My
weekend was a good one. Thursday night,
Jester, Daughter, and I carved some pumpkins.
Once again, I got some stencils from Zombie Pumpkins. At Daughter's request, Jester chose Bruce,
the shark from Finding Nemo.
Friday
night, I went to a concert with my buddies Daniel and Chandler. Every year, at one of a couple local live
music venues, on both Halloween weekend nights, there are local bands playing
tribute sets as other bands. They dress
up as the bands and, in the case of some, even talk like the band members. This year, Halloweekend (as it's called) was
at Martyr's. Here was the Friday night
line-up:
Vlad
the Impaler as Black Sabbath
Bon
Mots as Bad Company
The
BuckStops as The Police
Dolly
Varden as Fleetwood Mac
Johnny
& The Creeps as Donovan
Dirty
Pigeons as The Moody Blues
The
show itself was awesome. Every band was
great, even the ones who were pretending to be bands I don't necessarily listen
to all that much of. The last three were
especially good. The Police are a really
tough band to cover, both musically and vocally, but they nailed it. Bad Company was awesome. Right before they went on, I over heard the
lead singer say to some friends, "time to make some panties drop,"
and then headed onto stage and presumably did just that. I wasn't wearing panties myself, but if I had
been, I definitely would have dropped them.
Black Sabbath was the last act, and they kicked ass. Here is a picture of Ozzy about to be
engulfed in smoke:
Fearing
I would be ostracized from myself if I didn't dress up as a rocker, Friday
night, I went as Lemmy from Motörhead.
In
years past, when I have dressed up as a rock star, I have acted the part,
drinking my wife's contact lenses (allegedly) as
Ace Frehley in 2006 and passing out standing up as
Slash in 2010. Given that Lemmy is
66 years old and it's damn near impossible to drink large quantities of alcohol
with a fake mustache on, I was relatively tame.
Sure, I spoke in a gravely, often indecipherable British accent, drank whiskey, smoke Reds, and had sex with over 1,000 women,
but I didn't black out or anything.
After
the show, I went to Rocks, hoping to sing "Ace of Spades" at
karaoke. Much to my chagrin, there was
no karaoke at Rocks Friday night, probably because too many minds would have
been blown. People and creatures I have
known for years didn't recognize me, which was kind of funny.
Saturday,
we took the kids trick-or-treating on Lincoln Avenue in North Center, where a
bunch of the local businesses were handing out candy. That was pleasant, although not as pleasant
was watching the Hoosiers stomp Illinois, giving Kevin Wilson his first Big Ten
win as IU's head coach. In case you're
wondering, the Hoosiers control their own destiny in the Big Ten Leaders
Division. If they win out –- which would
only be their first five-game winning streak since 1987 -- then they will play
in the Big Ten championship game. If
they win that, then they are Rose Bowl bound.
It's just that easy, folks. Make
it happen, Hoosiers. Needless to say,
the losses to Michigan State and Ohio State by a combined 7 points hurt right
now. If those and the last-minute losses
to Ball State and Navy by a combined 3 points go the other way, IU would be 6-1
right now. Maybe next year. This year, I'm just focused on getting to the
Rose Bowl.
Saturday
night, Gregerson and his special ladyfriend Colleen (who are living in sin,
mind you) threw a Halloween party. The
food and drink options were spectacular.
Or should I say spooktacular? No,
that doesn't really make sense. I'll
just go with spectacular. They had
deviled eggs that looked like eyes, a pumpkin vomiting guacamole, and a
birthday cake honoring the facts that I've been alive for, gulp, 35 years.
A quarter of my life is over now, people.
In
addition to your standard beer and booze, they made pudding shots. Yes, pudding shots. They were in the following flavors: white Russian, black Russian, mud slide, and
pumpkin cheese cake. I made jello shots
with limoncello, which were pretty awesome if I do say so myself. Someone else brought "apple pie
shots." He boiled apple cider with
cinnamon sticks, strained it, let it cool, and then added everclear. The result was a shot that tasted like really
good apple cider. You couldn't even
taste the alcohol. It was a teenage date
rapist's dream.
For
the party, despite it being too damn hot, Gregerson was a penguin, so
naturally, I was Billy Madison.
Here
are the top ten costumes I saw this weekend (other than my own).
Honorable
mention:
Peter
Griffin
Whatever
this is
Beer
man and '70s drug dealer lady
The
fact that he carried a 12-pack of Hamm's around his neck for most of the night
is impressive.
Notice
the authentic toxin-induced sway.
Paulie
Bleeker from Juno
It
would make even more sense if you saw his wife, who is pregnant.
10. Alex DeLarge from A Clockwork Orange
I didn't get a picture, but some chick Friday night dressed up as local Chicago late-night horror personality Svengoolie. It was disturbingly spot-on.
8. Swan
Jester
played along with me, even though she hates dressing up. She made a swan costume, pretty much only so
that I could yell "Stop looking at me, swan" whenever she looked at
me. It didn't get old.
Looks
like Kaila is ready to play some Plinko! And looks like Ryan is a serial rapist.
He
certainly didn't want to ruin anyone's weekend.
Notice
the coke-stained noses and bras, panties, and condoms.
Sure,
they had to explain it to everyone, but it was still awesome.
It
was even the kind that you'd find in a second-hand store, as you can tell by the style of price tag.
The champagne of costumes.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment