Everything is better when there’s Moscato and costumes involved. Write that down. Save it. Know it. Believe it. Drink it. Sit on it. Hashtag it. Live by it.
I realized this last weekend, when I celebrated Halloween a little early, and dressed as the smiley poo emoji. (It’s not chocolate ice cream, I don’t care what you say. If there was a chocolate ice cream emoji, there’d also be a vanilla one. Or a cone underneath it.)
I wore the costume at the Weekender’s Man and Model of the Year party. I wore it to Eddie’s Diner afterwards. I woke up in it on Saturday afternoon. I wore it again to a party on Sunday. I woke up in it again on Monday morning. So I basically dressed as a big pile of poop for an entire weekend. Sorry, Mom and Dad.
At least it made for an adventurous weekend. Here are eight of my adventures while dressed as the smiley poo emoji, which proves life is more interesting when dressed in costume. Write them down. Save them. Believe in them. Drink them. Sit on them. Hashtag them. Live by them.
1. Danced the night away: At the Man and Model of the Year party, everyone danced like Abbey Lee Miller would beat us if we didn’t. Our costumes served as masks of our real identity, which made it easier to let loose.
2. Met Monica Lewinsky’s doppelgänger: After the Man and Model of the Year party, I went to Eddie’s Diner with a group of friends. Some girl walking by asked me if I was a Hershey’s Kiss candy. “No, I’m a piece of sh*t,” I defended myself. “Are you Monica Lewinsky?” She just huffed.
I was surprised that she wasn’t trying to look like Monica Lewinsky for Halloween. She looked exactly like her, which isn’t really a bad thing. Monica’s hot. Right, Bill Clinton?
Even though she didn’t intend on looking like Monica Lewinsky, she did take a Snapchat with me, so I could tell my friends I met the world’s most famous White House intern.
“Look, I’m with Monica Lewinsky,” I said in the video. Then she got into the spirit. “Bill Clinton has a big, well, I don’t wanna say,” she said with sass.
I’m not sure if she would have felt comfortable pretending to be a woman who had sex with Bill Clinton if I wasn’t dressed as a pile of poo.
3. Hung out with Muslim Bruce Jenner.
On Sunday, I went to a Halloween party. My friend Curt needed a costume, so I let him wear my Bruce Jenner circa 1976 Olympics costume. (Yeah, I had it just lying around.) Curt didn’t shave, which, with the costume, somehow made him look Muslim.
4. Was schooled on why a good bottom shaves his butt.
“You look like a gay guy’s dick,” someone told me at the party. It was OK for him to make the joke because he’s gay.
“Oh come on, you can’t really get that much stool on your tool,” I said.
“Not if you’re a good bottom,” his boyfriend said. “A good bottom will clean himself good. I’ve been with straight guys, who are married with kids now, and they don’t clean themselves well. The key is shaving your ass. Then you won’t get anything lagging behind down there.”
Noted.
5. Drank pumpkin sangria.
I made pumpkin sangria for the party, and it was amazing. The ingredients are one bottle of white wine (I went with two bottles of Moscato), one cup of pumpkin spice liqueur (I went with three cups), three cups of V8 Peach Mango juice (I went with two cups), 2 teaspoons of pumpkin pie seasoning, 2 tablespoons of maple syrup, 2 cups of sugar, and 2 teaspoons of cinnamon. Let it chill overnight.
6. Rode a tricycle.
Curt’s ex-girlfriend, Erin, was Jigsaw for Halloween. It was awesomely creepy when she rode it. It was funny, and made for a good Snap, when someone dressed as the smiley poo emoji rode it.
7. Had a heart to heart.
There’s always that point of drinking where there’s no return with emotions. I had a heart to heart with some girl about something she thought I said that I didn’t, but kind of did, but didn’t mean what she thought I said. That’s about as much sense as the conversation made, because I was drinking, and, you know, dressed as a piece of poop.
8. Did a keg-stand.
The peak of the night came when sh*t hit the ceiling. When I did a keg-stand in the kitchen, my feet hit the ceiling, which was literally sh*t hitting the ceiling.
See, if I was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans and hit the ceiling, nobody would remember it. But it’s funnier, because I was in costume. Halloween should be once a month.
The world would be a better place. I think it would help create world peace, or at least make people happy enough to stop leaving their newborn babies in dumpsters and church basements.
Just a thought.
