Tales From Bondage Ball

If someone would have asked me a year ago to brag about my most memorable night of Halloween mayhem,my stories would have probably put some of you to sleep.

Sure, there was the year I dressed up as as a pro-wrestler and got trashed at my friends backyard party while swatting at pumpkins with a baseball bat. Or, if I we're going old school, there was the time I challenged a group of friends in 4th grade to see who could scarf a pillow case full of candy the fastest. But mostly, Halloween is just another excuse to drink and pass out at a house party. Pretty god-damn Vanilla right? Well, not this year.

Last weekend, tucked inside the dark caverns of The Echoplex,Halloween night at L.A.'s Bondage Ball was anything but standard.

After only a few minutes of standing in line, I watched the streets come alive as cars whizzed by, honking their horns at a small army of costumed kooks, leather-clad nymphs and cross dressers who looked like frustrated high school teachers limping around in fishnet pantyhose. By 9:30, the line of devilishly dressed S&M enthusiasts was so long that the chances of bumping into the devil or an undercover politician were actually pretty good.

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