The Bunny Mafia Presents

Am I the only one who dreads costume parties?

Halloween and New Year's aside, I rarely get that chance to rummage through the costumier's chest but every once in a while, someone decides to hold a party. Just the sheer tension of choosing one particular costume out of the hundreds available gives me the hives! For that one special night, you could be literally anyone - and it's so hard to decide whether to come out as a Mother Superior of the Ecclesiastical Order of Endless Copulation or perhaps a vengeful, cynical Count of Monty Python. Hell, even a Jedi knight!

Or how about the bloodthirsty Scorpion Samurai, scourge of medieval Japan?

With the Bunny Mafia hosts threatening to forcibly dress miscreants ( God knows what they can only dream of ) who refuse to comply with the costume rules, I knew I had to come up with something. Me, I decided to take the safe, boring route and drag out my dusty old scrubs scrounged from way back during an elective abroad. Easy enough to come as Dr McCheesy after all.

Copped a cheap, easy way out.


Getting ready for the party...
Though I had my eye on a particular priest's uniform during the trip to the costumier. After all, I have a nice, shiny crucifix and bible to match. Well there's always a next time. Far more inventive souls dug through their cupboards to come up with Roman footsoldiers and supernatural manga detectives which explains the likes of Phallus Maximus and Kira / L of Death Note fame.

Even a swashbuckling female pirate called Captain Punani.

The things you learn at a costume party.

1) Invariably there are identical doubles.
Two doctors, two romans, two cowboys, two chefs, two construction workers. And a couple of military / police officials. Of course with gay men around, you also have the entire crew of YMCA ( short of the Indian chief! ) out to help. Gotta admit the Indonesian construction worker had great biceps to match the tight white tee though.

2) Inevitably doing drag lands you in the john.
And there they tend to worship the porcelain goddess. Can't be sure why... but I believe the combination of extreme high altitudes ( due to the supernaturally skycraping stilettos ) and free flow alcohol leads to certain inebriation. Then again I could blame the tight corsets.

3) Inescapable fact that someone has to get naked.
Or almost. In this instance, more than one manly chest got bared - and more than one nipple got pinched. Possibly forewarned, Genial Graham a.k.a. Nipples came forearmed and overdressed in lab coat - but the twin toga boys were already half naked anyway ( despite protests that Speedos underneath are adequate for T&A coverage ). Not to mention more skirts were lifted last night than in a raunchy Moulin Rouge matinee.

Black underwear seemed to be the order of the day - though a cute ( Irish? ) Artful Dodger seemed to have cute printed blue boxers on.

4) Impossibly doctors can still get tipsy.
A definite truism. Surprisingly I still managed to see double last night after downing one vodka too many. An achievement of sorts. Good to know since I thought my wild salad days of being thoroughly soused were over.

And as usual some guys are so much more fun after a drink or two :) Our buttoned-up Lanky Lex for instance. Bottoms up!