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Tuesday, November 01, 2005


Trick or Whatever

I had a very, very panicky weekend, as I once again left my Halloween costume to the absolute last minute. "What the fuck am I going to wear?" I screamed at our cat, who, oddly, had no answers. It had to be something I could cobble together with as little effort as possible, because I truly hate effort. It had to be something in which I could still teach junior high school students, who tend to take advantage when their instructor shows up in a sight-line-impaired Guy in a Coffin get-up. But mostly it had to be clever. There is no greater joy in life than laughing in someone's face as I express my pity at the limited intellect that has kept them from joining me in the rarefied group of Mensa-ites who understand my costume.

So I sat down and came up with a list of acceptable costume choices:

  • Drunk and Belligerent Harriet Miers
  • A Flu Pandemic
  • Pre-Cosmetic Surgery Joan Rivers (Would not actually need to do anything but put on a dress for this one)
  • A Dick-Tater
  • Estragon Dressed as Henry IV (Oh, the hilarity as Beckett's fool carries around a turkey leg, not realizing that he's mistaken the son of John of Gaunt with the driving force behind the creation of the Anglican Church! Good for hours of laughs!)
  • George Bush's Sense of Right and Wrong (Just covering myself with dust and cobwebs)
  • Anorexic Sumo
  • A Jar of Spoiled Mayonnaise
  • A Hogwarts Special Ed Student
  • Fear Itself
  • Mr. Rumpled and Unwashed Clothes Guy
  • A Homosexual Methodist (Just apply liberal doses of hellfire)
  • Dude with his Balls Shaved
In the end, I realized three important facts that I'd forgotten in all of this fevered brainstorming: 1) My school doesn't allow Halloween dress-up and, in fact, sends students and teachers out the door at a run to avoid--I'm guessing--the legions of the damned that apparently run amok after dark in the Central Bronx; 2) I was taking the day off to see my wife get sworn in as an attorney and 3) I fucking hate dressing up on Halloween. And so, in the end, I went as a 35-year-old dude in a suit for most of the day. Scary.

a huge congrats to the wife, Mr. W!
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