Accessory ideas for your Hugh Hefner Paranormal Halloween Costume

Hugh Hefner died yesterday, somehow having pushed the envelope of sexual misrepresentation and misogyny out to 91 years.  Moment of silence?  It's hard to know how to feel about this.

Since it's just yesterday that he passed away, I'd usually put my foot down here and say emphatically that it's "TOO EARLY" for a Hugh Hefner costume at The Paranormal.  But, in truth, the Paranormal has a long, long history with offensive costumes, and Hef has been dead on the inside for a long time anyway.  Indeed, this one we probably can't hold back, even if we tried.  So I'll just accept the modern world for how it is (emotionally and morally absent), embrace it, and offer up here some accessory ideas for your Hugh Hefner costume, were you to wear it to the Paranormal.


1)  Silk Robe.  Obviously this is the place to start. However, having worn a robe for a paranormal lap myself once upon a time, I can assure you that it's a huge pain in the ass to keep it out of your rear wheel for 8 miles of single.  That said, if you can somehow find a silk robe with a tear-away bottom, you'll have a much easier time keeping it out of your cassette, and Hefner would have LOVED a tear-away-bottom robe anyway. Check and check.

2)  Big box of Viagra.  Huge.  You're pushing 90 for chrisakes, and you've got a lot of work in front of you.  Maybe even have the box of Viagra actually be your duo teammate's costume.  Nothing says, "we're riding this shit all night" quite like Hef and his big box of pills.

3) Smoking jacket and a snifter of brandy.  Don't be afraid to get after that brandy a little bit too.  A little drunk and surly is accurate, and accuracy is everything with the judges these days.  Not lecherous though, not creepy or anything - in fact, the look is very friendly.  Think Arnie Palmer, but with a huge, omnipresent, semi-threatening erection that has always prevented you from playing sports.  More about that erection in a minute.

4)  Limo.  Not a bad idea to roll right up to the start line in a long, white limousine.  A harem of ladies who are less than 1/3rd your age streaming out on all sides before your grand entrance.  Seems like a good place for a roof rack instead of a hitch rack, but feel that out with the rental company first before just slapping your rocky mounts and bike on the top of a $90,000 automobile.

5) Harem.  But instead of a bunch of girls who are less than half your age, bring your pets.  For whatever reason, there is no human being on earth who will ever love you as much as the playmates loved Hef, but your labrador can get close to that kind of deep affection if you feed her enough pizza.  Be sure to bring enough spare sets of bunny ears to accommodate creek running, ball fetching, the occasional fight, pond swimming, deer chasing, etc.  A labrador can blow through a lot of bunny ears headbands in a single evening outside.

6)  Erection-bike.  I don't know how you'd pull this off, and I realize I'm hitting the bottom of the barrel with this one, but you just know the Best Costume award would go to a decent Hugh Hefner if you just committed to the full 6 hours of action and somehow pulled off a rigid bike as a fleshy, circumcised, (circumcised?)...I'm not sure.  There are thousands of women who could tell you, apparently, but that information doesn't seem be readily available on The Googles.  I'm getting off track here.

Obviously, I've hit rock bottom with this one.  Hef, we'll miss ya.  Wait, will we?  I actually don't think so.  Most people, I imagine, already assumed Hef was dead.  And that's not the point anyway.

The point is that The Paranormal is in 3 weeks.  Sign up, dress up, get it up up up.

The Paranormal 2017

What-what.  What.  What?


 That's right.  The Paranormal will roll down the red carpet 1 month from right now.  Looking at your current state of non-fitness, tendinitis, and general disrepair, I can confirm that you are well and truly fucked as far as "racing" goes, whatever that is anyway.  But, as you and I both know, that doesn't matter, because this isn't about that.  This is about you looking incredible.  This is about celebrating the end of summer and the start of fall riding.  This is about drinking and eating and laughing and supporting CAMBC and fall beer selections and a variety of other annual things that deserve celebration.  This is about people like John Petrylak passing you 7 to 10 times over the course of 6 hours.   Technically, when Johnny P rolls through the transition area going mach 10 and you're lounging by the bonfire in your slutty MerMan costume drinking free beer and eating everything in sight, that counts as being passed.  And it feels amazing.  You look terrific by the way.

So really, I'm here to tell you that you have 1 month to swell up to non-race weight and wedge yourself into the most offensive, politically incorrect, semi-dangerous-to-ride-bikes-in-but-still-actually-ride-bikes costume you can muster.

And don't you dare tell me you don't have a costume.  I swear to Odin I will whack you right in the ding-ding with one of these leftover styrofoam Thor's hammers from yesteryear, make you carry it, and tie a cape around your neck that is long enough to almost certainly get wrapped up in your otherwise undecorated XTR derailleur.  Don't push me on this.  I've got enough lost and found costumes from years past in my basement to outfit the entire Wu Tang Klan, if for some reason Wu Tang didn't want to just come dressed as themselves.  (WuTang, if you come, please dress as Wu Tang.)

Plus, over the course of the last decade, I've spouted off about a million costume ideas right here in this hinterland of the internet.  A quick search should produce a lot of terrible ideas.  You can also youtube some paranormal starts from years past for ideas about how to look fantastic but still race your face off, if that's your bag baby.


Bonus costume idea, and hard to believe this is the case, but "young macklemore" in that fur coat with the baby blue scooter would be a good one.  Is Thrift shop really 5 years old already?  Jesus.  Anyone who can Fred-Flintstone a full paranormal lap on that Mackle-scooter, we'll have approximately $9000 in free beer and whiskey for you when you hit the finish line.  You'll need it.

There's a kids race too, typically starting at 3 pm, which conveniently is about the same time that Scotty emerges from his dressing room/creeper van in whatever sexually deviant, offensive, scary, wonderful costume he's managed to squeeze his chainsaw swinging triceps into that year.  Kids love this.  They don't get it necessarily, but instinctively they understand that it's hilarious.  No matter; we'll ply 'em with butterfingers and soda and point em out on a limited edition course in pursuit of Junior glory.

The big kids (read: YOU) race starts at 4 PM, or as soon as Shawn loads up the shotgun and lets one rip.  He'll shoot the shotgun too.

Anyway, by this point, most of you understand how this all works by experience, and those that don't can usually find real information on the world wide web.  I'd link you directly to said info - the sign up link/website/big blue marketing hype machine - for you to review, but Marky Mark has been out of the country, presumably wearing a fur fox skin, and holding down that seat at the end of the bar reserved for the guy who is just a little too old to be in this bar but he's here anyway.

But I'm sure he'll sober up soon and pull that stuff together for those who need it, which -  if you're reading this blog - is probably not you anyway.

Costume-Haters and Procrastinators: Get Your Shit Together.  I can't say it any clearer than that.

Until next episode, I remain, yours truly...

The Haunted Head

These and other personal myths debunked, tonight on "Turning 40 next year"

Singlespeeding SM100 is actually easier than riding a geared bike.

I'm in peak trailwork shape right now, 4 or 5 hours of bench cutting per week has been totally fine.

I don't think I need any strength training anymore.  Singlespeeding and trailwork pretty much have me covered.

I'll never run again.

Etc.

13:18

13 hours and 18 minutes of proving, as I suspected, that the expiration date on real, hard, terrible, deep endurance racing fitness is greater than a decade.  Even if you pull it out of the fridge, leave it in the sun, and don't touch it very often - it's still there, and it's technically edible.  You might not like it, but you'll survive.



And a smile to show for it.

In the name of science, I say.  Up, up, up.