, NBA die hards, social deviants...and whores. And no one appreciates this simple fact more than me. I yearn each for October to roll in and eclipse dreary September, knowing that I will be blessed with the opportunity to view a few classic horror movies, cheer for my Warriors, pick up a cool mask and costume to end the 31st with, and see a lot of exposed cleavage.

Though there wasn't any Golden State Warriors frenzy present, this years' horror appetizer "Chain Letter" had all the makings of an instant TNT classic. And by classic, I mean an intense killer, graphic murders, and (sadly) brief nudity. The disfigured Chain Man, the prolific chain-wielding killer from Chain Letter, might not have a single line in the movie but what he lacks in vernacular, he more than makes up for with gory eviscerations and a Ninja Gaiden-type mask. You know, all white, enveloping the head AND mouth area; because he obviously needs to breath back in the air he just exhaled. The mask itself automatically identifies the movie with the horror theme, similar to how "Scream" made the corny white ghost mask with the dropped jaw fashionable for a good 2 year stretch.

We can hit up our neighborhood's seasonal Halloween store (that was a run down Save Mart on September 29) and pick up gear from our favorite horror movies, like Chain Letter. Its cool horror-movie masks and motifs like that that makes Halloween all the more enviable to party-goers throughout the nation. More so for the guys, however. Ah, whores. What's even better about the Halloween apparel season (aside from B-level wardrobe accessories, obviously) is that for all the creativity I might put into an outfit along the lines of Freddy, Jason, or the Chain Man, drunken socialites and the classiest of sorority chicks will do the polar opposite: less equals more.

It's as if their inner selves hid from perverted eyes for the previous 364 days of the year and came out on All Hallows Eve with pent-up anticipation and a penchant for promiscuity. If only you're sloppy night could last for another twelve hours, preferably while you wear the Chain Man's mask. Awards for the best costume won't go to the guy with a head full of pins and 3 hours of makeup (a la the late 1980's Hell raiser classic); no, they will go to a perverse ex-cheerleader sporting a mini skirt & thong combination, push-up bra and just enough Bacardi in her to prove to the room she can still do the splits, thus effectively saving all "Megan's Law" members from having to use an expensive rufy. I love Halloween!