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Meg 2010

Meg 2010  parody    Click on image for full size

A Guide To Being A Halloween Vampire

Yes, it’s that time of year again: You go shopping for your kids’ Halloween costumes, but inexplicably end up spending more money on yourself. Blue wig—check. Vampire teeth hand-crafted by your dentist—check. $120 for 1 oz of Cle De Peau Ivory foundation (vampire make up for your sensitive skin.)—check.

Used to be that Halloween was one night of merriment, but as often happens in a country with a consumer-based economy, through the years, the holiday has gotten stretched out from a day-to-a-weekend-to-a-week-to-a-month.

So you’ve decided this year to go “old-school.” You’re going to be a vampire. However, there are some things that you need to know. The rules have changed. More often than not, your suburban Halloween vampire looks like an overweight opera singer with grotesque Goth-band make up and a dodgy spray-on black hairdo from a can.

If you look in a Halloween store and find the “Vampire Section” The picture of the male Dracula model on the cape and plastic teeth combo package, looks like his diet is less virginal blood-based and more French brie-based, and his make-up looks as if it was done by his special needs six year-old daughter.

It doesn’t have to be that way. Here are your new and improved choices starting with the classics, moving towards the ridiculous. Pick the vampire to model yourself after based on your looks, body type, and personality.

Here are your 10 choices. Happy costume shopping!!!!!!

Redd Foxx’s catchphrase befits this iconic vampire’s image. If you’ve not been blessed generously in the handsome department, consider Nosferatu.

Dracula: The classic vampire. One-third Rudy Valentino, one-third bat, one-third heroin addict.

1970s English Dracula: Christopher Lee. If you can handle the bleeding eyes effect, and you’re tall, thin, and distinguished, this might be the vampire look for you.

Unless you look a lot like Jack Bauer, you might be a lost vampire.

The beginning of the end if you are anti “Pretty-boy vampire.” The Vampire Lestat as played by a goofy Scientologist

Gary “Old-Man” ‘s Dracula is worth a look, especially if you happen to look like a 300 year-old Glenn Close.

If you’re pretty and have good hair you might want to do the Edward. There might be more soft touching and nuzzling than tearing into a virgin’s jugular, but what do you want?

If you’re a 70 year-old Rabbi, you might want to take this route. Of course you still might look better than Grampa Munster.

Kids will love you as this vampire, and their blood is fresh and untainted with the Earth’s pollutants…but I’ve already said too much.

If this is what you’re left with just run with it. You won’t scare anyone but you might have someone tell you that you’re quite yummy.

Get Out Your Butterfly Nets

Thanks to the small army of insane men and women roaming the San Francisco Bay Area streets, it is possible to observe a large variety of conversational monologists. While it is not politically correct to refer to the mentally disturbed as “insane,” I feel in my case it is okay, because for all you or I know, I might be “insane.” And if I am “insane,” by the unwritten rules of modern day name-calling I can call “insane” people whatever I want–right?

There are different types of conversational monologists.

The Angry Ranter might threaten violence, as they play out moments in their life, screaming something that they said, or wish they had said. These are the ones you have to watch for, because more often than not, they don’t want anything from you, and therefore have no reason not to shank you with a rusty corkscrew. If confronted by The Angry Ranter, stand your ground and slowly walk backwards while making a bleating sound like a baby goat hungry for its mother’s teat.

Mr. Mumbles sits quietly on the park bench talking to imaginary pigeons who are eating imaginary scraps of food that he dropped from an imaginary sandwich, bought with his imaginary money which he earned from his imaginary job. Mr. Mumbles is safe to sit next to if you’re waiting for a bus, but don’t get started in a conversation about life being like a box of chocolates.

Cellphone Bluetooth Prick is the most obnoxious monologist. If I see someone (dressed in business attire) gesturing and yelling randomly while walking down the street, I am unsettled. I secretly hope that the man has just lost his life savings on a bad stock deal. However, this kind of wishing can lead to dangerous consequences. Cellphone Bluetooth Prick’s life may be spiraling downwards and he might want to take someone down with him. Perhaps he might be on the brink of purchasing a high-powered rifle; minutes away from embarking on a spree, of the non-shopping variety. Fears are assuaged however, when the Cellphone Bluetooth Prick stops every ten seconds to meekly say, “Can you hear me now?”

The Whitney Houston Syndrome Monologists vary in levels of irritation. They were probably once told by someone that they have a nice singing voice, and so they demonstrate their skills (not by applying to be a contestant on American Idol) but by roaming the city streets and public transportation wearing headphones while singing loudly and out of tune, scaring passing children and small dogs. These are the most selfish of monologists because they don’t hear the torture they are serving.

The Delusional Writer Monologist is usually locked away in his studio apartment molding his borderline tasteless, semi-amusing gibberish into something tangible. He’s usually editing his manifesto or working on that hilarious buddy cop screenplay. However, every now and again he will leave the security of his writing environment to sit in a café or a bar with his notepad and pen and chuckle as he reads his musings to himself. Occasionally someone might overhear his mumblings and interrupt to ask, “Are you a writer?”

His answer of course, is “No, I’m just insane.”

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