The hallucinogenic qualities of boredom....
12 years ago I shared a house with two old school friends. As I have described elsewhere in various QOTWs, we were slobs who spent any spare time or money in the pub.

One Saturday two of us were sitting at home bored. We had no money or beer and neither would be arriving any time soon. We were so bored in fact that a scouting mission to the corner shop to see what our aggregate worth of £1.62 could get us was suggested. It got us a small pack of face paints and 12 pence. I'm still not sure why we bought them, If I'm being perfectly honest.

We lasted a couple of hours before we cracked them open, and within 10 minutes I was 'Saklar the Firegod'- my face ornately covered in red and yellow zigzags, and my house mate was 'Gooja, spirit of the forest', himself covered in green and black swirls.

We must of spent a couple of hours running around the house, commando rolling where possible or sliding down the stairs, all the while using our 'powers'. We even had the following conversation, which I shall take with me to my grave-

'How come you get to be a god, and I am just a spirit?'
'Because I wield the gauntlet of flame!!'
'Fair enough.'
(The gauntlet of flame was a tatty yellow duster I had tied around my wrist which apparently gave me unlimited fire-type powers. He only had a green and white checked tea towel as some kind of archaic cravat. I didn't do too much, but it did allow him to conjour 'a cooling moss' If my fire powers got out of hand.)

I must remind you that we were still completely sober at this point.

A few hours into our adventure, we started to flag and there came a point where we considered washing it off before our other housemate came home and never speaking of it again. We kept it on. We heard the key in the door and jumped him. He stood there looking at his two friends covered in facepaint, in a house that had clearly staged some kind of battle that, if not exactly between two warring deities, had still managed to knock some furniture over and break a lampshade. It didn't look good, he had that 'WTF?' look that meant our fun was over.

So imagine my surprise when mere minutes later, he was covered in brown and black scales and had transformed into 'Arbokai, lord of beasts'. He was still wearing his suit, and his tie gave him dominion over the beasts of land and air. Arbokai joined us in our titanic struggle that had now spilled over into the park outside. It was still daylight and we didn't care.

COMPLETELY. BLOODY. SOBER.

*Edit- in case this battle between imaginary beings seems somewhat one-sided, I feel I must point out that we agreed that due to the medium of photosynthesis, the more I used my Sun-godly powers, the stronger the Forest spirit became. To make it fair, like.

Also Looking back at it, I think that we had subconsciously hoped that someone else would turn up as we had a load of blue left over and maybe needed a water demon or something. I think that's why Arbokai couldn't control fish.
Edit over*
(FartThroughAWalkieTalkie wished you were dead in ditch on, Fri 26 Oct 2012, 8:28, 7 replies)

As well as making sweary fireworks, I love fancy dress. Fancy dress is THE best way to go out drinking. I love it. Hence the few too many photos I'm going to share... (Sorry)

I won the title "King Zombie" in 2010 for this OAP zombie.



In 2009 I won "Most Original Zombie" for this:



I made a bunch of these in 2009 and have had fun in several places with them:



We made the hats, belts, trousers and bags for these and they were a lot of fun this year.



Here are some Roman costumes we made a few years ago:


Here's me in a number of my costumes I've made, adapted or bought etc:



A better selection of more or less the same thing here:

flic.kr/s/aHsjAPuqto

The current project (although on hold) is a contemporary space suit. Unfortunately I don't find it easy at all and I have no idea of and when I'll ever finish that(!)
(Mekon74, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 20:17, 6 replies)

We were at work one day
...in a telesales office of a Friday afternoon, around 3 of the clock, quaffing warm tea and chatting nonchalantly.
As a little diversion from the phones and spreadsheets, I chose to offer a challenge to my colleagues: I was going to a Halloween party that night, and I wanted a really good, really scary costume idea.
Jill from accounts suggested I dress as a frightening clown, maybe with specks of blood on my face. Oooh, scary, said Diane in sales, I hate clowns.
Pete from marketing suggested I dress entirely in black and attach flat panel speakers to my front and attach a head-worn microphone, meaning my every word would be disconcertingly amplified. Interesting, freaky, everyone liked the idea.
Then Chris from purchasing, a quiet lad, loudly made a suggestion from the other side of the office (an office full of middle aged women, quiet accountants, unassuming receptionists):

"A baby. A baby covered in spunk."

