Halloween

Last time I dressed for Halloween was - years ago - like a Viking. I wore a helmet with horns, which had two red braids also. So there I was wearing a skirt of sorts, showing my hairy chest, wearing a helmet, sporting two (prickly) red braids made of who knows what, carrying a sword, and was the darkest Viking that ever walked the dark, chilly streets of Los Angeles filled with belly dancers, vampires, hookers, pirates, ghosts, witches - but my sword kept them all at bay, until it was time to meet up for a drink with deviants and mutants I knew.

I also once dressed as Bond - a dark Bond I was in a Black Tuxedo, Bally's (I wore those then) and with a clipped accent. However after a few very dry Martinis all that remained of the accent was slurred speech patterns with a heavy dose of "sh" like "Itsh really nishe meeting you" type lis(h)p.

Dressing up is fun, dressing up the house even more with all the gadgets one can buy cheap - Thank You China - fog pumps that shroud skeletons with burning red eyes, shrieking bats overhead and really ugly witches saying gibberish in scary voices. Jack O'Lanterns making eerie light patterns, and cob webs everywhere through which emerge little and big things dressed as parrots, or Superheroes or whatever asking for candy.

And SO MUCH candy there is. Almond Joy, Three Musketeers, Snickers, Starburst, Kisses, and there's also so much booze (man/ woman doesn't live by candy alone) Patron, Myers, Ardbeg, Ketel One, Pilsner Urquell, and all that Cabernet Sauvignon.

Strange kids invading your property demanding candy, sweets to induce heart attack, booze to give major hangover, and clothes that make Gladiators out of ninnies are some of the joys of being alive in the US on the 31st. But the biggest is if you can scare the pants of your honey - I hope I will - WooooooooooooooOwwwwwwwwwwwwwww