Starting in about August of each year, Kelsey starts to ask me what we should go as for Halloween. She loves Halloween. It's her favorite non-gift receiving holiday. Usually once or twice a week from August until early October when Kelsey finally decides on a costume we have the following conversation:
Kelsey: What should we go as for Halloween?
Me: Moe and Barney from the Simpsons.
Kelsey: That's dumb. No one would know who that is.
Me: It's not my problem people are uncultured swine.
Kelsey: Seriously, what should we go as for Halloween?
Me: Ooh..I know! Moe and Barney from the Simpsons.
Kelsey: You're no fun. I hate you.
The decision is ultimately hers. This year, I knew she'd decide before we ultimately went to my brother's Halloween party in Des Moines. She's picked some mighty good costumes over the years. The first time we dressed up together we dressed as a trashy Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Like all moralistic attractive women in the United States of Go America, Kelsey used her costume as an excuse to flaunt her fabulous breasts all night:
If you look closely, you can see Geneball dressed as Walter looming in the background. For those unfamiliar with the Tale of Halloween 2003, my apartment mates and I threw a Halloween bash that was going along swimmingly until some person none of us knew threw up all over one of our two bathrooms. Unfortunately The Stranger decided to do this AFTER Geneball had drank entirely too much Black Velvet, and if you know Geneball, that's never a good idea. True to his costume's character, he flipped out and screamed at everyone. At the time we feared for our lives. Now it's hilarious. The picture captures the night perfectly--laughing, smiling people with drinks in their hand naively ignoring the danger that lurks behind them.
The next year, Kelsey and three of her friends went as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles:
This meant I finally had the opportunity to wear my favorite dress and lady underwear in public. I dressed up as the Ninja Turtles trusty sidekick reporter, April:
The person standing next to me is my flamboyant brother. He dressed as Lt. Dangle of Reno 911 before anyone even knew what Reno 911 was. So he says. The party was at his house and personally I think that's what he was probably wearing around that day. He's far too lazy to get into costume. Also, for those of you who've never had a girlfriend, fiance, or wife dress up as a Ninja Turtle...make sure to drive them home prior to them reaching the "pass-out" point or your entire passenger seat will be stained green for months.
Two other costumes of note...We once went as the Flintstones, accompanied by our adorable dino-dog:
And I once dressed up as one of the racing sausages at a Brewer's game while Kelsey was dressed as a sausage fan:
That catches up to this year. I never put too much thought into a Halloween costume because I knew eventually Kelsey would think of something. That's what she does. Then Kelsey decided to visit one of the three ninja turtles listed above in Houston over the weekend of Halloween. That meant not only did I have to attend my brother's Halloween party on my own, I would actually have to think of a costume.
My plan all along was to travel to Dallas' house and wear the clothes I wore three days before. I would then act confused as to why everyone was dressed up because Halloween was still three days away. You know, I'd be dressed up as me from three days before. That would be my costume. I thought this was a great idea. Unfortunately everyone I told this idea to giggled, rolled their eyes, and told me I'm an idiot.
I arrived in Des Moines early the day of the party, so I drove up to Ames to eat with my wonderful not-at-all corruptive friends: John and Jess.
Aside 1: John and Jess are horribly corruptive friends. Every time alcohol and the two of them are involved either Kelsey or I end up sick the next day. I said the above because Jess seems to get offended at the assertion they are corrupting us. She thinks we should take responsibility for our actions. When she told me this, I told her this is America. No one takes accountability for their actions. It's easier for Kelsey and I to blame her and her husband. Luckily women can't read asides, so I could clear this up.
It turned out John didn't have a costume for the night either. We threw some ideas around. We mentioned how way too many people would think they were original and creative by going as the Joker.
Aside 2: Seriously...why do people dress up as the costume that everyone is clearly going to go as? Did anyone seriously smear white makeup on their face, adorn a purple a suit, and think to themselves, "I'm so original. Go me."
After I ate a delicious ham and cheese sandwich, John, Jess, and I went shopping at Wal-Mart for costumes. We left the store with a tube of black face paint, a mullet wig, and an idea. While inside Wal-Mart, John and I walked back to the craft section to see if we could find any black yarn skeevy enough to pass as a trashy moustache. On the way there, we walked past a group of overweight men with tight pants, horrible glasses, and bad hygiene. It dawned on me: "John, we should dress as child molesters." John: "Obviously."
We decided to leave Wal-Mart and go to the Salvation Army.
Aside 3: It actually proved to be difficult to find child molester clothes at the Salvation Army. There is probably a two-fold reason for this: 1) child molesters don't generally give to charity and 2) child molesters themselves probably snatch up their desired clothing--stained sweatshirts, short shorts, and sleeveless tees as soon as they hit the rack.
One thing I did not know that day, and thankfully John was there to teach me, there are different brands of child molester. I went as the down-on-his luck blue collar type, John was the gym teacher type, and Jess was the flasher type:
While that's a good picture, it really doesn't show my man gams I had on display:
Not surprisingly since the party was at my brother's house, he once again skipped a costume in lieu of wearing his short shorts around all night. I can feel my parents glowing with pride as they read this.
Aside 4: In a short-sighted move on our part, John and I dressed for the party in Ames. This meant the two of us had to drive a half hour to Des Moines together while in costume. Having not seen each other for awhile, we talked about our careers, the stock market, and the value of an MBA. We also listened to arena rock on my XM Radio and prayed to the gods we wouldn't be pulled over.
I won't go into much more detail about my costume, but there are two aspects of the costume not shown in the pictures. I had a pack of Skittles in each pocket to lure children to my wicked love den and because I love Skittles (see also: picture of me dressed as April). Lastly, I had a Rick Springfield cassette tape in my back pocket. Why? Because a love for Rick Springfield is what unites us normal folk and the creeps. It's our one bond.
I'll end with two more pictures. One shows me wearing the head of my brother's girlfriend's costume. The other shows how a year of growing my belly to the perfect plumpitude helped with Halloween this year:
It's time I layoff the Skittles and start exercising more than twenty minutes every two weeks.
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