haunted house

Our house is a hundred years old (and looks it). There’s nothing chic about 3′ holes in the floor and doors that don’t actually close. It’s about time that our parties took advantage of that fact instead of trying to blind people to its shabbiness with massive quantities of alcohol.

This Halloween (yes, I’m planning ahead again) we’ll be doing it up 1920’s style with flappery dresses, dapper vests, a whole lotta hair gel and prohibition punch. And you’re invited. Seeing as how flappers were known for “wearing excessive makeup, drinking, treating sex in a casual manner, smoking, driving automobiles, and otherwise flouting conventional social and sexual norms” I think we can create a fairly accurate historical representation at Casa Armstrong.

Recently we undertook a little bit of research in preparation. And, where else but the Clover Club?

Jackie (fresh from the bar exam), Julia and Joseph were all happy to oblige…

Matt hadn’t seen me in a while and puckered up for a kiss.

Tung tried really hard not to stare at the lovebirds (Justin and Kat) which wasn’t that hard when you consider the super yummy punch.

Lovebirds. Sickening, really.

See, that’s the thing about punch. It tastes so good you forget that it’s alcoholic. Which results in everyone cramming the enormous piece of ice in their mouth.

And sitting on abandoned street recliners.

All in all, a good bit of fun and some valuable research.