I think the most frightening thing for me today will be the Florida-Georgia game (AKA The World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party). I have a bad feeling about it.

I’m getting my hair colored, so I guess my costume is “a person without gray hair.” Then I’m having “Sex” with a gay friend.

(Okay, I’m reviewing a revival of the Mae West success de scandal and asked a Male Person of the Gay I’ve known for years to come with me. First person to use the “f_ _ hag” construction gets a punch in the nose!)

I’m dressing up as an on call Senior Exchange System Administrator.  The children will be terrified.

I’m going to be the dude who is too old to go out carousing. Taking a break from decorating the yard right now. (Last minute prep. due to laziness/attempt to outsmart drunken students.)

Afterward we’ll go for a hike or something so we don’t sit around eating all the candy.

I’m going to dress as Maggie’s Brother. I’ve got a roll of nickels and a roll of dimes ready.

“Are you having a good time?”

Eh, Halloween.  It’s something that’s definitely become more prominent in the UK since I was a kid;  I don’t recall seeing trick-or-treaters until I was about 12 or so, and I’m only 29.  Mind you, I did live in the (semi-)countryside until a few years ago, but having just now come back from being out on the bike, it still looks weird to see all these kids running around in costume.  It feels like a foreign holiday to me.

My mother AND my Auntie Pat are here to watch the Greenwich Village Parade on NY1. We will make popcorn, receive trick-or-treaters, wear devil horns, and drink Chilean red wine. Which I have to run out for, as Mama-san demolished the red supply last time she was here. And is white wine satisfactory? OH NO.

Today I was Homer Simpson by decree of the boy who was Bart. For tonihgt, I’m having a devil of a time deciding whether I’m going to be 70s TV cop/pornstar, AKA PornoCop, or a new creation of my own.  It would consist of a colonial wig and a pot leaf that I’ll make out of some construction paper.  I would be “Pot Washington” in honor of my town’s notorious nickname.  I have problems with each though.  I can’t find my stick-on pornstache so PornoCop is probably out.  And I don’t smoke but people will be coming up to me all night looking to grub weed off me.  I also can’t find any green construction paper because the boy is always making up tributes to the Jets.  So stressed out.