This Halloween, I'm Dressing Up As...

Cousin Eddie

Call me strange (you wouldn’t be the first), but every Halloween, the SJG looks forward to scaring the sewage out of little children. One look at my freaky punim and the kiddies wonder if that bite-size Snickers is really worth the fright. Every year I try to top myself. On October 31st, neighbors expect to find me with gobs of blood dripping down my cheeks, courtesy of the knife embedded in my face. Sure, some years I mix it up. I might have a fork jutting out of my forehead. Or a chainsaw through my gut.

“Does that hurt?” a little princess will ask, afraid to look directly at whatever gory protrusion I’ve selected for the occasion. “Very much,” I’ll deadpan. “Know any good doctors?” “No,” she’ll whisper, grabbing a Mr. Goodbar as she makes a run for it.

I’ve seen tiny Ninjas shiver at the sight of my Frankenstein neck bolts. I’ve seen witches and goblins, Jasmines and Cinderellas fall apart when confronted with my formidable spookiness. The crying. The yelping. The screaming for their mommies. It gets old after a while. This year, I’m going in a new direction. This year, I want to scare myself for a change. Every time I open the door, I want an adrenaline rush all my own. But to get that fix, I must plunge myself into the goriest scenario I can imagine, and see if I survive the night. That’s right. You called it. I’m dressing up as a celebrity.

The problem is how do I pick just one? They’re all pretty scary these days, aren’t they? And they just keep getting creepier. How can I possibly narrow it down? The choices are terrifying: A D.U.I., a couple of rehabs stays, an ankle bracelet, and I’m Lindsay Lohan. A pair of dark glasses, a scruffy beard, extra poundage and I'm Joaquin Phoenix. Thick mascara, a dazed look, a long black wig, a British accent, and I'm Amy Winehouse, an eff'd up Jewish gal.  I could so do that!

Spooky!

But it’s not enough to be severely misguided, drug-addicted or poorly-parented. I need something extra. A level of celebrity freak no one else can top. I want to impersonate a celebrity who chills me to the bone. This Halloween, I’m going as actor Randy Quaid.  He scares the sh*t out of me.  What the hell happened there? On Friday, Quaid told Canada's immigration board that he and his wife Evi want asylum from "the murderers of Hollywood" and will therefore apply for refugee status in Canada, after they were arrested on U.S. warrants related to felony vandalism charges.  Don't these two know that sometimes, it's just easier to pay the bill?

Let's face it.  The Quaids have gone off the deep end.  Been there!  I don't even need a mask for this look.  Randy and Evi think their friends, including David Carradine and Heath Ledger, have been "murdered" under mysterious circumstances.  Evi thinks her hubby could be next!  "Our lives are in danger.  Randy has known eight close friends murdered in odd, strange manners ... We feel that we're next."  All I can say to that is:  Run!  If the Quaids want asylum from "Hollywood star whackers," I say give it to them for Halloween. They want to live in Canada?  Let them.  "It's been a very welcoming nation to me," Randy says. "I would not do anything to besmirch my reputation." Too late. 

Yes, this Halloween, I'll be Cousin Eddie from the National Lampoon "Vacation" movies.  But I'll really be Randy Quaid.  Paranoia?  I can do that!