witches brew

It’s that time, leaves changing, air turning cold… people throwing parties where women all over college towns like mine, women that are comfortable with their bodies (because shit jack I’m not doin too bad for “in my thirties”), get to look at prancing little college girls that haven’t yet felt the havoc mother nature will hit them with as they enter “child bearing years”. (I only use that phrase because it’s the commonly acceptable description for women between 19 and 30 – not because I agree that’s a good term) We get to feel a little pang of hhmmm, ‘they’re so perky’ or ‘I had an ass like that’. Why more than any other time??? 1 word whore-o-ween… er Halloween. Ahhh yes the day of costumes and I use the term loosely, made of lingerie and little else. They walk around half dressed most of the time anyway, but this night takes it to a whole new level. A level that makes the most faithful man, completely in love with his girl, do a double take. Now don’t get me wrong… more power to them for having balls enough to give up respect in exchange for a night being groped by unknown creeps, ogled by men and women that spend the other 364 nights of the year in front of the computer screen and the possibility of going home with someone who won’t remember their name mid-way through whatever sex act she allows. You go girl! wait… I thought twice about this?? No. A little leg, a little cleavage, a short tight nurses costume to induce a little fantasy… I’m totally down. But leave something to the imagination. Plus I am cold just looking at them. Jesus!!! My rule is never sacrifice comfort for fashion. Even with alcohol I would not be warm. Oh I got it… man blanket. Yeah. I’m still thinkin no. And I’m still comfortable with myself. I get to be the person I am that night everyday. There’s no shock when mr whoever wakes up. I don’t go from little red riding ho to the big bad wolf in a matter of hours. Maybe after some imagination and a lot of appreciation of the work it took to combat mother natures evil plans (it certainly wasn’t watching The Hills and drinking Madori Sours) I could have a night of being Red Riding Ho… or something like that… maybe next year >:)