And What Are You Supposed To Be?

So Halloween’s been and gone, a night that was surprisingly sparse on the pub front, probably because it was a Monday night and everyone was at work. In fact, I actually saw better costumes at midday on the 29th. I suppose having a massive tent in the middle of Nottingham showcasing The Legend Of Zelda was enough to draw people to get their Midna costumes out though (which I’m mentioning in particular because it was easily the most impressive and intricate). What’s quite impressive to see however is the effort that goes in to making a costume from scratch out of old clothes and not resembling anything except maybe a scary skeletal biker.

And I’m not talking about ghost rider here, I’m talking about ripped sleeves on a denim jacket, beer belly and straw stuck in a metal skull mask kind of thing.

And if he was supposed to be ghost rider then I applaud him for his efforts, and the fact that his jacket had angel written on the back. Because although it did look awesome, it was quite difficult to pinpoint just what he was going for there.

Having not moved out into halls or anything this year I didn’t go to all of those fancy dress induction parties that they apparently do everywhere now, although I did go to one, and apparently one best dressed for my mad hatter costume although I never got that fake moustache as a reward.

I lost a couple of playing cards from my hat though, and yet somehow I managed to hold onto the small, plushie mouse I had stuck in my card-encrusted teacup for added effect.

The results of any experiment, it would seem, are inherently unpredictable without prior references or experience.

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