Sabs' Crap-Comedy

Bobbing for Apples

Halloween sucks.

By the way I know this post is tons late, but life got in the way.

Anyways, Halloween sucks ass, no offense to anyone’s treasured behind. I know there’s a lot of people that love it, but I think they’re just psychopaths in the making. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m scared of things that are scary, and DO NOT like being scared. I mean, it’s instinctual: We feel fear because of our renowned “fight or flight” impulses; fear’s the emotion that warns our conscious selves that we’re in danger. I don’t like feeling like I’m in danger. I am rational, everyone else is just a masochist.

Other than common sense, I’ve always found the holiday unnecessarily unhygienic. Why? Oh dear Readers, I will tell you why.

Did your elementary school ever host a halloween fair (and all the diseases that come with it). Well, mine did. Dozens of little girls and boys showed up all primped and made up, but would leave covered in silly string, candy, dirt, and fake blood. If I had been some kid’s mother, I would have forced the teachers to bathe my child: If I lend you something that’s clean, I expect to have it returned in the same condition.

It’s not only the fact that sugar is sticky, but mix that in with grubby fingers and dirty sweat in the Miami humidity, and that’s how I became literate in a petri dish. And to make matters worse, the teachers would come up with elaborate ways to torture me even more. For example, bobbing for apples. They’d lay out these metal tins filled with water, lukewarm apples floating in a swirl of grassy water. Fun, right? People don’t realize how messy this heart-warming activity really is: So much grime gets spilled into the tub, saliva, the dirt under their fingernails, candy covered hair, wrappers, sweaty face paint. Did I ever participate? Not willingly.

And yes, I know I’m a grown up now and it would be bizarre to find myself in a situation where I’d be bobbing for apples (this is a wonderful innuendo and NOW IT’S MINE), but Halloween is still not fun. I understand the allure behind the fun costumes, people like being paid attention to, but the next time you rent a Chewbacca costume just think about the last idiot who used it and probably puked on himself while doing so. Do you really think that a costume rental place gives a fuck about your cleanliness? Nah, they know you’re there as a last resort and that you aren’t really in a position to argue. Think about that the next time you think it would be hilarious to rent a Borat speedo*.

In short, Halloween is dirty. Of course, you already knew this, you smooth operators, you. In young adulthood, Halloween is the holiday of slutdom. You can deny it all you want, but we all have a secret desire to transform into alleged sex kittens. Me, personally, I wouldn’t like to screw the stranger that fancied himself Indiana Jones. It’s weak. Getting laid on Halloween is easy, because people give themselves away like the candy that gets traded between children. You are no sex God(dess) if you bang someone on Halloween; you’re just average. Same applies for St. Patty’s, New Year’s, and Valentine’s Day. But, if you manage to get laid on like Mother’s Day, hats off to you, MotherFucker.

But anyways, whether you’re bobbing for apples or, well, bobbing for apples on Halloween night, I just want you to know that I think you’re dirty.

The end.

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