Trick or Treat, Smell My Vagina

Halloween has come and gone yet again. Last year the holiday was rained out in my town by Hurricane Sandy Vag. Perhaps Sandy Vag was onto something. Perhaps Sandy Vag was actually an act of Jesus H. Christ himself. In an effort to shield the tri-state area from the inevitable skankery that is Halloween, God sent us a big, raging hurricane to make sure that bitches kept their clothes on.

But this year we could not be so lucky. As Halloween approached, I knew what would grace the bars and my Facebook wall. I knew the atrocities that would be committed. I knew the boobage and vaginal sites that would unfold before my eyes. I knew of the 2 inch packages that would force themselves into my life and, furthermore, into my nightmares.

The dumb biddies did not fail to perform their task as dumb biddies. There was just about every single slutty costume possible. Slutty babies, slutty Harriet Tubmans, slutty Stephen Hawking (although that IS a little redundant), slutty Can Openers and slutty mc slutsluts. People have turned Halloween into something that it was never intended to be. Yeah, Halloween is a time for people to dress up and feel liberated to express themselves anyway that they want, (bla bla bla, insert everything Lady Gaga has ever said here) but it does not mean it is the day to express every bit of sluttiness that you are made up of. Boys: put on a shirt. Girls: put on your panties. I am unimpressed and slightly bored.

My siblings and I were known to rock a Halloween costume or two. My Halloween costume in third grade blew every fucking person out of the water. This bitch dressed like an old grandma and I looked fucking baller as fuck. The same year by brother was Santa Claus. He looked pretty baller as well. Just two ballers out trick or treating looking for some motherfucking candy, my hoes. That is what it is supposed to be about.

My brother, sister and I had absolutely no shame in our game when it came to trick or treating. We went hard, we played hard and we made no apologies about it.

You tell us to take one piece of candy, you are only wasting your breath. We would take as many as we damn please and you will not say shit about it. If you leave a bowl of candy out and say "take one please," you are looking to be disobeyed. We do not care if you asked nicely. It is a bowl of candy...and we are children. You do the math.

In our world, 4 o'clock was a perfectly appropriate time to begin trick or treating and midnight was a perfectly acceptable time to end. We were every old fart's nightmare. We were unrelenting and unstoppable. We were a huge pain in the ass to everyone in our town but... we got a shit ton of loot.

My mother, being a candy enthusiast herself, aided us on our mission to complete maximum trick or treating. She made sure we always doubled bagged (in case of rippage), she drove us to the areas that were the most heavily populated in Twizzlers and tootsie rolls and she always made sure we stayed hydrated.

I have always looked back on Halloween with fond, wholesome memories. Those were the days when it was all about Reeses and jujyfruits, not six packs and nipples. It was a simple time, it was a beautiful time. 

Anyways, that aside, I seem to have misplaced my foam finger over the weekend. And yes, I checked my vageen.

If anyone finds it, please it return it promptly.

XOXO,

Jules