October 30, 2013

SEX ON THURSDAY: All Shallow’s Eve

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Happy Halloween to all my readers! I hope everyone’s ready for an awesome weekend of delicious sweets (I love me some orange Oreos), pumpkin carving and half-naked girls with animal ears. Oh what? My column runs on Oct.  31 and you thought I wasn’t going to write a piece about slutty costumes and dirty deeds in disguise? FOOLS! The only thing more fun than hookups are hookups with a theme, and everyone from hardcore frat bros to timid engineers takes part. So whether you’re a sexy ketchup bottle or a fox shouting jibberish, I hope you enjoy today’s All Hallow’s Eve edition of Headshakes and High-Fives.

Slutty Costumes: Don’t get me wrong, I love a cutie in a short white skirt, white top and fluffy polar bear hat as much as the next guy. What I would like to say, however, is that I feel bad that some girls feel obligated to dress slutty on Halloween. If anyone looks down on you for wearing a normal costume, then screw ‘em (not literally — that comes later). Hey girl, just do you.

On the flip side, I would like to say I also admire the girls who go to extensive lengths to make their costumes Hustler-worthy. And I’m not talking about wearing lingerie with a green hat and calling yourself Robin Hood. I’m talking about the ones who get a crap-ton of red cloth and cardboard, then strategically cut it up to be T-Bone Me Steak. Who cares that it’ll probably be about 35 degrees out when you’re a green dress, backpack and monochromic mask away from being a Teenage-But-Now-Legal Mutant Ninja Turtle?

Cross-Dressers and Covered Faces: We’ve all had at least one bad experience with these. One minute you find yourself checking out that cute cowgirl from behind, the next minute you’re complimenting your friend Dan on how great he looks in a wig and jean shorts (then immediately throwing up in the bathroom). Just be thankful you noticed it during the pregame and not under low lights of some frat’s basement — or worse, his apartment the next morning. But hey, don’t rule out the possibility. After hours of heavy boozing and not knowing what anyone really looks like, some sword fighting or scissoring will sound like a great idea.

Speaking of not recognizing anyone, beware of the masked dance-floor make-outs. It may start out harmless but if this escalates to behind closed doors, then make sure you fully see what you’re dealing with first. You may being going to bed with a princess, but you could be waking up with a frog.

Costumed Hookups: Who doesn’t want to say they made out with Cookie Monster or that they showed Jasmine a whole new world? Unless you have some wild mixers planned for later in the year, you won’t get opportunities like this again for another 365 days. Anyone can score a pirate or a schoolgirl — or a Spartan for the girls here. But for three nights when anything goes, having a story the next day is all that matters. I usually don’t like to give too much detail about my own hookups, but for the sake of this piece I might as well. Dinosaur? Check. Pocahontas? Check. Slutty Vitamin Water Bottle? Well, let’s just say she was the XXX flavor (actually we just made out, but you get my point). So if the night’s going slow for you, why don’t you go talk to one of the minions by the mantelpiece?

Your Perfect Match: Ah yes, my ultimate Halloween goal. Have any bunnies out there met their carrots? Or Supermen who’ve met their Wonder Women? There’s an enormous difference between going out as paired costumes and actually finding your partner by chance. Some are way too easy and unoriginal. “Oh hey I’m a cowboy and you’re a horse. Let’s bang.” No. Just no. But maybe the man in the taco suit will gaze across the countertop at Dunbar’s and see his Border Sauce packet staring back at him. As Boomer from the Rowdyruff Boys (Powerpuff Girls fans, you know exactly who I’m talking about), will I find my Bubbles this weekend? Only time will tell, but I guarantee you’ll hear from me in two weeks if I do.

And with that, I wish you all a wonderful next few days. If you’re lucky, the only thing the fox will say to you is, “Hell yes.”