The room went quiet. Everyone pretended to be busy. A sob escaped from Janine in HR.
So that was my costume.
(InflammableHound may be recorded for training porpoises, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 21:20, Reply)

End of the World themed hogmanay party
Me dressed as a monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey


(sarahahaha, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 17:38, 8 replies)

More nuts than a King Size Marathon.
A pea-roast for you:

Back in The Day, when I was a long-haired Heavy Metal Guitar Hero (as opposed to the fat slaphead I am now), and my life revolved around alcohol, I naturally used to hang around with a gang of likeminded wreck-heads.

So, one of these idiots, sorry, my friends, was seeing a model. A gen-u-ine model, a regular in The Sunday Sport (back in the days before it became a Daily) illustrating some story she just made up, and, well, not exactly a rocket scientist. A lovely gal though, very docile.

Now, on the night in question, 6 of us ended up after the pub had shut round at her flat. Having woken the entire building by rampaging round doing Celtic Frost death-grunts, she was desperate to quieten us down.
"Look boys, look at all my sexy clothes" she declared, throwing open the door to the biggest wardrobe I have ever seen. It may well have simply been one room, it was immense, and we all hushed, as one imagining her in some of the frilly and lacy delights that greeted us.

There was all manner of wierd and wonderful things in there, it was like Mr Benn's secret dream. Dresses, nighties, uniforms, wigs, thigh-high PVC boots, more shoes than Imelda Marcos (mostly ridiculously high and made of clear perspex), underwear a-go-go, you name it, it was in there.
Suddenly the spell was broken:
"Fookin ell, let's dress up!!" from one of my comrades as he dived in, followed by the rest.
And me, I'm ashamed to say.
We were like kiddies, but at least we weren't playing human pinball listening to Slayer in her living room, so she was happy.

Some time later we emerged, dressed like Danny La Rue's sickest fantasy. Even today, my brain keeps most of the details suppressed, but I can recall I had a baby-doll on, and a Madonna-style metal bra over the top. I was dressed conservatively compared to the others. There was nurse, a dominatrix, plus assorted cavemen in dresses.

Suddenly, some bright spark decided it would be a hoot if we traipsed up to the 24-hour garage "to scare the poofs" who apparently worked there, so off we set, teetering on badly fitting over-high heels.

Who knows if we actually got to the garage, but I do know that at some point a car pulled up alongside and 2 girls leapt out and took photos, and I distinctly remember they knew our names. I have no clue who they were, and no-one has ever owned up. I just know that one day, when the keys to No 10 Downing St are within my grasp, they will re-surface, pics in hand.

The worst thing, the thing that is seared into my memory, is Tommy, wearing a WPC tunic, hat, and erm, lingerie:
"Hey, hey, look at this.........Evening all!!"...... bending his knees in the time-honoured Rozzer fashion. It was the sight of his nuts hanging out of his split-crotch panties as he did it that haunts me.........
(Rsoles, Tue 30 Oct 2012, 14:54, 2 replies)

I do like a good halloween dress up
Here are a selection on some of my home made costumes from the past few years..


Firstly, here's Ash - complete with boomstick:


Only took me an evening or 2, so pretty quick for me.


Next, let's go a bit darker with Pyramid head from Silent Hill:


This took me a couple of months, mostly making the head out of an old bike helmet, lots of cardboard and paint. The knife is cardboard round an old pool queue.

Finally, my magnum opus... My space marine:


This took me about 100 hours over the course of 11 months. Papier mache over bike helmets, glueing and scultping polystyrene foam sheets by hand, attacking foam insulation with scissors sourcing non reactive varnish from the US and mixing copious amounts of wallpaper paste and poster paints.
Won a few competitions though!


Best part of all my dressing up was when I was supping a few bevvies outside a pub while dressed as pyramid head and some guy came up to me and said "Woah! Great costume dude! That's the best costume I've seen since that guy dressed up as a space marine a couple of years ago!". That'll be me then..
( Weetobix, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 16:33, 7 replies)

It took
Two weeks, two real pig heads, a load of plaster, liberal slatherings of vaseline, some latex and a little paint but I finally got the face I deserve.


(lumpytuna, Fri 26 Oct 2012, 9:21, 4 replies)

Turned up at a party with a crate of beer to be told that it was animal themed fancy dress.

Fucking furries
( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 22:19, 3 replies)

this got me a half day off work
( mictoboy shitting in your cunt since, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 14:28, 9 replies)

Oh, just one more.
One lazy Halloween...

