Reasons I Hate Halloween

Fall is, debatably, one of the greatest seasons of the four and I think just about every pumpkin spice obsessed blogger will agree with that sentiment. While I can agree there's just something about Fall that makes everything seem a little better, there are also a few things I will never, ever understand.

You see, I'm what most of you would call a "pansy", or another P word for those of you who share my affinity for dirty words. For the longest time I avoided Halloween like the plague because people in costumes scare the living shit right out of me. And I'm not talking about just the scary costumes. Oh, no. I'm the 26 year old who will consciously take a longer path at Disney if it means I can avoid one of those creepy fucking characters in those furry costumes with the massive heads. Like, why? Why are these things haunting me while I'm just trying to get my drink on around the world?

True story, one of my best friend's birthdays a few years back she wanted to go to Epcot and drink around the world because it was Food and Wine Fest. Of course I agreed to such a request because it was her birthday and me being the fabulous friend I was, I took one for the team. (Or maybe I just really love any excuse to go to Epcot... nah, just an amazing friend, of course.) By the time we got around to Paris we were good and toasted, which is pretty common for those of you who have never experienced Food and Wine Fest. My friend decided we NEEDED to get a picture with this Marie, cat, thing... which meant I was going to have to stand next to, what I assume is a pedophile in a cat costume, and pretend I wasn't secretly peeing myself.

If you can look at that thing and tell me there's not someone up to no good under there, you are living in pure denial. Nothing about this is ok.

Which brings me to Halloween. I hate it, if we're being honest, and here's a few reasons why:

Costumes

I've pretty much already covered this one, but I just need to touch on it one more time. Scary costumes make me pee pee my pants, always. The fake blood, the crazy make up, the creepy ass white contacts. Make it stop because all of it haunts my dreams and I'm tired of it.

Adult diapers, isle 2.

Haunted Houses

No, just no. I don't even want to go near anything that starts with the word "haunted", ever. Back on the Disney thing for just a second, The Haunted Mansion ride scares the bajesus out of me and it's meant for 10 year olds. It's dark and things pop out at you and people appear in mirrors. Just no. That shit's scary, I don't care what you say.

And don't even get me STARTED on the Tower of Terror. I wouldn't touch that ride with Godzilla's toenail.

Strangers Knocking On Your Door

I feel dog owners will feel me on this one. Seriously though, whose bright idea was it to have strangers not only come on your property but then continue to knock on your door as if you've known each other for decades? The dogs go nuts, you have no idea who's actually on the other side of the door, and there's a good chance you haven't had nearly enough wine to act as if you're excited they've caused a scene of chaos on your doorstep.

So, yes, I'm the douche canoe neighbor who turns off all of the lights and makes my house look as uninviting as humanly possible. You're welcome. Also, no, I have no milk or sugar for you. Bye.

People Taking All Of Your Candy

It's a rare occasion when I purchase any type of candy to come stay at my house with me for a while. A very rare occasion. Mostly because I have a vicious sweet tooth and if it's in my reach, there's a good chance I'm not going to turn it down. Which, in return, means my ass will continue to grow larger and then my pants wont fit and that would make me a very sad little unicorn. With that said, if, on the rare occasion I decided to bring some Reese's in my house, I don't want to share. Ever. Not even a little bit. Not even a green Skittle or a yellow Starburst.

Four for Whitty Coco and none for you, Beggy Wieners. Bye squared.

Halloween Horror Nights

Why, just why. What in the actual fuck is with Halloween Horror Nights and why is it still a thing? Finding a photo just to add in this post was enough for me to need a serious hug and possibly 4 consecutive shots of Fireaball. And then there's the commercials which put me in a place even the most powerful of Xanex prescription couldn't fix. Even just the radio commercials. No, just no. There's screaming and there's creepy voices talking to me and there's god damn scary people in scary costumes who look like they actually want to rip out my soul with their horrifying hands.

And don't even get me started on the stories I've heard of what actually happens when you attend such an event. Psychopaths running at you with axes and CHAINSAWS? Get out of here. Get all of the hells out of here. Don't pass go, don't collect $200, just get the hell out. of. here.

I Can No Longer Be A Whore

Hashtag throwback Thursday... see what I did there?

And then there's the final straw. The saddest, most depressing part of Halloween, really. I'm no longer in my early twenties, or in college, or living in a body fit for skank attire. It's no longer acceptable to go to the costume store, find the most overpriced skank costume, and prance around like a little whore for a night or two without any judgement.

No more keg stands, no more figuring out which innocent animal or hardworking profession I want to slutify. Now it's just me and my box of Franzia, praying no strangers appear on my doorstep and for a minimal hangover the following day.

I haven't even been able to convince bear to be a slutty bear this year.
Fun sucker, that man is.


Anyways, that's why I feel Halloween sucks.
I'll be over here waiting to overstuff my face with turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes. And also eating all of the candy and not sharing. You're welcome.

Focker out.