An open letter to Halloween costumes of the female persuasion.

To the girls in the little skimpy costumes, shaking their well-defined booties, this isn’t for you. You keep shaking that awesome booty.The costumes that come pre packaged in every tacky dress up store – I’m looking at you, you little Halloween Minxes.

There you are. Rows and rows of Sexy Nurse, Sexy Policewoman, Sexy Red Riding Hood, Sexy Alien (probably). To every costume with one defining characteristic and skirt hiked up to your wearer’s vagina – I’m talking to you.

We don’t speak often, you and I, but there’s something I need to say:

This Halloween, could you pretty please, like, not make an appearance? 

If you could stay neatly folded in your little plastic bags for another year, that would be great.

It’s not you, it’s me. It’s about me not liking you. You see, while you are a very cute little costume, and yes, just a little but fun, I have a bit of beef with you – you are completely, 100% creative-free.

Maybe you don’t know this, dear Halloween Slut, but one of the greatest aspects of dressing up is, well, dressing up. Throwing together the clothes you never wear for a one-night only extravaganza. Finding the courage to try new makeup, to put eyeliner in some funky places. It’s a time to release your inner artist, stylist, and asylum escapee all in one glorious night of Tricking and Treating and probably Tweeting.

And you, Halloween slut, just don’t allow that to happen.

You just make it too damn easy. You flirt with so many girls Casanova himself would lick your feet. You let a girl put you on, for one night only, and suddenly she is lost in the costume. YOU are now more important that HER, you know what I mean?

So please, Halloween Flirts, just stay away this year. Stay one the shelf, and conjure up something nice about the Sexy Policewoman and the Sexy Receptionist. Let the ladies get a little creative this year, and make a costume or two.

Do this for me, and I’ll give you some candy. Promise.

Love,

Alex

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