So it’s Halloween. Isn’t that special? Well not to me. Not now anyways. It used to be. Now it’s just an ok holiday in my eyes. It’s for the kids really. Little kids. Teenagers. College students. When Halloween comes to the adults it’s really about weirdos mostly. You read my take on costume people right? And it’s also about people who use Halloween as the reason to be a slut. To be extra drunk. To be a douche. I think these people just don’t have the balls to be who they really want to be the other 364 days a year. But there are some grown ass people who genuinely still just want to have a fun, scary time on Halloween. My T hat is off to you! I commend you. But there was a time in my life where I actively participated in Halloween. And of course, shit went down. T style. My classic Halloween moments. Enjoy!
Dressed Like a Little Girl Against My Will
When I was 3 years old, my mother and sister decided to dress me up as a little girl for Halloween. That’s right. It was the early 80s and little boys had shaggy mop heads that I guess were good for pigtails. I also had and still have long ass chick eyelashes. Even to this day women say they wish they had my eyelashes. I can’t stand it. So my mother and sister put makeup on me and carried me around the neighborhood trick or treating. They laughed and had a great old time. I was, am and will always be pissed about this helpless moment in my life. This is probably why I don’t care for Halloween. They still laugh about it.
For some reason my mother and every mother growing up had this theory that people in the neighborhood wanted to kill little kids on Halloween. After trick or treating, we would have to throw all of our candy on the kitchen table and look for razors and poison. That’s right. Razors and poison. All of a sudden I was supposed to be a CSI forensics expert at the age of 7 and be able to tell which candy looked like it was going to kill me. How the fuck did I know??? I just kept every type of candy that I liked and put the suspicious candy into another bag. I hid the good bag in my room and placed the “poison” bag in a place where my father would find it hoping he would eat it. Because the son of a bitch always ate my candy. He would eat the “poison” candy but never died. This is how I knew this system was flawed.
East Boston was a poor Boston neighborhood. So not everyone could give you candy. Instead, sometimes you got pennies. Yep. You would hold out your bag and some old lady or old guy would throw 3-5 pennies into it. It absolutely sucked. And it didn’t make sense. Back then a 1 pound bag of candy cost like 99 cents. I turned to my mother and said once “Why don’t these people just use all these fucking pennies and buy a bag of candy? They can give 1 piece each to like 25 kids.” My mother hit me in the head and said “Shut up. Stop being stupid.” Ok Ma.
A Charlie Brown Halloween
One year my father was “away” and my aunt and cousins came over to take me out trick or treating. My aunt convinced my mother to come with us. My mother didn’t have a costume. Our landlord’s teenage son gave her an old mask but her head ripped through it when she put it on. So my mother decided to make a ghost costume out of bed sheets. She found an old sheet. It wasn’t white. It was off white with flowers on it. Wait. It gets better. She decided to wing it where her eyes and mouth would be and randomly cut holes. She put it on and the holes didn’t line up to her face because her legs and feet were still showing. So she cut another set of holes. We left the house. My mother wore this not white, flower covered bed sheet with 6 holes in it and her legs and feet showing the entire night trick or treating. Looking more like a mental patient than any damn ghost! It was fucking awesome.
Two Season Halloween
In Boston you get two damn seasons. Winter and Summer. That’s how we roll. So as a kid I either got a hot ass Halloween or a cold as fuck Halloween. Each had their cons. I remember on hot Halloweens walking down the street sweating through my plastic He-Man mask, my plastic Lion-O mask…by the time I got to a house the mask was on my head and I just looked at the people and nodded to let them know I wasn’t in the mood for formalities and to just drop the shit in my bag. The cold ones were worse. My mother would force me to wear a big ass jacket over my costume. I would say “No one can tell that I’m Optimus Prime with this on Ma!” She would say “Do you want to get sick and die?” So I would wear my damn coat. Some mothers didn’t make their kids wear coats. Those smug bastards would laugh at my coat trick or treating but sure enough, they always got sick the next day at school. And couldn’t enjoy their tasty candy. Haha. Revenge fuckers! Thanks Ma.
The Awkward Yet Awesome Cusp Year
The cusp year is the year that you are officially too old to go trick or treating and still too young to go out with your friends and cause illegal damage in East Boston. It varies on the kid and his parents. My cusp year was 13. So I went to my cousin’s school Halloween dance. Our mothers allowed us to dress how we wanted that year. So we dressed in all black and painted our faces like the Ultimate Warrior/Sting/Demolition/Road Warriors! It was a mix of wrestling awesomeness! At this school dance I just played it cool. None of my cousin’s do good catholic school friends knew me at the time. So I was just hanging out by myself. Drinking some Slimer Ectoplasm Hi-C. Scoping the scene. Then some chick came up to me and said “Your John’s cousin right?” I said nothing. “Do you want to come dance with us?” I looked at her with my poker face and literally answered with a “Running Man” and a “Roger Rabbit” as Ice Ice Baby played. Silly Catholic school girls never seen dance moves like that before in their lives!!! My cousin ran up to me and said “That was awesome.” I said “I know.” And then we were the stars of that little catholic school dance. And that girl was my girlfriend for like the next four days. Word to your mother.