( Extinct Jesus Dossier "...I think it counteracts Hitler's magic...", Thu 25 Oct 2012, 19:09, Reply)

Bad Taste
A few years ago a friend was having a fancy dress party with the theme "Bad Taste". Apparently there were to be no boundaries in regards to the level of sickness the costumes could reach so I opted for a Giant Zombie Maddie McCann. For some unfathomable reason I went home alone that night.



(Narcotic Monkey Neither a narcotic nor a monkey., Thu 25 Oct 2012, 15:44, 5 replies)

unexpected horse
yes, it's a pea, but it's all i've got for now.

after a christmas party one year, my parents went upstairs to, presumably, go to bed.
ten minutes later, i could hear thumps and muffled giggling coming from the upstairs landing. unsure what i was about to see, i went upstairs to investigate. there, on the landing, were my parents, draped in a bedsheet and bumping into walls.
"what the fuck are you two doing?" i asked. after a bit more giggling, mum's voice floated out from under the sheet. "we're being a horse!" she said.
i left them to it and went back downstairs.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 13:16, 4 replies)

A couple of years back our and Air Traffic's bar, Castaways had a "School Disco" night.
Cue lots of burly RAF types, and one or two actual females squeezed into schoolgirl uniforms.
I went over straight after my dayshift so I was wearing normal clothes.
With a brown dirty mac type storesman coat that I took from our tech workshop and a bag of Werther's that I got our admin bloke to go across to the NAAFI to fetch me. I then got my beer and stood outside the doorway.
Yup, I went to the school disco as a nonce.
:D
( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Thu 1 Nov 2012, 11:42, 6 replies)

My Hallowe'en costume:


Black robe, black veil, red LEDs and my home-made stilts.

I made a kid piss himself about five years ago with this costume.

I should be far less proud of that.
( MatJ LOOK, Tue 30 Oct 2012, 23:50, 1 reply)

Romans Vs Jesii n Lazers
The best dressing up story I've got was when we booked the local lazerquest arena and went as Jesuses vs Romans. The pinnacle of the experience was when my friend Mark was cornered and he accidently leaned back onto the bar of the double doors of the fire escape. Mark then fell backwards through the doors which opened into the nextdoor pub's beer garden. Imagine the faces of the friday night beer swilling punters, as a Roman centurion bursts into their garden, lands on his back and is followed out by 3 Jesii who start emptying lazer rounds into his chest. One of my life's best moments.
(johnnysmokes, Tue 30 Oct 2012, 19:28, 9 replies)

Three years ago ...

Looked better when I was standing but for some reason all the photos show me sitting
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Sun 28 Oct 2012, 23:03, Reply)

For a masked ball at my old goth club, I wore my own face.


Well, I took a snap and printed it out on cardboard. People were slightly confused by this, thinking I might be someone else in disguise or, since it was dark, wondering why I looked so strange until they got close enough.

I don't think I've really bettered this idea, conceptually.
(Ladyfingers is in your wardrobe,, Fri 26 Oct 2012, 6:12, 6 replies)

Copydex, breadcrumbs, face paint, red food dye and booze!
I went out for a night on the lash dressed like this and caused a bunch of people to cack themselves - The most notable incident was a gentleman standing next to me at the urinal who didn't notice until he was half way through. He shouted "Waaaaah!" as he hurled himself backwards, slipped over and did a bit of wee on himself! It was a fucking brilliant night.



Next day I couldn't get all of the black from my eyes and it looked like I was wearing guyliner, the upside to this was the missus woudln't leave me alone! :-)
( JamHamster My eyes, my beautiful eyes!, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 16:44, 8 replies)

I once got asked to wear black trousers at a christening...
Because I'm such an autistic I couldn't possibly do so, and now my family hate me.

WHAT'S THEIR FUCKING PROBLEM, CUNTS
( CaptainCrackerjack live trout, slow motion, Thu 1 Nov 2012, 15:50, 6 replies)

BikerScout
Back in 2009 I had planned to go up into town with some mates in costume for halloween. It had been planned well in advance, so I was able to spend some time and money earlier in the year on assembling an accurate scouttrooper costume from Return of the Jedi.

It took some months, although I did only a little of the hard work - I had to order the basic armour and helmet form a prop maker in the US, gloves and assorted bits form some one else over the pond (then I had to assemble it all), the flack-shirt from someone in germany, the boots and soft parts from a guy here in the UK, and I had to customise a flight suit myself (removing all pockets, altering the collar, and sewing in a saddle patch as well as a mudflap over the backside)

So, I was wearing a flightsuit with feux-suede saddlepatch and mud-flap, a flack-jacket (a half-t'shirt thing), gloves, boots, thick padded cummerbund (and crotch piece), PVC knee-pads, forearm pads, elbow pads, shoulder bells, chest and back "armour", helmet, belt and boxes, and fabric packs.

