Broken Frontier

I’m sure I’m not the only warm-blooded, slightly perverted American dude to notice that Halloween has become a great time of year to see women of all shapes and sizes embrace their inner sexy. You have to admit, the days of hitting a party and seeing female costumes hanging down to the ground with excessive fabric are long gone, and in their place is a seemingly new and overly abundant supply of “hot” and “erotic” outfits ranging the gamut from everything to whorish cats to flirtatious superheroes.

But while we no doubt all anticipate what gifts this Halloween will bring to our many fantasies, I can’t help but always spoil the fun by using the famous October holiday as a reason to strip down myself, and in the process, destroy fantasies one exposed testicle at a time.

I realize you’re probably throwing up in your mouths at the horrific thought of me sauntering around in high heels and a pair of bunny ears, but let me assure you, that’s not the kind of stripping down I’m talking about. No, I’m talking about pushing the limits of man costumes by embracing two things that get more laughs than anything else on Halloween… nudity and nostalgia.

Will Farrell does it well. Chris Farley did it great. No matter how you slice it though, if you’re slightly fearless and even remotely confident, showing a little strategic skin can turn any party on its head and bring you not only a series of well deserved high fives, but maybe even a costume award or two.

In my first year of shedding a few layers, I chose to reach deep into my childhood and pull a costume from the only place that a kid can admire a man in underwear and have his parents be okay with it… professional wrestling.

That year was my first leap into showing off the goods, and it turned out to be a resounding success. As Hulk Hogan, aka the immortal one, I went with his early look… yellow trunks (which were essentially tighty whities that I dyed yellow), wrist bands (again, dyed yellow), knee pads (once again… dyed yellow), a killer wig that did a damn fine job of representing Hogan in his heyday, a handlebar mustache (groomed from a the wig cause I can’t grow one myself), and most importantly, “I Am A Real American” streaming through my head, the best theme song of all time.

Needless to say, all of the Hulkamaniacs in attendance at that party rose to their feet and cheered as I flexed my 10 inch pythons. They also went the extra mile, voting yours truly into the winners circle for the Best Costume award.

And to think, all it took was a little skin.

A year later I opted to up the ante a little bit more, putting the Hulkster in the rearview mirror as I put someone new into the driver’s seat… Prince!

With bright blue dance pants that I strategically cut the butt cheeks out of, I showed my assets to anyone and everyone that Halloween as the Artist Formerly Known as Jason M. Burns. Hugging in places that clothing should never hug on a man, those should-be illegal pants were bad enough from the front, but once you saw me walking away, you got the full (moon) effect of the entire outfit, which also consisted of a wig, a pencil thin mustache (that I actually grew myself that time around), a few assorted chest hairs, a guitar, and most importantly, “When the Doves Cry” streaming through the head, the best Prince song to think about when dressed as the man himself.

That year I also won an award… something along the lines of “Most 80s” or “Most Creatively Nauseating”… or something like that. Regardless, my whole point is, why should we let the women have all the fun around Halloween as they turn their tricks and treats? I say embrace your inner Adam and brandish a fig leaf if want to! Throw on a green thong bikini and go as Borat! Sport a diaper and go as yourself in 50 years! Who cares… Just don’t limit yourselves to clothes.

But here’s one thing to keep in mind…

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October is a really cold time of year, at least in my neck of the woods. You might want to consider a rolled up sock.