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I was an angel on halloween 

ARE YOU A TRICK OR A TREAT? 
After work, I swung by the CCC where they were celebrating Edwina's birthday.  Everyone shared a birthday wish and then answered that question.  I said I'd be a treat, and my dear friend interjected: yeah, a treat with a trick inside.  Yes I had devil horns on at the time, but why don't people believe that I'm an angel anymore? 

THE PENIS WAS TOO FAST 
Kimi and I chased a ten-foot penis (complete with smiley face and two balloons for balls in the back of his tan light colored shorts that jiggled like...) down 4th Avenue.  We wanted him to slow down so we could take a picture but he was quick and wouldn't stop. 

Halloween (at least in San Diego, a city that loves any excuse to celebrate and be drunk in the streets) is like Mardi Gras in the Gaslamp, but with costumes instead of beads: 

For guys, the MOST creative or funny costumes keeps the ladies flocking to touch (Wilson and Abe, the bubble wrap people) or to taste (the Corona six pack) or to not touch but still look (the Peter Pan wearing a green triangle of fabric covering his gludious maximus and a frying pan cover his, um, peter). 
For women, on the other hand, the LEAST costumes (the most skin revealing or suggestive outfits) prove to be the crowd favorites (even though, for the record, I thought Rainbow Bright rocked).  We all partied sexy, but not too scandalous? Timi didn't wear her buy-me-drink shoes, but she also didn't wear her engagement ring ("It's not like that Joy, I was doing my hair and then was in a rush to pick you up").  She looked quite wicked in all black outfit (topped by black sequined devil horns!) with just the red on her feet and pitchfork.  (Tangent: At the Halloween costume shop, I planned on buying a four foot plastic pitchfork, but a workers pointed out the sparkly one saying, Are you gonna be the devil?  Don't you want a sexier pitchfork?) 

KISS FROM AN ANGEL 
No one gave me any candy, but I carried a small bag of Hershey's and gave all hallows revelers little (almond) Kisses all night.  And, wandering the catwalk we call San Diego's Gaslamp district downtown, I did get a pumpkin.  Maybe it was the pitchfork I was holding... 

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