Fun ruiners everywhere will relate to this angry tale of woe as we head into the most heavily costumed week of the year:

Dearest Halloween party-throwers—Go eff yourself! Yeah, you're right, I showed up to your crappy little party without a costume. Sorry if I just caused the universe to end and ruined any chance for you to have fun. Sorry if you can't wrap your head around the idea that maybe, just maybe, your party wasn't my number-one priority this week. Sorry I have a busy fucking life! "Where's my cape?!"... I wore my "cape" all week, actually—you costume Nazi—except instead of wrapping it around my neck, I wrapped it around my waist and called it an "apron" so I could serve assholes like you food and alcohol till late at night at my second job. You ever hear of a 13-hour work day?! Well you might want to pull your painted face out of your tights-covered ass and learn to relax—it's Halloween and you are damn-near 30 years old. So quit your pouting and calling me out to everyone else, as if I am tearing down some fourth wall. They don't care, either!

Halloween: It's a class thing.