Partly out of laziness and lack of creativity, and partly out of a desire not to let go so easily of the claws I spent many hours constructing three years ago, I’ve decided to recycle my Wolverine costume for Halloween this year. Pretty though they are, the claw assemblies are just thin pieces of pine cut, carved, and glued together, and they surely won’t survive a move to DC or wherever once if I graduate, and what with the lackluster third installment of X-Men coming out on DVD last week, why the hell not?

The problem with this costume is that it takes a long time to prepare, and the preparation involves a good month of looking like a scruffy asshat. I’ve gone a few days without shaving plenty of times, but now I have officially reached the truly irritating level of hairiness. My pathetic armpit-y excuse for a “beard” has reached a length that renders it detectable by my own peripheral vision, so I constantly feel like I have crap on my face. And I do, I have crap on my face. Itchy, scratchy, irritating crap. Not to mention I really, really need a haircut, but I’ve got to go through two more weeks of “what the hell is that guy’s deal” if I’m to have enough mane to swoop up with six ounces of epoxy-like hair product.

Stupid Halloween.
Scruffy



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