The saturday before Halloween I was down in Salt Lake City trying to get some homework done. I had to slide on down to my sister’s apartment to search her comp for some old files of mine. No Luck. So she tells me all about how her boyfriend is a pushover for the drama kings, willing to do anything if they ask him right. And she says to me, “Why don’t you come with us?” since they were going party hopping. Being poor’n all, I wasn’t able to go buy my costume (a white sheet) so I could be a Huge scary ghost. So I went as a fat old bearded guy who drinks bear and ogles the teenage halloween sluts. (I preferred to be called “the designated driver"). We had a blast.

Kelli and I picked andrew up from his Wiseguys comedy show, then hightailed it to a party near the Ackers old house above 13th east. (SLC). This party was pretty much the bomb. Sluts EVERYWHERE, but sadly they were too young for me (to date or talk with). That party was a lot like a club scene. Disco ball, strobes, party music blasting, beer and jungle juice splashing everywhere, men undressed as chipendales and natives (Injuns), women dressed as objects, adorned with clevage, and either horns or a tail. Kelli ( my lil sis) went as a cow girl, not the feminine version of a cowboy, but as a girl dressed like a hick, who has some sort of obsession with cows. She brought a cowgirl hat, wore a plaid dress shirt, wore cow slippers, and carried around her large cow stuffed animal. Andrew (kelli’s bf) went as superman. He wore a half unbuttoned white shirt, and a tie blowing back in the wind, had his hair colored black, with the curlie up front, and wore a superman shirt to show the emblem throught the opening of the dress shirt. Kelli’s roommate met up with us at the party and brought two guy friends of hers. Kelli’s roommate was dressed as a white fairie with white wings. Her friends were brothers. One came as a cop (designated driver, more designated than I was), and the other came as a free breathalizer test with a working meter. The cardboard box hung by suspenders around his waist. The pvc pipe to blow on protruded from his pelvic region…great party fun, for drunk whores at a costume party. So his bro, the cop shined the flashlight and took pics of gals finding out how drunk they were.

Party 2 was at Stacey Horton’s bf’s place, somewhere in or near the avenues I guess. Someone hooked up the guys that lived there with 10x8 ft posters from victoria’s secret. Pretty sweet. Anywho, that party was less about dancing and definitely more about getting drunk off your donkey. We couldn’t stay long at that party, but it was fun while it lasted. Stacey’s bf gave me a tasty beer, and all the girls fought to go “peepee-in-da-potty.” Some girl offered me some suggestive acts in order that I let her infront of me (in the bathroom line), I told her she could keep her STD’s but that she was welcome to go in front of me. Who says chivalry is dead? While drinking and making the rounds in the crowded kitchen, one drunk kid kept trying to “give me some skin.” And, kept telling me how awesome and badass I was. That happens to me a lot at parties, some drunk kid on x or weed giving me unsolicited praise and worship. Now, this is great for poor self asteem, but really, like I’m going to value the opinion of some drunken 17 year old stranger I’ve never met…he’d have to be one beautiful girl for that to work. Maybe I really am Jack Black from the Orange County movie. Also, that party had a lot of mexicans, and I think a couple asians. That felt kinda outtaplace. Not that I’m racist or anything. So, on the way out we said our goodbyes and ran into Chester the Molester, Nick’s old junkie roommate. That’s not meant to be an insult, but lets face it, he seemed to be on some recreational drug everytime I met him.