After the cusp year, you go eggin’. Now that was an old Eastie tradition. All of my older cousins did it. My sister and her friends did it. My cousin’s uncles and their friends did it. From the ages of 14-18, your ass went eggin’. You put on old clothes. Sometimes with a garbage bag over them for protection. A hoodie. A painted face. And armed yourself with as many dozens of eggs and cans of shaving cream you could carry and go to war every Halloween! It was a right of passage. You threw eggs at everyone. At everything. Your friends. Your family. Your enemies. Girls you liked. Cars. Houses. Whatever. Shit was on! Sometimes it was fun. Sometimes it was violent. Sometimes you came home clean. Sometimes you came home in stitches. That’s eggin’ baby. I thought it was a global thing. Turns out not a lot of people knew what the hell I was talking about once I got to college. They thought I was crazy. And I thought they missed out on some fucking Halloween awesomeness!
Saved By The Bell: The College Years
The Halloween college years were mostly house parties. One year in particular stands out. My buddy, my cousin and I decided to go to the college party of this hottie I liked from one of my classes. Last minute of course. So we grabbed 3 painters outfits from Home Depot. Went into town. Grabbed 3 40s each (40 oz. beers for y’all that don’t know) and went to the party. All night people wondered what the 3 of us were. The Beastie Boys Intergalactic had just come out so we would tell chicks we were them. We would say painters. Abortion clinic doctors. The Clockwork Orange guys. Whatever. We were drunk and on a roll. Until the chick’s boyfriend showed up. My cousin turns to me and says “T. You wanna fuck shit up?” I said “Yep.” Next thing I know we’re smashing 40s and starting fires and fights. We left the party and ruined like 3 more parties that Halloween night only to each wake up at 3 separate locations all over Boston and we found our buddy with a pierced tongue. That was Halloween in college for me in a nutshell.
Hip Hop Cow
After college, there were a few times I passed on the clubs and went to house parties. One year that stands out was the year that I was still Angry T and put on a cow costume and sunglasses and went as Hip Hop Cow. But after a few drinks and jello shots, I was Drunken Asshole Cow. Long story short, I went around to every hot chick and stuck out my utter and said “Want to pull my utter honey?” I offended everyone there the drunker I got. After I passed out, we all woke up and packed up the cars to head back to Boston. Everyone was pissed at me but luckily my cousin’s future bro-in-law took a seizure dressed as Cesar. Well, he wore a toga. But it sounds cooler when I tell the story that way. Shit rhymes. He kept on falling down. We thought he was either still drunk or just stupid. But then he went into full seizure mode in front of Starbucks. We stuck a wallet in his mouth and an ambulance took him to the hospital. He was ok. But he definitely took one for the team because his little epileptic fit took the heat off my party ruining ass. Nice bro. Nice.
Costume Walk of Shame Day
My last real Halloween moment came in Halloween 2004. The Red Sox had just won the World Series and Boston was still on a partying high! I went into town and my two buddies and I threw together some costumes as we drank. Hard. My buddy went as a wind swept dude. Yeah. I still don’t get it either. My other buddy went as a then popular David Ortiz. And I got to draw a David Ortiz styled beard on his face with a permanent marker! I was hammered and drew that shit so bad. That beard stayed on his face for like a week! It was awesome. And I went as a white Flava Flav of course. Hey. Fight the power. We went from club to club and got separated by midnight. Did I mention that we were so hammered before we even left the house? We shouldn’t have been allowed into any club but we knew people. I ended up at some chick’s apartment. The next morning I snuck out in full costume. I walked the streets of Boston looking for my car. This hungover white Flava Flav walked by a lot of other people still in costume as well. This was no other regular walk of shame though. Oh no. This was November 1st baby. This was “Costume Walk of Shame Day!!!” My Halloween run ended in the most proper fashion possible in my eyes.
So those were my classic Halloween moments. Now remember this as you go out and get drunk and bang. Also remember this if you run out of poison candy and decide to give out pennies tonight. Because your ass might get egged. But may you wake up tomorrow in your costume in an unfamiliar place, holding your head high but still feeling ashamed as you walk that walk of shame dressed like a costumed idiot baby. Happy Halloween!
What do you think of Halloween? Have any classic moments or do you just ride the couch and turn the lights off to shun away annoying trick or treaters??? Tell me! Comment on t-blawg, hit up the Facebook page or Tweet me direct on Twitter.
Until next time. Always take it there.
This is right up there with your Festivus posts!!! I LOVE the post-Halloween walk of shame!!! I considered bringing a bag of clothes with me my last Halloween in Boston since I knew I was gonna be taking the T the next day. However, I got on the T with pride the following morning in a salmon sport coat, lime green pants, and a 2-iron. The costume: 70s golfer. Actually looked like a drug lord. Keep up the good work my man!
Thanks brother! I know you’re a fan of Costume Walk of Shame Day.
The Charlie Brown Halloween is fantastic! Your ma seems like a cool lady in that goofy, doesn’t give a damn way. Exactly like a mom aught to be. 🙂
Happy Halloween, T!
She really is. She’s my biggest fan. I got my sense of humor from her.
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