1) Because they have crystal balls. 2) Because they have hollow-weenies.
I've always preferred the former to the latter. The hollow-weenies thing is a bit of stretch. A stretch-weenie, if you will. Which doesn't sounds at all pleasurable of comfortable. So we'll just stick to the crystal balls.
I don't have crystal balls, but I did have a crush on a girl named Crystal in 6th grade. I think she offered to blow me in exchange for answers to the math quiz once. I gave her the answers, but didn't collect my reward.
Hey! I was in sixth grade! Sixth grade blowjobs are creepy.
Anyways... how does this related to Halloween... Oh... umm... I think she dressed up as a cat. A sexy cat. A sexy, twelve year old cat, which is creepy. First of all, can cats be sexy? To humans? I think I have some spam in my inbox that answers that question. But no thanks. Cats ain't sexy to me. Especially twelve-year-old cats. That's just weird. (I was dressed as Slash, by the way.)
A year later I was trick or treating (yes, I was thirteen and trick-or-treating) and decided to see if I could get some candy from Crystal's house. Her ex-boyfriend (yep, our pre-teens had exes. Welcome to my world.) rode by me on his bike, and offered me a drink of water from his sports bottle. Now, he was a cool guy, and we were friends, so I took a sip. After all, I was thirsty.
Turns out the bottle was full of Southern Comfort. Yizzeah.
I never did collect any candy from Crystal, but I wonder if I can still collect my BJ. Is there a statute of limitation on those things? I had it in writing! She passed me a note!
Other Halloweeny hollow-weenie tidbits:
In fourth grade I dressed up as Howard the Duck. I loved Howard the Duck. I think I may have been the only person in the entire world to dress up as Howard the Duck that year.
In college, I once went as The Dude. (The Dude from The Big Lebowski, not The Dude from Elanamatic.) Grew a goatee, didn't bathe, wore my dirtiest t-shirt and a bathrobe. I carried around nips of Vodka and Kahlua and a bottle of milk so I could make Caucasians wherever I went.
Crackula. THAT was an awesome costume. I built a crack-pipe out of a Pepsi bottle and filled it with rocks painted white. Turned an old ratty blanket into a cape. Wore ripped, bloody jeans, a dirty-ass shirt, and the same beat-up Doc Marten's I'll be wearing tonight. I put a couple of spoons and syringes in my pocket. I was ready to go.
Crackula - The Homeless Crack-addicted Vampire. Not very PC, but hey. It was pretty good.
Went as Hulk Hogan in 5th grade. I think it was 5th grade. Stuffed some nylons with foam and put 'em around around my arms, so I looked freakin' huge. Grew a mustache. Okay, I couldn't grow a mustache. Used a fake one. By the end of the night, my muscles were falling off my arms. I then decided that, for the rest of the night, I was Leper Hulk Hogan.
Can't you just hear Gorilla Monsoon and Bobby Heenan calling a match between Leper Hulk Hogan and, oh, say, Big John Studd?
"And Studd is a monster. Six-foot-ten, three hundred and sixty five pounds... Oh my... Oh my God... Is that Leper Hulk Hogan's music?"
"Uh-oh, Gorilla. Looks like things might be over for Hogan. Studd's got him in the figure four! I don't see how he's gonna get out of this one... Hogan hears the chants from the crowd... 'Ho-GAN! Ho-GAN Ho-GAN! He's Hulking-Up! He's... Oh my God! Hogan's leg melted right off! Unbelievable!"
