I fucking hate Halloween.

It’s amateur night for people too ashamed to dress sexy any other time of the year. Sexy nurse. Sexy librarian. Sexy serial killer. It’s like when I go to a bachelorette party for one of my backward high school friends and she gets “joke” gifts of “joke” lingerie and cheap hot-pink vibrators. Big joke, right, Tiffany? If you knew what your cunt could really do, you’d leave that plastic shit behind and put on some quality underwear for your schlub fiancé to rip off. But I digress.

Me, I dress sexy all the time. Low-cut cleavage shirts a size too small. Short skirts. Scandalous cutoffs. Nothing I’m not comfortable in, but nothing that doesn’t say, “I’m comfortable in my skin.” That’s why I’m over... Read More