My husband and I carved *exquisite* pumkins this weekend, made all the more exquisite by the prodigious amounts of beer involved and the handfuls of slimy seeds we threw at each other and the cat. I did Napoleon Dynamite and he did Edward Scissorhands. We took pictures, so instead of doing anything productive today, I'm working on getting those downloaded and sent to everyone I've ever met.
For tonight we have two huge bowls of candy to give to kids, but by now it's more like one and a half because I keep eating from them. He even hid them in the broom closet, but I found them and devoured all the Twix.
I've decided I'm going to be one of those creepy-dressed-up-adults-who-sit-at-home-alone-and-wait-for-trick-or-treaters (::yes::) and the costume is basically going to be an overkill on random beauty routines I perform-- the green clay face mask, the cotton balls between the toes, the wax, the deep conditioning hair treatment with my head wrapped in saran wrap. I've mastered the art of suspending an eyelash curler from my lashes and waving my arms to make it look like I'm in pain, and this is how I plan to answer the door. Hopefully I can scare a few little girls into abandoning hygiene altogether.
No one else seems to give a shit about Halloween in this town except the sluts. We ran into a predictably sexy kitten at the liquor store on Saturday night. Very lame whiskers, very exposed ass cheeks. My batshit crazy co-worker at my last job used to dress up full-out for this and I miss that.
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