I hurriedly vanquished each coping mechanism stage of folicle loss while sneakily snatching reflections in Lucky's Liquiteria's mirror panelled columns. Acceptance quickly set in. Knew I would be touching up this new doo back in the safety of my crib. Few snips and this drastic hair change would be mostly palatable.

Bounced out the shop with my papaya smoothie, enjoying a responsibilty free Tuesday afternoon.

That curmudgeonly shearing Rasputin actually removed marketable metric weight from my head. The curly hair, unfettered by hanging pressure, sprouted wings. Luckily, my theory based on past occurences, proved true. The plummage calmed down the next day. And if it's at all possible, has made me even more impishly adorable, and ultimately, extra cocky.

Treacherously, the avatars of summer tenaciously ferment. Still, jabs of heat, from the flammable deathball in the sky, have successfully invaded the Autumn calm. Curse you Heat Miser.

By the good graces of the Great Pumpkin, the absolute splendiferous time of year benefitted from the recent unusual warmer climes. Sweet sweet Halloween sauntered in Gotham with a pregnancy in the air. I could taste the latex and lace sexy costumes being sprawled out on apartment beds in all directions. My favorite day was gonna be a ripe ass peach of joy.

I knew the randomness of the day would not fail me. No preparations made on my end. Borrowed an afro wig from the brother and sister LES homies moments before party gatherings were about to start. Rushed home for a more flamboyant shirt and some smoother footwear. Basically, I was going for a silly looking pornstar. Fluffing out the stay puff fro in my pal's mirror, I slightly begrudged my slacker procastination. Of course a Gandalf wizard/pimp outfit would have been fly. No grey robes about. Decided the casual reality of my costume had no strength in defeating my party hormones.

Greased the Green Lantern gears. More than a baker's dozen of revellers building up preswill moods. Uncramped ourselves from a tiny Manhattan livingroom. Motivated to the fete.

I partially macked on a geeky chick, decent body. She also employed the wig only Halloween defense. With the common wig bond established early, conversation became inevitable. After she proclaimed the only reason she enjoyed the social life was the fingerfood, I was relieved she began scanning the crowd for her date. Deep in minutes of her minature quiche dissertation, I was throwing deuces for an easy out. Tried my best to creep her out. Pretended to be distracted by my friends and it was thankfully over.

I chilled on the couch, enjoying my high and trippin off everyone dancing to nu wave madness. Being ostensibly an observer, I find partaking of the monkey behavior voyeurism extremely satisfying. People always concerned I am having a miserable time. Few of the girls in the posse sidled up on the cushion next to me to console me. Always been difficult convincing others I am earnestly alright and not sulking in my own puddle of antisocial tendencies.

Our clan moved the festivites to a bar directly across the street from the five story walk up we had just finished invading. Horrible swill house. Full of meatheads. Was told only fags dress up on Halloween. Mentioned that I was happy being the dressed up fag hanging with four ladies while he and his obviously tragically heterosexual sausage dangling friends were rubbing their half empty beer mugs on their lonely sock padded crotches. Was not received well. Fortunate for me, I don't get baited into retarded fisticuffs with playground taunts. If those fratboys were the kind of retarded that get assholey with the women, i.e. inappropriate touch, I would have been happy to introduce them to the style of rage brewed on city streets lurking behind my knuckles. Pushed my way through their shoulders and headed to the bar's backyard.

One portion of the party posse, that I had just met that night, hooked up with homies from Maryland. Including a naughty pirate with her tits popping out from under her chin. She actually had the delightful small and perky numbers I prefer to see bouncing down the avenue, just deceptively cantilevered by her fun bra. Also blonde handlebar braided ponytails, a bubble butt and delightful doe eyes. So, she and I were having plenty of wet orgasms in my mind.

Mack switch turned on again.

At one point it was necessary for me to screw her tongue stud back in. My fingers lightly brushing up against her soft lips, firm two finger grip on her tongue. Small wavy licker. Felt good on the skin. We hit it off.

Sigh, her and her pals on a flight back the next afternoon. Almost, just almost, escorted her back to my place. I could tell she would have dumped unlimited moisture on my cock. The morning shuffling panic ain't all that cool anymore. Anyway, my grown ass man rationality won out.

My man Luke couldn't sneak me into Kush after hours. He experienced an awful spooky night of work. Plenty of idiots for him to clean after. Working in a bar has some serious drawbacks. Especially when the perks, like chillin with your homies after the official game over buzzers blare, are obliterated. He told me to head over to his sister's place.

Woof. She was hammered. Her one pal poured herself into a fetal position on the couch. The other was attempting to keep up with her manic inebriated thought and dance patterns. She cussed me out for being a bad influence on her baby brother. I shut down all my verbal response centers. Could tell defending my healthy slack was a thick stinky brick wall. Apparently she doesn't even recall me showing up. Good ole firewater. I passed out with a cat snuggling my shoulder.

I really should have juiced that shortie honey. Have yet to peel off a naughty pirate outfit from a delicious creature. Christ, she wanted to fuck too. Stupid rational spanky. More hunting must be done, and has been done this long Hallows week's end. Will leave further lascivious reports for the next go round. Peace out munchkins.