I shouldn’t be allowed to celebrate Halloween anymore. One year, I insisted on fighting with the host of the party because she refused to give me a jello shot and my friends pulled me away from the fight after hearing me scream, “rude, rude, rude, don’t be a bitch!” The next year, I proceeded to offer to finish everyone’s drink at the bar at closing time, went with a few friends to someone’s apartment to have some soup, and ended up doing the worm into his bicycle and twerking on his wall. I didn’t take my boots off apparently, so I left some pretty bad scuff marks with my horrible attempt at dancing. Oh, and once time I nearly broke my ankle running after a food truck. Was on crutches for a month after that.