All of my friends call me a Jew because of how I am with money (see: Paying off trailer). So this year for Halloween I decided to humor them and dress like one too:
Since one of my favorite things to do is mock religion, I got my girlfriend to join in the fun as well. Since her last name is Pope, she dressed like a nun.
We also went so far as to carve pumpkins that matched our religious costumes:
That was all fun and good, but our "Holy Trinity" was not complete until our friend Slutty Jesus showed up!
I didn't want my guests to be thirsty (or sober) so I got a keg for the occasion.
Once the beer was flowing, plenty of mayhem ensued:
At one point during the party, I was showing off the brutality of my 840 Watt surround sound system by blasting Slayer really loud. Well, if there's one thing cranky old trailer park ladies don't like, it's Slayer. Around 10:45, someone told me a cop was at the door. I looked out the window and saw a guy with the word "POLICE" emblazoned across his chest. I questioned whether it was a real cop or someone in a costume who wanted to party. It was a real cop.
I stepped out to talk to him and he informed me two people complained about my loud music. But, he seemed to be more annoyed that someone called in since he had already been on a couple noise complaint calls. He understood that people wanted to party on Halloween weekend and almost seemed like he wished he could be getting hammered instead of working. Besides, the noise ordinance starts at fucking 11 PM so I couldn't even get a ticket for it. He told me to keep it down and have fun, then went on his way. Now the mayhem could continue:
Towards the end of the party, I for some reason decided that many beers, shots of Jaegermeister, Rum Chata, and homemade Apple Pie weren't enough. I decided to bust out the bottle of Jack Daniels' I was given for a birthday gift and drink it straight. That was a horrible idea. Some time after everyone left when I was passing out on my couch, I puked my guts out.
In the end it was a fitting celebration of the 26th anniversary of the birth of Trailer Park Charlie. The ensuing hangover was a wicked one that is normally only reserved for New Years Day. It was one of those "I'm never drinking again" kind of days. But don't worry, that sentiment didn't last. After all, I have a reputation to uphold!