In hot pubs and bars, (in my regular bar I recieved a standing ovation) I lasted until about 11pm where I nearly passed out from heat exhaustion. That was not so funny.

I've not worn the costume since, and now sits in a box packed away.

One day I may buy a mannequin so it can stand in a corner somewhere.


( theoriginalsteve <this space intentionally left blank>, Fri 26 Oct 2012, 18:28, 4 replies)

Last Saturday I went to a fancy dress party as a devil


Papier mache horns attached to my head with pva and wire, scary contacts, a ton of red facepaint and some rather lucky finds in charity shops.

I'm normally a very friendly jovial chap so it was quite a transformation for me. Quite a few of my friends actually couldn't look at me, which I obviously played on as much as possible. At one point a friend was doing the drunk 'oh you're an amazing bloke I love you so much' thing when she caught sight of my face, at which point without pausing for breath she called me every name under the sun.

At the end of the night a bloke asked if he could dance with the devil just once!

I was also rather pleased to see the birthday boy was wearing bad 70s clothing with a "jim fixed it for me" badge.
(teasus likes tea, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 20:38, 9 replies)

This story takes place a few years ago, in Portugal for a friends stag do.

It was the second day of the weekend, and having started the occasion with the standard proceedure of making the first night the worst, we were all pretty fragile. I was by far however, the worst. The chicken kebab i'd consumed at the end of the night rendered me useless for the whole day, with the consequences of too much alcohol, and half cooked chicken being in full effect.

By order of the best man, I dragged myself out of bed for the start of the second evening. A hearty bbq over a few beers actually made me feel slightly better, and the confidence id lost in being able to retain my stomach contents from both ends had returned!

The theme for that night, was the not so original stag do idea of...a group of lads, dressed as women. I left that night, dressed as a hula girl, consisting of a horrible cheap wig, a plastic coconut bikini top, a grass skirt, the smallest pair of boxers I could find to try and keep a bit of dignity, and some flip-flops.

The pub golf was in full swing, and copious amounts of shots were going down. Moving from bar to bar was going well, and we had even started to gather a small group of girls who were keen to join the banter.

It was upon leaving the fourth bar that I felt the gurgle in my stomach, and the fear set in. What was in my stomach, was going to come out whether I liked it or not, and it was coming right then and there.

I ran across the road and ducked behind a car, dropped my boxers and my arse exploded. Of course on seeing me sprint behind the car, the rest of the lads (and the random girls who were there too) came over to see what was wrong. The only thing I remember at the exact moment, were girls running in all directions screaming, and a group of lads trying to catch their breath as they were laughing so hard.

I'd managed to produce some serious bum gravy all over the grass skirt i had on, and only had my boxers to clean myself up with. They both had to go immediately. The only thing I had left was the coconut bikini top.

So if you were in Portugal a few years ago, and saw a sorry looking drunk man walking home wearing only a wig and a coconut bikini to cup his meat and veg, that was me.

Oh the shame...
(Padsy, Tue 30 Oct 2012, 12:59, 1 reply)

the drinking hat
in my early twenties, i shared a flat with a friend of mine, who had recently had a baby. as we couldn't go out drinking, we took every opportunity we could* to get pissed. one such night, we'd had a spot of luck on bingo and treated ourselves to a bottle of vodka to celebrate an evening without the restrictions of childcare.
at some point in the evening, i decided that i needed a wee. going up to the bathroom, i discovered what looked like a waterproof cloth doughnut. of course, i put it on my head.
back in the living room, my friend explained that it was a thing to stop water getting into the baby's eyes when she washed his hair. i decided that this should no longer be the case and declared it to be my drinking hat. every time we've had a drink since then, i've worn my drinking hat after i've had a few.
until 2 years ago. that was when the drinking hat had to be thrown away. our nights on the piss just haven't seemed the same since, not even when i tried to row a baby bath across her kitchen floor with a mop. i needed my drinking hat.
2 days ago, whilst walking down the road in high wind, i noticed something blowing up the road towards me. something sequinned. something red.
it was a fedora. a beautiful, red, sparkly fedora, no owner in sight.
it now lives in my bedroom.
i have my new drinking hat!


