How to Stay a Spooky Hoe this Halloween

Hello Everyone,

As you may have noticed, we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another frigid ass, Syracuse October. Yes, the leaves are changing, and every basic bitch with $4.45 is losing her mind over some pumpkin spice (myself included). But here in Orange Nation, we must also face The Cold.

We’ve all experienced that one weird wind tunnel that makes you regret every time you complained about the summer heat. We have all stared in both awe and utter confusion at That One Bro in Shorts. (Listen Tyler, nobody is going to give you shit for covering your knees. You know what’s not cool? Hypothermia.) There is still one event that unites us above all others, that combines our everlasting love of blacking out and costumes… Halloween.

I fucking love Halloween. It is the only time of year when it's acceptable to leave the house in a pair of black nipple tassels, some cat ears and call it an outfit. This year, Halloween has fallen on a Wednesday which means (I’m going to blackout seven times in two weeks… and) you must make wise decisions about the marathon you’re about to sprint.

So that’s where I come in — these are my (spooky) tips on how to live through the most wonderful time of the year.

1. Hydrate so you don’t diedrate.

This is self-explanatory. Drink water, hoe. Remember, you aren’t a camel even if you’re dressed as one.

2. Hoes DO get cold.

A very wise woman once said, “a hoe never gets cold”. This is, in fact, a lie, hoes do get cold. Either invest in a fracket now or invest in your hospital bills from pneumonia later.

3. It’s a marathon not a sprint.

The Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday shuffle is not a laughing matter. If you live through this weekend, you are an athlete. Keep in mind though, that you kind of have to live through this weekend, because you know, school. So remember (as you throw up on Marshall street in fairy wings at 2AM) that you are running a marathon not a sprint, pace yourself. (That being said, if you can sprint the marathon, go for it bro. I believe in you.)

4. Don’t let your party tit escape.

Listen ladies, whatever version of fancy hoe you’re going to be this Halloweekend make sure your titties are secured. Just because Janet Jackson had a nip slip on national television does not mean that you can in the DJ booth at Sammy.

5. Take care of your fellow spooky hoes.

You might have read this, but your homegirl might have not and now she’s blacking-out in acropolis crying about mozzarella sticks. Give her water, take her home, take care of your spooky hoe. When she wakes up tomorrow hungover as fuck, she’ll thank you.

6. Beware of The Mask.

Watch out for that bro in the grim reaper mask. He’s wearing it for a reason.

7. If you’re going to wear heels. You better wear those goddamn heels.

I am going to advise you not to wear them. Don’t fucking wear heels, you will break your ankle or your face or your ass and die. But if you do choose to wear heels, I do not want to hear you complain. You brought this upon yourself. You better keep those fuckers on the whole night because the only thing worse than listening to you complain, is listening to you complain drunk AND barefoot outside of PitaPit while you develop a fungal infection from stepping in vomit on Marshall.

8. No spooky hoe left behind.

Imagine, your drunk ass stumbles out of the spooky stank of DJ’s into The Cold, but suddenly you can’t find the chill to your Netflix. To make sure this doesn't happen I suggest tying a chicken finger (or your spooky hoes drunk food of choice) to a string and carrying it behind you all night, like a child leash, but delicious.

*Disclaimer: This tactic may attract unwanted, additional spooky hoes.

9. Make sure your face that looks like a different face stays on your face.

Sure, you might have entered the bar looking like a sexy skeleton, but right now you look like the villain in a Tim Burton film. The Beetle Juice look is not in this season, when you beat that face, make sure you set it too.

10. Don’t disappoint your mom.

Please, for the love of God don’t accidentally post a picture of your right ass cheek on your Facebook story. Just think of the look on her face when a video of you projectile vomiting in an Uber in a bunny costume ends up on barstool. Keep your shit together. Do it for your mom.

May your costumes stay on and your liquor stay down this Halloween. And remember, it’s not alcoholism 'till you graduate.