Halloween’s come and gone for another year, and before I dive head-first into Nanowrimo-land for yet another year, let’s close the book on the frightful holiday.  Jen, Tom, Allison and I decided to Resident Evil it up this year, and go hang out at Center Stage’s Halloween party.  Yes, believe it or not, I am a Resident Evil character; an obscure one, albeit, but Chris Redfield nonetheless – Safari Chris reference.  I guess I’d be more convincing if I were actually on steroids and not just doing extra arm workouts and drinking more protein shakes for two weeks.

But anyway, the party itself was kind of blah, the venue wasn’t as well executed as it was last year, but from what I hear it’s irrelevant since there won’t be a Halloween party there next year.  Naturally, that’s hardly the important part, because it was still an enjoyable evening with good company.  Not to mention I got my first exposure to hunch-punch, and more or less got obliterated on top of a myriad of beer, thinking the red concoction wasn’t alcoholic.  But from what I remember, it was still a night of inebriated belligerence, and I have one fond drunken memory of pulling out the race card on a black girl at Waffle House for making assumptions about my ethnicity, and then shooting down her weak rebuttal that her boyfriend was Asian, that such notion does not make her the authority on Asian people double standard oh shit I’m going to go sit down no wait I have to go take a piss

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