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October 29, 2010
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Well, it finally happened. For the first time in my life, I was told by a woman friend of mine that someone is going to be me for Halloween this year. When I asked for justification, they told me that they didn't have any money to buy an elaborate costume, and that I could be thrown together with "very little effort".

My first reaction was anger, but I soon came to respect how much they disrespected me.

The person impersonating me is named Sam. Apparently, as Sam and her friends thumbed through pictures of me on Facebook to build out the costume, they were astonished by the similarity of our two body types. Sam is a modestly-breasted woman, and I am a generously-breasted man. We are about the same height, with the same child-bearing hips. Sam is four months pregnant with a sperm bank baby, and I'm four years plump-bellied with a combination of saturated fat and unidentifiable goo. Sam is a radical liberal vegan, with a blonde mustache. I'm disinterested and hairy. We both wear a men's size-10 bowling shoe...

They bought a beige rubber swimming cap to stretch over Sam's head/hair, and will use a black marker to dot-up artificial stubble in the formation of a cul-de-sac balding pattern. To finish off her face, Sam is going to shave off a patch of fur from the area surrounding the base of her Labrador's tail, because the colors closely resemble my face fur, and will temporarily glue it into her face, with the appearance of a beard.

The rest of the outfit was fairly simple, they dove into a clothing donation bin in the parking lot of a Walgreen's, grabbed the first v-cut sweater and dark pair of jeans that they could find, squirted some mustard on the left shoulder of the sweater, and poured a dab of extra-virgin olive oil on the jeans at the crest of the inseam (nothing implied, there's just an odd stain at the crest of the inseam on my favorite jeans).

Sam was able to round-up a group of five children from a local At-Risk Youth program to follow her around the entire evening. They thought it would be nice to have a pack of kids constantly hitting her (resembling me) in the crotch with authentic looking whiffle bats, and yelling, "BREAK IT!" "BREAK IT!" "NO MORE YOOOOOOU'S!!!". Which actually happened at my cousin's elementary school during a year-end pep assembly that I attended last spring.

The only thing that makes me angry about this whole thing is that I was going to hang out with these ladies on Halloween, but I didn't plan to dress up as anyone. Now, if I don't dress up, I will look like Sam. If Sam looks like me, then there's a lingering possibility that her pack of bat-swinging bully children will gravitate from her crotch, to mine. And my crotch just recently recovered from the initial incident that they are planning to reenact at Halloween. But, I can't miss this party because they are going to be serving Lil' Smokies, and they'll have a salad bar with Bacon Bits. My favorite treat is a meat sunday blended with Lil' Smokies and Bacon Bits.

So, I'm forced to decide between the only two costumes that I have: A Toyota Prius outfit that I made out of a refrigerator cardboard box. Or, my Squail costume. A Squail is a mythical creature that has the head of a squirrel, and the body of a blue whale. I took out a personal loan two years ago for three thousand dollars to pay a seamstress to recreate one of my Squail drawings into a foam suit. It takes me over an hour to get out of the costume, so I had her build in a potty pouch. A sharp piece of candy corn punctured it last year, which became an issue after it soaked into the foam. I'll probably just Febreeze it, and wear that.

Until next time: If someone wearing you wears you out, wear better wear, so that others wear others, and it is your wear that fairs without.
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