Christina Dallas, Portrait from the Observation Room, #2.

Stuff like this ALWAYS! never happens to me after a Halloween party.

For more on Brooklyn artist Christina Dallas, click here.

Thanks!: BLORT!

Lady de Guadalupe Casket. $895. For Cherrybomb who is so tired that she thinks this looks like a great place for a forever nap.

Holy Day of the Dead! This Lady de Guadalupe Casket, now available for your Walmart Wish List or ahem, Registry (which actually makes sense, it’s good to plan ahead. Or for, let’s say tomorrow around 3:00), retails for $895.

The Winkie, the cleavage cover-upper. For K.

I know two things about The Winkie:

1: The Winkie is not a thong.
2: The Winkie was  not created by a man.
3: Cherrybomb can’t count.

The fascist boobie-haters behind The Winkie, say they came up with the idea to “cover cleavage and provide a solution to plunging necklines.” Both of which I’m sure haven’t been formerly identified as “problems”, per-say. World Hunger? That’s a problem. Unemployment rates at an all time high? That’s a problem. Being out of Vodka? Definitely a fucking EMERGENCY! problem.

Anyway, who could possibly be anti-cleavage? That’s right, nobody. Unless you’re an ass-man. In that case, carry the fuck on.

KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park, 1978.

Nothing this cool ever happens to me when I’m wondering through a haunted Amusement park on Halloween. Anyway, this clip from KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park (one of my all-time favorite Halloween/anytime flicks) has everything. Flying robots, laser beams, fire breathing blowhards demons, cheezy porno music, Kung-Fu and, uh…KISS!

Spat Solver. The Ultimate Argument Resolution Device. $19.95. Thanks!: RDK.

Sadly, Spat Solver isn’t a real product. Which also means that the handy Apologizer isn’t real either. FML.

Vintage 1970’s Kid’s Baretta Costume.

Parrot not included.

Mickey Rourke out trick or treating in Hollywood last night.

If you read this blog, you might have noticed that is has been rather “Rourkeless” as of late. Well the dry spell is officially OVER! Mickey hit the town last night in Hollywood looking 100% less leathery than usual. I’m not real keen on Rourke’s wonky vag-stash, but I’ll give his mime ass a pass just for coming out to play for the paps last night. I don’t know about you, but my day is always a little bit better if there is a little Rourke in it. True story.

More photos at Dlisted.