Here’s a story, in the event Sexy BRP Rajah Humabon (PF-11) doesn’t do it for you.
Halloween fell on a weeknight my senior year of college, so when my roommate (typically lazy and fearful of embarrassment when it came to Halloween costumes) returned from his late-afternoon class to our apartment, in his typical mid-aughts-NYU-undergrad uniform of a scruffy dirty-blond beard and flannel shirt, he didn’t have a lot of time before we left for the parade (ie, I had already been listening to Dream Syndicate’s “Halloween” on loop, as per tradition, for like an hour by that point).
So, wandering around the apartment, having not previously given a moment’s thought to his Halloween costume, not even having time to shave before we went out, and being typically
lazy and/or too cool “minimalist” and/or “conceptual” about the whole holiday, he had an idea. He tucked in his red flannel shirt, and grabbed a roll of paper towels from the kitchen. Ta da: