The Halloween 'Tard Fiasco, Part 1 - December 18, 2006

(Reconditioning Batteries)

I always wear silly 80's hair metal costumes for Halloween. So easy - wig, tight jeans...it's the easiest low budget get up that girls somehow find attractive. Well, at least drunk girls at a Halloween party find it attractive. If I get out of control drunk and start breaking furniture, I'm in character. It just works. I guess if I had to pray to a god, I would pray to the one that made sure that women my age had big sisters with Motley Crue posters smeared with lip
gloss above their beds growing up.

Figure 1.1) A typical KungFu Mike Halloween costume.

2005. Mid October. I had just been laid off from my job back in New Hampshire, so I was at home leisurely cruising around the internet a few days prior to Halloween looking for a half decent Kip Winger wig when I saw it - a vivid, clear-as-day picture popped into my head out of nowhere that had me laughing so hard that the laughing turned into spastic coughing. The vision was glorious; it was perfection. I could barely contain myself as I started putting the pieces of the costume together in my bedroom. I didn't even notice the frozen pizza burning in my oven. All I could think about was the costume. There would be no wig. There would be no spandex. There would be no Adidas high top wrestling sneakers. This year was going to be different. This year I was going to go as a special needs child.

Helmet? Check.

Undersized short sleeve button down shirt? Check.

Pants up to my nipples? Check.

As the deadline came closer, I kept coming up with new additions to the 'tard ensemble. I had a decent severance package that I was living on and I had managed to save enough money so that I had a little cushion. The job market sucked and I was sick of shooting finely tailored resumes to unresponsive human resource departments. This was fascinating - not just the costume itself, but the thought of what people were going to think when they saw me in it. Were they going to freak out and scream to me about their retarded little brothers and sisters at home? "THAT'S NOT FUNNY, MAN! MY BROTHER HAS TO WEAR A HELMET!!!" Would they burst into laughter and buy me a shot of Jack? Fucking Christ, this beat interviewing by a landslide.

Teddy bear? Check.

Corrective shoes? Check.

Kiddie leash? Check.


10/31/05. 9:00 pm. I met up with my friend Seth to go to some blowout Halloween bash at a local bar that was going to close its doors permanently the following day. He took one look at my costume and literally fell over on the sidewalk laughing, tears streaming down his face. He was scared that he wasn't going to be able to hook up with girls all night, and it took some convincing for him to walk down the street with me, let alone be seen with me at a bar. I literally had to stand on the sidewalk and persuade him to go through with it while pedestrians gawked and rushed their children past me.

The place was packed to capacity. Ugly nurses, ugly school girls, the occasional dude in a lame pimp costume, ugly Playboy bunnies, a pair of meatheads dressed up as the Boondock Saints...picture any lame - o, unoriginal office Halloween party filled with lame - o, unoriginal coworkers. Now pick it up and move it into a dimly lit club setting. Voila; you're there with me.

I started getting noticed when I was plowing my way through the sea of ugly towards the bar. "Holy shit, that is hysterical!" "What the fuck? Is he fucking serious?!" "Man, fuck that kid. That shit is mean." Their comments spanned the entire possible gamut before I had even gotten the bartender's attention. I was so proud of my costume that I just had to celebrate.

Seth and I were annihilated. I had a new drink bought for me by some stranger every time I put my glass down, and I only had time to drink them between high-fiving every third person that walked by and giving fat girls the John Basedow flex poses whenever they would look over at me. Some random dude walked over to me during this point of the night and said, "Whoa brother, your costume is great! The more you drink, the more you're in character!"

That's when it hit me - the 'tard costume actually had the same benefits as the rocker costume. I was invincible.

"I don't know about you, Seth...but I'm dancing."

"Yeah, let's dance the fucking shit out of these people."

Five minutes later, the once packed dance floor was all but cleared, only a pack of wily Asian women remained in the corner huddled together. Seth and I, flailing around like a set of Down syndrome stricken whirling dervishes to the beat of some awful techno, inched our way closer and closer to the unsuspecting group while everyone on the sidelines pointed and laughed. I started dry humping them. Not even dancing at this point - I was literally pounding my crotch against the ass of one of them with no rhythm whatsoever. They turned towards us, screamed and ran off of the floor - all of them but the girl that I was mime fucking - she stayed...and she backed that shit up.

She never looked at me; she just started gyrating her cute little ass into my crotch. She took my hands and started rubbing them all over her hips, slowly moving up to her breasts. For a minute there I forgot why I was on the dance floor in the first place. We were both grinding, I was kissing her neck and she started slipping her hands behind her into the front of my pants. That's when she turned around, looked at me, screamed and ran off into the bathroom, never to be seen again. The laughter from the crowd roared over the music. I was a fucking hero.

Posted by KungFu Mike at 10:34 PM

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Damn you for making me laugh out loud while in a room by myself, yet still within earshots of roommates who now think I'M retarded.


I'm glad that your power of wonderful ideas just popping into your head from nowhere is coupled with a talent for words. And the addition of photos to this one is perfect!

Posted by: Crystal at December 19, 2006 12:36 AM

That is definitely on the fine line between stupid and clever.

What happens next?

Posted by: TheDoctor at December 19, 2006 12:58 AM

Nice work, very classy effort on your part. I would have loved to have seen the expression on that girl's face. Shame she couldn't have continued the game, you do make a rather attractive little tard.

Posted by: Blondeaussie at December 19, 2006 01:10 AM

Mike, sooooo if you happen to remember what was on the TV at that ghetto ass bar in Champaign, IL, on the book tour, you were kinda like the kid playing basketball that Tucker, you, and I were making fun of, but you were drunk, and being felt up by a chick instead of probably a coach...

Posted by: Eric at December 19, 2006 02:42 AM

I knowwhat I want to be when I grow up. Mike, you're an inspiration.

Posted by: Anonymous at December 19, 2006 03:19 AM

was that bananas?

Posted by: notorious at December 19, 2006 11:32 AM

Good work. I went as Superman in a wheel chair while wearing a neck brace. I was a hero that night to say the least. Sadly, it will most likely never get as good as that.

Your tard suit has great potential. If somehow you could merge the 80's rocker into having down syndrome for next year, whatever bar you were at would not be able to contain your level of awesomeness. Take Care.

Posted by: at December 19, 2006 03:08 PM

I run two group homes for retarded folks... and this IS FUNNY SHIT!!!! The fact is, retarded people are funny... sounds like you would have got better action at a "retarded dance" that local lions clubs or elks clubs put on... man... there is nothing like seeing a line of drooling, key ring clutching, spaghetti stained shirt wearing, retarded people trying to do the electric slide. When one falls down, the rest follow!!!! As is that is not funny enough, you have not lived till you watch a big fat downs guy wearing plaid pants stand in the middle of the dance floor rubbing his chest with his hands singing "Feel like I woman" by Shania Twain.

Posted by: Mitzi at December 20, 2006 05:37 AM

Yes, all of this went down at Banana's Bar and Grill.

Posted by: KungFu Mike at December 21, 2006 11:10 PM

hahaha the fact it was "bananas" makes it so inexplicably better..could there be a more trashy new hampshire nightclub? maybe in manchester?

Posted by: KateB at December 24, 2006 02:00 PM

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