Need to bring something fun last-minute to a Halloween party? Never fear! (Except when it comes to your own mortality.) I have prepared this list of truly terrifying Halloween shots.
Please note: I don’t believe in measuring.
The Ghost
1 part espresso
1 part kahlua
(Because it keeps you up all night.)
Always delivered with the reminder, “We’re all going to die one day. Enjoy.”
Frankenstein
1 part granny apple vodka
3 pennies from the bottom of your purse
1 Lemonhead
(Let the lemonhead dissolve. That gives it that jolt to really make it come alive.)
Don’t worry about the pennies, alcohol kills germs.
Maleficent horns? $3 at CVS. Purchased after midnight on a whim.
Cape? Already had it for some reason.
Makeup? I contoured my face with green eyeshadow.
Chinchilla? Terrified. “human no have horns. u not my human. u impostor. i fight for life.”
Is this a new thing guys do on dating websites? This is not the only message (or sequence of messages) I’ve gotten like this:
I cannot judge the accidental duplicate message. I have come within a hair’s breadth of doing that myself. But this weird intentional hanging-a-lantern-on-the-fact-that-I-clearly-haven’t-replied messaging is perplexing. Does this work for some guys?
The thing is, messages like this all started around the same time a few months ago. So my best guess is that some kind of Cosmo for Dudes offered this as way to follow up and totally not seem at all desperate or annoyingly persistent.
My advice? Send messages on OkCupid the way NASA transmits radio frequencies into space looking for extraterrestrial life.
Actually, no that’s terrible advice. Because I think there’s some signal that goes into deep space constantly. Sometimes they send music out there. Just grasping around in the darkness of space. Ever-searching.
Okay, so do the OPPOSITE of the way NASA transmits radio frequencies into space. This is probably why we’ve never made contact. Human nature is very off-putting.
We’ve all heard of Jacuzzi, Kleenex, Post-It, Xerox—and all those other brand names that became the generic term for all forms of that product by all manufacturers.
But did you know that the humble TATER TOT lives amongst their midst?
I started to suspect something was amiss when I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some frozen tots before heading to a friend’s house. (She was making homemade tomato soup and vegan grilled cheese. I felt tots would be an appropriate side dish. Feel free to agree with me.)
Standing there, in the freezer aisle, I realized something.
Like, if you hate tomatoes but they only want to eat at Italian restaurants, you might have a problem. (Trust the vegan on this.)
Vegan mac’n’cheese pizza in Salem, MA.
Do you feel comfortable enough in their home to take off your shoes and rifle through their cupboards?
If you just stand in the doorway, feeling like you need an invitation to take off your coat–lest you overstep the boundaries of showing them your coatless body–then you probably shouldn’t share a common space for any period of time.
Would you yell at them if they cut off your mom in traffic? And would everything be okay afterwards?
“Dude, that was my mom! You need to calm down. For real.”
If you so fear their reaction that you would only meekly say, “Um, I think that may have been, um, a woman who could have given birth to me,” then do not travel with them. Because there may come a time that they will overstep your boundaries–like speaking to you through the door while you’re trying to pee–and you need to feel okay telling them to give you a goddamn minute.
However, if you think that snapping at them for cutting off your mom in traffic would result in a huge blowout or tears–do not let them become the only person you consistently interact with for days on end.
Would they be patient enough to take approximately 6,392 photos of you with your new mailbox?
When you’re on a trip, there’s nothing worse than seeing something super cool and having your travel companion grudgingly taking a photo of you with it–only to discover that you’re squinting weird. You need someone who will snap a bunch of photos. And then snap a bunch more if the previous batch did not meet your standards.
(Please note, this must be reciprocal.)
Hashbrown no filter. But I was wearing a wig and a lot of makeup.
Would you spot them money for dinner or just straight up buy them a coffee?
During your travels, you run the risk that somebody’s card just won’t work or one of you may run out of cash at a cash-only café. You need to be comfortable with the idea of shelling out money on their behalf that you may never see again. (Or trusting them enough to be sure that they’ll pay you back.)
Have any of their roommates mysteriously disappeared?
Do you know any of their previous roommates? Are they still friends with their roommates? If not, this could be a warning sign that they’re the type of person who will just take your bananas and time your showers.
WHAT’S BEHIND THAT DOOR?
Have you ever vomited/farted/burped or done some other seemingly embarrassing bodily function in front of them? Would you feel comfortable doing this?
You may be sharing a teeny tiny hotel room with one bed and the flimsiest cardboard wall between that bed and the bathroom. If you eat at that local Indian restaurant that seemed kind of shady–but was recommended by your brother’s girlfriend’s dog-sitter–and you start to feel a telltale rumble in your intestines…
Let’s just say–when you travel with someone, they learn your secrets. If the idea of letting them hear you destroy a toilet bowl fills you with terror, you should not travel with them.
(Naturally, don’t try to be gross. But things happen. Sounds are made. You need to feel comfortable enough with your travel companion, that they won’t openly point out or be horrified of your humanity, so that you don’t give yourself constipation just to avoid any potential embarrassment.)
I feel like this turned into a bunch of things about bathroom habits.
Here, have a picture of baby ducks in Paris:
I had a fine dream of posting something new on this blog every week. But sometimes I just get so busy–and since I don’t have a clear direction for this blog yet, I overthink every little idea–that I fall a little behind.
Also, whenever someone says “I’m a little behind,” all I can think about are tiny butts.
