Why I refuse to be a Slutty Raisin and how Halloween has turned me into a really popular co-worker.
- If you’re over thirty, please don’t wear these costumes. Unless you’re Heidi Klum or Madonna. And if you’re Madonna and reading this? I’ve totally won the blogging lottery. But don’t get me wrong – I’m over thirty and I think you can be in your dirty thirties and still rock it out (or your flirty forties and nifty fifties….). But can we also agree that sometimes you might not know you’ve gone ‘round the bend and everyone feels too embarrassed for you to tell you? And now you just look kind of slutty for no reason when all you really want is to be wearing sweats. Are we in agreement here?
- If you’re under thirty and see me at the bar or a party during the Halloween season and you’re dressed as a slutty construction worker and I’m dressed as the Log Lady, let’s just pretend we don’t see each other, m’kay? And you have my permission to chat up CB when I’m over getting more crackers, too. It’ll make his night and then I don’t have to feel bad that I’ve just asked him 20 times when we can go home and watch “The Golden Girls.” Win/win.
- If you’re a guy, could you do us ladies a solid and at least try? No, we don’t want you to be slutty because almost nobody looks good in a Speedo. But could you maybe try a little harder than writing “World’s Sexiest Man” across you’re ratty old under shirt in black Sharpie marker? I mean, you literally gave that no effort while us ladies have been dieting for 5 weeks and can’t even wear Spanx because the outfit we have on is too skimpy. I mean, throw us a bone.
- If you’re anyone and you see a slutty hockey player leaving the bar unable to walk or hold up her own puck, please help her out so that the “World’s Sexiest Man” doesn’t get to her first. Deal? This happens every year and then I end up being the sober Log Lady barrel rolling some chick home who decided that being a Perky Peacock this year was a good idea. It’s never pretty by 1am and usually I end up with puke on my flannel.
- If you have a child and she’s 13 years or younger, please don’t let her dress up like a slutty anything. Please. If not for her and her childhood, do it for me and my childhood. Know why? Because one year I went as a California Raisin and it was awesome. My dad made the costume (BOOM, that’s right! Dad rocks.) and I even wore his too-big-for-me (just barely) Converse sneakers. It was rad, I was rad, and nobody got scarred for life wondering if I was 13 or 21. Childhood doesn’t last long and so, while it might not be hip, it’s certainly worth preserving for as long as possible. Also, I promise I’m not some weird “Footloose”-type crazy who hates dancing and fun. I just sometimes get nervous when I see a little girl walking around in a half-shirt, freezing her patootie off because she thinks being a slutty cheerleader is the way to get extra Reeses. I’m not gonna lie, it’s not a bad trick. But I’m just going to put it out there right now that if you come to my door and you’re under 13 and dressed like a sleeping bag or something, you’retotally getting extra candy. I’m just sayin’.
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