Halloqueen

I dressed as a goddess for Halloween, which to be quite honest, is not much of a stretch for me. I went to a party that the ladies downsatirs threw. I told everyone I was Terpsikhore, and when they said, "Huh?" I kicked them in the privates and danced away.

I wore a nice little white flowing number, and I walked around with a bunch of grapes while guzzling Chardonnay out of a goblet that probably wasn't Greek, but who the hell knows what the Greeks actually drank out of? It's very hard to get across the message that you're supposed to be Greek without resorting to such stupid clichés. I mean, if I was a man, I could just walk around with a boy's ass stuck on my cock, but that doesn't really work for a goddess.

Of course, the night was completely ruined by two stupid, stupid wymyn. One came as Hillary Clinton, with a rubber mask and a lime green pantsuit, and the other came as Sarah Palin, with spikey red heels, her hair up in a bun, and those horrible, horrible glasses.

I mean, what the fuck, you can't afford lasik? Maybe you should make your "fans" tip better.

Anyways, these two bitches kept making jokes about what great vice-presidents they'd be, much better than Joe Biden, and I just got incensed. Who the hell are they to go around implying Obama doesn't have excellent judgment? So I got all up in their faces and started shouting truth to power.

But, I'd had a lot of wine, so I had to lie down for a second in the middle to catch my breath, and the fucking hostessess threw me out! Oh yeah? Is that the way it's gonna be? I don't think I'll be stepping lightly upstairs at night from now on. And on Tuesday night, you can kiss my (sympathetically) black ass as Joe Biden becomes the V.P.

In. Your. Face. Bitches.