Then there's the sexified ninja turtle scheme that's crept up over the last few years. With all my sexual deviancy and weirdness, there's something about cosplay that still creeps me the hell out, and I know that's going to make me sound ridiculously uptight.
I love looking at super-hot women just like anyone else who finally gets over being insecure, or someone who used to literally feel like a knife was being plummeted through my heart whenever I saw a body I perceived as "better" than mine. Oh, are those my issues? I'm sorry, I'll save those thoughts for therapy.
But yes, women turn me on, as should be the case with anyone with a pulse. But the ninja turtle thing is throwing my girl-boner off. Is it having random flashbacks of watching the cartoon on a Saturday morning in the 80's whilst munching on Mario vs. Zelda Nintendo bitchin'-kick-ass cereal? A random thought of the weird Baxter fly guy and how you used to totally think he had an intense child-molester vibe?
Or maybe it's this now-tramatic-to-look-at photo, when I obviously thought it was pretty BAD. FUCKIN'. ASS. At the time.
I obviously ponder very important, timely issues...the gears are churnin' here. Woman superheroes work perfect in the I'm-A-Woman-And-Will-Dress-Like-A-Slut-This-One-Day-Out-Of-The-Year Halloween realm. Wonder Woman, She-Ra. She-Hulk!
She-Hulk was my SUPERHERO JAM. Her comics were amazing. Shut up.
Well, as my grandfather used to say, I do believe it's as simple a formula as the Male Superhero not translating to the Woman Halloween Slut.
Yeah. So boning a girl dressed like a ninja turtle would be weird. I guess if she was hot enough, or you were drunk enough, or both, it wouldn't matter. What if she was dressed like a slutty Aquaman, though?
Halloween used to be a really big deal to me, and it still kind of is, but in a way, every day's kinda/sorta like Halloween in the Robinson abode and/or in my brain. In addition, we've been taking our annual vacation at the end of October the last few years...since I got a job that actually allows me to take vacations. It's a perfect time to - it's generally good weather, like, everywhere. It's to celebrate our wedding anniversary. And by this time of the year I'm usually beat to a pulp by the daily grind (or, life in general, let's be honest) and am one step closer to being put in a home. So, it's necessary.
We always come back the day before Halloween, so typically we're exhausted and don't really get into the spirit that much. Forget driving the 30 miles to LA (finding less and less reasons to go out there as the years pass - but that's another rant for another time) - no, I'm not doing it. It's horrible enough to spend 4 hours going 30 miles - not gonna spend 6 hours to basically masturbate in a bucket with parade people and THE BROS. Oh, my god, the BROS. There's so many. I can't handle one more popped collar bonerhead bopping around for the sole purpose of putting his penis in a vagina that evening.
We usually just get drunk on wine, bust out the Theramin and joke how it's going to "scare the kids!!!" HAHAHAHAHAHA. YOU KNOW. It sounds scary and funny! TEE-HEE!!! Stupid musician humor. We're all such a bunch of nerdy twats, when you really think about it. Seriously, go watch like any instructional video out there, by anybody. Plus, kids don't give a shit about anything.
Oh, and we watch ridiculous Halloween classics, and give candy to the 2 children that stop by our door. Then inevitably I'll want something "headier" because I'm obviously such a high-functioning intellectual person, and want to watch Clockwork Orange or some documentary about the mistreatment of the elves that have to hand-paint ALL the letters on ALL the keyboards of ALL the computers but it's Halloween so it's all hot women being killed at summercamp.
And you know what, it's always the best evening ever, because it's spent with the absolute bitchin'-est love of my life.
See? I'm not completely dead inside! I still have feels. Even though I attempt to kill them all.
Until next time.
