But Halloween’s not all candy and luminescent trousers. You’ve got to be careful that you know how to get rid of full-face makeup before you make a move on that chubby but hilarious cutie in the SuperJew costume. You’ve also got to remember to watch the volume after taking him home. And try to manage your expectations about the encounter—this isn’t a movie, after all.

It’s also important to make sure you don’t accidentally raise the dead. Of course, if you do have any encounters with a zombie, it’ll be easy enough to find another final resting place for him—just stop into your local Walmart .

Either way, you’ll definitely have a ton of sweet pictures to add to your Facebook on November 1. And if your overindulgence on Saturday gives you a little bit of extra cushion for the pushin’, you can always call your friendly neighborhood plastic surgeon and get that flab turned into something fabulous.

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When it comes to fashion, Americans seem to be a little late on the uptake. More often then not, fashion trends start elsewhere before they creep their way over to NYC, L.A., and the rest of this fine place we call home. While this often leaves us waiting in anticipation for the latest craze in handbags or jeans to make their way into our closets, we aren’t always leaping to be the next nation to pick up a trend.

And right now that trend that we’re praying will pass us by is Meggings.

Yes, meggings. Leggings for men. Grown men. They have blown up in Tokyo (and have been spotted in Paris, London, and, gasp, New York), with men sporting them under shorts and with boots. And not just to keep warm during a morning run on a cold winter day.

This is a full-blown fashion statement just screaming “Look At My Junk!”

Being that I live in NYC, the first stop for new trends, I’ve recently had the honor of a run-in with a pair of meggings. And it was brutal. Seriously, I don’t like watching girls walk around flaunting their camel-toes in these things and now I’m forced to deal with full-frontal on a dude?

I have no idea what these guys are thinking, but I sure as hell know what I was thinking when I came face to outline-of-a-nutsack with a man sporting meggings. It went a little like this:

God I’m tired. I can’t wait to get that Americano into my belly. Ugh, why is this bitch in front of me taking so long to order? And why is her voice so deep? Wait. Is that a beard? Is that a dude? In leggings? OMG, that is a dude in leggings. Is it Halloween yet? Is that a Peter Pan costume? <Check calendar.> No, it’s not Halloween. And it’s a Monday afternoon. WTF? Why are his thighs smaller than mine? And where is his cellulite? Where does he keep his wallet? Oh wait – there it…oh. No. That’s his junk. Nice balls, dude. Just what I wanted to see while I waited in line for my ‘Bux this morning. What’s next? Meels? Mras? Mresses?! Oh god. I feel fat. And queasy. Take those off, dude. Take them off!

And then I gathered my things, ran out…and into a different Starbucks 2 blocks away.

Seriously, spandex is only OK on two men: Lance Armstrong (while he’s biking ONLY) and Superman. Let’s all say a silent prayer tonight that we don’t be seeing these on our campuses any time soon. Especially paired with a pair of Muggs.

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