Happy Halloween! It is raining. It always seems to rain on Halloween, as I trudge diligently from door to door with the kid, collecting candy that I will sort and eat and eat and eat.

I seriously wish that people only gave out Smarties. I have no desire to eat Smarties.

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The J-Man is going to be a punk rock zombie, so we have covered a shirt in blood and cuts to make it look as if he has been mauled, and it looks good. I am also going to fauxhawk his hair (the logistics of this remain to be seen), probably with an old-school mixture of Elmer’s glue and water, because that’s how we did it back in the day. I am nothing if not old school.

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I have also assembled a fine array of MAC eye shadows with which to paint his face, and I must admit that I am a Very Good face-painter. Case in point: Last Halloween’s Duality:

RAWR.

Actually this is how I look most of the time.

I love makeup, and zombie makeup will be even more fun, because zombies rule.

I am slightly afraid to go trick-or-treating because last year there was some psychotic freak wielding an actual chainsaw around the neighborhood, scaring people half to death. I sort of enjoyed this, but the kids Lost Their Damn Minds.

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I don’t really have a costume this year, sadly. I have last year’s Geisha Slut costume, but I don’t know whether I really feel like lacing myself into a corset this year.

All women’s costumes are slutty. I defy you to find anything that is not ass-baring or does not come with cutesy little thigh-highs.

I like slutty little thigh-highs, but there’s a time and a place for such accoutrements.

Ahem.

In other news, the dating site is SHO’ turning up some winners so far.

I made very sure to put into my profile A: I am a single mom but am NOT looking for a baby-daddy, and B: I cannot drive, so most of the responses I am getting I sense are from the very bottom of the dating barrel.

There was a headless guy, who I can only assume is disfigured or married. There was the guy who flexed his manly arms while shirtless in his profile photo. There was the man who was twice my age. And then there was “YOU ARE BOTIFUL, WRITE ME BACK PLZ.”

I feel botiful.

So far, I remain unimpressed. I have scanned through some of the other men, and apparently a LOT of these guys read Nietzsche.

I smell douchebaggery.

Not that reading Nietzsche (Christ, am I even SPELLING it right? – That’s how intellectual I am) is bad, but I sense quite strongly with my spidey-senses that most of these dudes have never cracked Nietzsche and are instead attempting to be intellectual and deep and wise in a vain attempt to get sex.

And that’s just…wrong.

That’s as wrong as me saying that I am a former adult film star in hopes of getting sex.

Not that I didn’t consider this.

“You mean you didn’t SEE Jenny does Jacksonville? For shame!”

Yeah.

So, a lot of Nietzsche-reading, headless, muscle-y douchebags so far. I would pretty much kill for one honest, cool e-mail.

Maybe I’ll meet a hot dad while I’m out trick-or-treating tonight.

You nevah know.

Happy Halloween.

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