Yes it’s Hallowe’en. No I don’t want to see your gooch.

4 Nov

I love Hallowe’en as much as the next fat kid. I’m all over it like a tramp on chips. It means for one day of my life, I can wake up, get out of bed, not put on any make-up and generally walk around like the munterish slob that I am, and yet people will still think I’ve made a conscious effort to look that fugly.

It’s an excuse to eat even MORE junk than usual. You can be creative and cut shit shapes into large fruit. For some girls, it’s an excuse to knock on random neighbourhood doors in the hope that your future husband may be waiting behind one of them. (I don’t do that…) For some guys, it’s a way of hiding in dark alleyways ready to commit the most violent crimes, and fob it off as a Hallowe’en “trick”. It’s a valid way of scaring the bejeezus out of unsuspecting small children without getting arrested, just because it’s funny. Everyone’s a winner.

Everyone, that is, except for anybody that has EYES and happens to be outdoors after 7pm. For beware the Curse of the Exposed Flange.

Somehow, somewhere, appear a generation of females that think it’s OK to use Hallowe’en as an excuse to LITERALLY get their wounds out. I, for one, do NOT appreciate seeing readily available gooch wherever I turn my head.

The other night I had the absolute displeasure of sitting at the train station opposite not one, but TWO peeping vaginas. Added to that, my eye was nearly poked out by an unsheathed nipple. Apparently it is now effort enough to wear what I can only describe as NO CLOTHES, draw a couple of stitches on your neck with an eyeliner pencil, et voila, you are now a zombie prossie. I know the look is meant to be monstrous, but this really takes the word “growler” to a whole new level. Whatever happened to just wearing a bed-sheet with eye holes?

I honestly do love Hallowe’en. But please, ladies, for the love of GOD (and for the sake of my visual and mental health), put your minge away.

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