By the time you reach a non-trick-or-treating age (i.e., whenever the candy-giving adults start asking for your cell number) it's easy to get all jaded about Satan's birthday. And why not? As a grown-up, your Halloween future sucks. No more free candy, no more shitty-awesome psycho slasher costumes, and no more petty acts of delinquent mischief. Sometimes it even seems all us over-aged fright night revelers are doomed to a lifetime of spooky-slutty bummerfests, like this weekend's Tera-Ween, Vivid's Porn Star Ball, and Strip-O-Ween.
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