Another Halloween Gone...

... and I must say, at least it was better than last year.

I did end up going to the aforementioned party, which has the dubious distinction of being one of the few parties that I've ever attended where I was among the more sober people there. That's not to say I wasn't drinking, because of course I was. But I was only drunk to the point where I wasn't afraid to strike up conversations with attractive women I don't know and do shots with them. Under normal circumstances, I'm terrified of attractive women--and for good reason.

It was my friend Dave's party, and it mostly took place between his basement and a bonfire out in the backyard. I spent a good portion of my time out by the fire, where a recurring theme throughout the evening was whether or not you were a person who didn't mind "eating ass." I'm not sure how THAT topic came up in conversation, but I must say, it was far more interesting than your average, mindless small talk. In fact, that became a running joke for the entire night--whenever someone (usually a stranger) would innocently take a stroll out to the fire, someone would inevitably blurt out "Hey, do you eat ass?" It's quite an ice breaker, that question.

One of the more entertaining things that happened involved Dave's neighbor, a blonde beautician who lives across the street. She came by with a rather hot brunette who was decked out in a cat costume--and that's always a good thing, because I love to see women in black tights and cat ears. Dave's neighbor was well beyond the threshold of drunk, and was slurring her words like a Christmas wino. But I was too busy talking to her friend, who put on her cat claw gloves and started posing for pictures with me. The only problem was, the blonde chick got it into her head that we were somehow picking on her... even though we weren't... and she went from having a good time one minute, to storming out of the party the next. Don't ask me why... hell, she was so drunk, I doubt that she would know, either. I tried stopping her before she got out the front door; "Hey, what's wrong with you?" I asked her. "Take it easy."

"Fuck you!" she bellows. "Fuck you, fuck Dave, fuck ALL OF YOU!"
At that point, I had to laugh. I knew she wasn't pissed at me, because I hadn't done anything. Besides, I was glad that I wasn't the one making a drunken spectacle of myself. I wouldn't have done that anyway, because I'm not the type of drinker where alcohol brings out their hidden rage. Quite the contrary--I am your garden variety lovable drunk. It was a shame, though, because her brunette friend left along with her, and most of the guys at the party wanted a piece of THAT action. Oh well. Like I had a shot anyway, you know?

I spent the rest of my free time these past several days watching shitty horror movies such as Halloween III: Season of the Witch. You know, every time I watch that movie, I try to convince myself that it couldn't possibly be as bad as I remember. But you know what? It IS that bad, and worse. Still, you've gotta love the concept--evil robots producing Halloween masks for kids that will kill them if they wear them. Not only that, the masks will unleash crickets and snakes all over your house. What the fuck???

I wish they still made such hokey, shitty horror movies. That film is a riot.

"Three more days 'til Halloween
Halloween, Halloween
Three more days 'til Halloween
Silver Shamrock!"

I'll be back a bit later...