*we always made sure the baby had a sitter and didn't get drunk when he was in the house with us. we weren't completely irresponsible!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Mon 29 Oct 2012, 16:12, 2 replies)

I went to the Renaissance Faire a couple of years ago
wearing my usual outfit for such things, dark brown canvas cargo pants with a white lace-up shirt and a green cape. I usually carry along a staff of some sort and a drinking horn. This time I carried a goofy staff with a pair of antlers on the top that I had found in a junk store to which I had glued some novelty ping pong balls made to look like eyeballs. But the piece de resistance was a blank white mask.

As I walked through the crowds I noticed people looking askance at me, wary expressions as they dodged out of my way. I decided to play it up a bit and took to stalking along, turning my head suddenly to look at people and make them jump.

I had underestimated the impact I was having, it seems. I went to the beer tent and waited in line, and the woman at the counter requested that I lift the mask to verify my age. I had honestly forgotten about that aspect and cheerfully slid it up, and heard a drunken cheer of "Beer Man! Beer Man has a face!" I grinned at the group of guys and hoisted my cup before replacing the mask and stalking off again, a straw in my drinking horn so I could drink through it.

Of course I eventually came close to a small child whose eyes grew enormous as she clutched at her mother. I responded by pulling the mask up and making goofy faces at her until she laughed, then pretended that the staff was looking around before peering at her. The mother laughed with the kid and thanked me before I left.

After a few more beers it got to be even funnier to me, and I would sometimes utter a deep "mwaahaahaahaahaa", drawing the occasional small scream followed by a nervous giggle from a cute girl. I spent the day watching shows, drinking beer and clowning around, safe behind the mask.

At the end of the day as people filed out I hung back, as I had no desire to spend the better part of an hour sitting in my car while the traffic got sorted. I stood near the exit watching the people go by, and even had a few people ask me for pictures. I agreed, of course, and finally had someone snap one with my own camera besides.


Once I left I stalked out to my car, and on the way passed by a young couple sitting back and watching the traffic. They recognized me and cheered, so I sat down with them. The girl sighed. "Man, I'd give twenty bucks right now for a beer."

I stood. "Right back..."

I returned with three beers that I had packed in case I wanted to go out to the car and eat during the day (I had eaten the food but left the beer) and handed them two. They gaped, then burst out laughing. I tried to wave away the twenty, but they insisted. We drank our beers as we watched the tail lights thin, then said goodnight and went to our own cars.

Amazing what a difference a three dollar mask can make...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Mon 29 Oct 2012, 15:59, Reply)

pearoast
Sometime in the mid 90's a friend of mine had a fancy dress party at his house on new years eve.
Someone came dressed as Superman.....




....in a wheelchair.
( social hand grenade I was a lurker before you were a lurker, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 20:50, Reply)

I'm another costume whore
I love a bit of costume making



All made of cardboard, apart from the ventilation duct arms. The body eventually disintegrated with over-use, but I've still got the head so I can re-create it one day.



Mr Spacehopper at Glastonbury. Well, if you've got a spherical gut, you might as well make it work for you.

The horns were cast in silicone, from moulds taken from a genuine original 1970s spacehopper. Annoyingly, the only people to jump on me and ask for a bounce were men...
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 31 Oct 2012, 11:37, 3 replies)

Does posing for a Cthulu Porn publication count?

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Mon 29 Oct 2012, 17:46, 24 replies)

I do love fancy dress...
Bertie Bassett is one of my favourite costumes. It cost less than £10 to make - I had to buy a pair of yellow shorts, a blue foam yoga mat and a roll of black gaffer tape but everything else I had already.



I went round Beatherder Festival with a box of Liquorice Allsorts handing them out to anyone who showed an interest. I even offered one to Mr Motivator when I went on stage to dance with him. He declined - that lycra isn't very forgiving.



I also appear as Bertie in Biscuithead and the Biscuit Badgers music video for "Seaweed under the Sofa" which is fab and well worth a watch/listen. www.youtube.com/watch?v=zC4PFpSDG7g
( e.m.m.y. foxtrot uniform charlie kilo india tango, Mon 29 Oct 2012, 10:11, 3 replies)

gorilla -> mankini -> banana -> daleks

( pregnantfridge, Fri 26 Oct 2012, 8:18, 1 reply)

If in doubt.
Black up.
(Elephant Balderdash attempting to bottle the absurd, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 21:45, Reply)