Thalia Was A Muse...There'll Be A Quiz Later

Right. I watched "Thirteen" last night. As if I needed another reason to loathe society and its ramifications on women. I mean seriously. Fuck. I just don't get it. But whatever, sooner or later a new aeon will dawn and the world will be bathed in blood. Or so says Blood Omen. Damn that was a good game. I wish all games had stories like that. Good times and noodle salad.
So I went on a spending spree and bought a bunch of t-shirts.
I miss Boston. I like cities.
I don't know if I wrote this before and I am too lazy to check so I will tell you about my Halloween costume from a few years ago. So at the graduate school of the college at BU I attended we had this event on Halloween called a "Boo's Cruise." You paid for your ticket and you had to wear a costume and you rode around in Boston Harbor getting seven types of drunk. Well, let me preface this by saying that I HATE dressing up for Halloween. I think it is retarded.
Anyway, my first costume idea was shot down in a matter of seconds. I was hanging out with this group of people and through the reading of this here posting you will come to realize their level of tragicness. I wanted to dress up like Jesus only wearing a big assed purple pimp hat. I was going to be, "Carl: Brother of Jesus, Lover of Women." That was apparently a no-go with these people. I ran a few other ideas past them in attempts to find a costume. All were shot down and even received with complete disgust. You'd have thought I just kicked their dog with some of the looks I got.
Then genius strikes and I have the perfect costume. I decide not to tell anyone because this idea is so perfect I want no one to ruin it. I go to Mass General and rent a wheelchair. Next I put on an obnoxiously thick turtleneck sweater I have. I am all set. People start showing up in their cliché costumes and we begin drinking. Everyone is asking me where my costume is. Now I should mention that you HAVE to wear a costume to this event or else you are not allowed on the boat. I tell them I am wearing it and suspicion arises.
We are about to leave and I roll out the wheelchair. Moans and whispers begin. I then go to my linen closet and get out my Superman towel. Now I don't think you understand how perfect this is. My Superman towel is awesome. It is just the logo. No picture of him or anything. So it looks like a cape as I drape it from the back of my wheelchair, grab a beer and my ticket and say, "Let's roll."
Well I got a collective, "Fuck NO!," for that one.
"That is really offensive to dress up like Christopher Reeves."
"The fuck it is. It's funny. And if by some chance someone on this boat has been kicked by a horse and can't walk, I'll apologize."
They MADE me not go as the crippled super hero.
So we have like 30 minutes before we have to get on this boat. Where the hell am I going to find a costume on Halloween night? Nowhere that's where.
So I just go in regular clothes. We take the train and I am asking everyone on the T what they thought of my previous costume. Everyone whom aren't the people I go to school with find it funny. I continuously inform my school chums of their suck.
I get to the docks and the girl says that she can't let me on without a costume. I respond with, "I'm a belligerent drunk...bitch."
I spent Halloween in a bar in South Boston.