Two of my sisters live in L.A. One is about to be 40. The other is just about turning 30. Neither are married with kids and both are insisting on going out for Halloween. Guess who's going as the sexy kitten and who is going as the "night sky" (which I correctly predicted would involve a black Virgin Atlantic sleep suit with cotton balls attached)?
Oh, Halloween, that time of year when parties are packed with women in sexy nurse outfits offering to take your temperature and the men who ply them with drinks, hoping there's a chance in hell that this will actually happen.
I'm not sure when a holiday rooted in the tradition of summoning spirits turned into a reason to get your boobs out. (Perhaps we could thank that early '80s seductress Elvira for kicking off the trend.)
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