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Joel Stein is right: cultural celebrations should be stratified strictly by age and women need to tone it the fuck down. When adults and children find delight in the same traditions, it’s a sign that your culture is going to hell in a handbasket. And if women have to have sexual agency, could they at least stop flinging it in Joel Stein’s face? That’s just not nice.

Holidays are for children and conservatives. And the one holiday that is still just for kids — free of campaigns to replace Santa with creches, painted eggs with crucifixes, fireworks with flag lapel pins — has been ruined by the rest of the adults.

Wha? OK, the crazy Christian holiday wars I’ll give him, but who in the fuck is fighting to replace fireworks?

This year, I was invited to six Halloween parties, which would not be strange if it weren’t for the fact that I’m older than 12.

By the end of this article, there’s half a dozen people in Los Angeles who won’t be making that mistake again.

Meanwhile, I was invited to zero New Year’s Eve parties last year. People vastly prefer Halloween parties because New Year’s Eve involves dressing up like an adult, whereas Halloween involves dressing up like a slut.

Actually, New Year’s Eve offers key fancy-dress opportunities and is infamous as a time to go for that last-ditch attempt to get that date/kiss/fuck you wanted all year. So don’t go around diminishing the skank factor of New Years just to make your slut-resenting argument a little stronger in October.

I understand that the masquerade ball is a classic that faded away, and that people need an opportunity to hide behind a mask in order to safely express their hidden selves. It makes sense that once a year I get to peek into your psyche and find out whether you think of yourself as a whore nurse, a whore pirate, a whore angel or a whore whore.

That’s fine. But not on the kids’ favorite day.

So in case it wasn’t clear what Joel was talking about, by “adults” he means “females” and he’s going to open up a can of tsk-tsk on our asses for not thinking of the children. Joel himself doesn’t know any children, because otherwise he’d realize that kids have several days better than Halloween, including Christmas, the Last Day of School, and Pizza Hut in the Cafeteria Day. And that trick-or-treating is frequently a whole separate event from adults events, and that school Halloween parties haven’t been banned just because somewhere in Jersey a woman is buying a “sexy 19th century steel tycoon” costume. However, Joel can’t very well lecture the whole city of Los Angeles because he spent last Halloween in the emergency room with an erection that lasted longer than 12 hours, so he’s taking the manly way out and hiding behind the kids, who have not seen a significant decrease in their 6-8PM Saturday-Closest-to-Halloween trick-or-treating haul despite the skyrocketing rates of 18-35 year-old female skankitude at Halloween parties across the land.

There’s no chance that harrumphing will return Halloween to the innocent and carefree days of threatening neighbors who don’t give you candy and vandalizing trees with toilet paper.

But don’t let that stop you from trying. Really, don’t, because I assure you you are not funny enough to pull off what you are about to do.

So we need to invent a separate holiday when adults can get drunk and finally wear that pair of boots that seemed OK in the store but it turns out go up a little higher than you thought.

That’s why, after much research and consultation, I have founded our nation’s newest holiday: Slut Day.

Slut Day? Just a day? But chastity gets a whole month!

Slut Day rights the wrong that dates to the late ’80s, when San Francisco’s Exotic Erotic Ball, which takes place on Halloween, went mainstream. Even at liberal-yet-uptight Stanford University, I was dragged with my freshman dorm mates to an Exotic Erotic party, where I wore a red clip-on bow tie and a plastic bag from the campus bookstore that I had punctured for leg holes.

Uh, kinky?

It was neither exotic nor erotic. But it did make a point that society has since learned: Neither gender wants men to try to be sexy.

Tell that to the half-naked “sailors” I was dancing with at my towns humongous Halloween extravaganza last night. Men who slutted it up were more than amply rewarded by crowds of appreciative women.

Slut Day will embrace that fact by having all men dress like Hef: silk pajamas or bathrobes only. No, those aren’t sexy either, but women feel uncomfortable if they’re wearing a fishnet bodysuit and their date is wearing chinos and a blue Oxford. Or a bow tie and a bookstore bag.

So you want a special day in which women dress scantily and men emulate those who would exploit them for obscene profit. Also, women still get to invest in costumes where guys can just toss a bathrobe on. That’s just the sort of power-structure inversion and social release that carnivals are all about. I see this day really catching on, you know, among clueless douchebags.

So enjoy your last Slutoween. I’ve put some calls in to Playboy…

Riiiigggghhhhhttttt.

…asking it to spearhead this movement and drop its yearly Halloween party, its second-biggest annual event. I also beseeched Playboy to channel all its party-planning energy into its biggest annual event: the Midsummer Night’s Dream Party, which, it turns out, takes place the first weekend of August.

Yeah, good luck with that, and with that getting a date thing.

h/t feministing