I would like you to kindly recall my challenge in the comments of THIS post to anyone with children of the specified age to garb their rugrat in one of several very special costumes that I found enormously funny and drag them along to the Halloween party.
Apparently, not everyone finds these costumes as amusing as I do. Some people have ISSUES they really need to work out. I suppose that they fear that dressing their kids up like a hooker from the roaring 20’s or a pimp that is more reminiscent of TV’s Huggy-Bear than some coked-up, assault happy malcontent will transform their pre-pubescent white suburbanite knee-biter into a formidable criminal resident of the Vice Squad’s holding tank who scrapes the last bit of crack resin out of her pipe when she’s been skipped on by a John and has to fork over her folding money or else taste the blunt end of a cue-stick, or worse, the wrong end of straight razor by her "manager", or even into the pimp himself who regularly sends his fleet of disease ridden man pleasers out onto the streets to dole out their fair share of affordable love and venereal nastiness that would make Osama Bin Laden envious of the efficient execution of germ warfare.
*inhale*
*pant*
*gasp*
*cough*
I mean, c’mon. It’s fucking Halloween. The concept is to dress in a costume that skirts, or even better, escapes reality. A kid in a pimp or ho’ costume will no sooner become one, as a kid in a Frankenstein costume will sprout spark-plugs from his neck, an industrial zipper on his forehead and sashay around the countryside in size 27 shoes wreaking havoc, killing villagers, and escaping torches and pitchforks. Ok, so we can’t rule that particular scenario out, but I mean it’s still such an infinitesimally small chance.
Lighten up, people. Forcibly remove the sticks from your collective asses and enjoy a national public holiday that allows you to dress up in a silly costume and show it off to your friends and neighbors without fear of having them shoot you in the face with a 12 gauge as soon as you show up on their doorstep. It’s planned, nonsensical fun. Look at yourselves and have a belly laugh at how ridiculous you sound. C’mon, you see it… you HAVE to see it. It’s as plain as the big rubber nose on your big rubber face.
A) Good show old boy, very good show indeed! Your rant had me panting and ready to grab a torch and go burn a Xtian.
2) Real pimps and hos don’t dress like that. Thy dress more like Brittney and Christina, and we let our kids dress like them.
d) Nothing. There is no third thing.