The seasons are changing. The temperature drops; the leaves change color; the days grow shorter. The promise of candy and costumes and alcoholic debauchery fills the air. This is my last column before Halloween, and Carlotta Street is just around the corner.No, literally. Just over there, past The Chimes.It seems like it was only 12 months ago when we were last celebrating this most hallow of eves. I was squeezed into a child-sized costume, painted like a harlot and liquored-up beyond belief. I evaded police, tore my outfit on a belligerent fence, crashed a house party, was thrown out of said house party, wandered around in an alcoholic stupor and the next morning woke up, my bed covered in mottled body paint, to my friends’ tales of how inexplicably enraged I had become immediately prior to passing out.Good times.But what about this year?If you are still undecided as to what you should wear, an easy fix is to head to the nearest thrift store and drop a few Washingtons — you are sure to find something worthwhile.But if you fail at being creative, you could just exploit the upcoming election. Surely there is enough partisan fodder to fuel a few dozen variants of Sarah Palin, et al. Yet I would, as others in this paper have, advise against blackface.And yes, there is a difference between wearing a plastic Barack Obama mask and smearing your face with black paint in a manner suggestive of the racist vaudeville methods now widely condemned in Western society. If you are unable to distinguish between the two … well, God bless you; at least you’re capable enough to read this column.As for my own costume, I’m thinking panda.”Way to surprise us, Daniel,” you murmur.Well, get over it. Pandas are awesome.They also get a free prop — the bamboo stick. Of course, there are the obvious uses: to point, to whack, to lazily chew. But it’s Halloween, so we can get creative — Trip the drunkard! Participate in the street riot! Impromptu performance of “Puttin’ on the Ritz!”But a warning to all the lusty young ladies out there: Keep your wits about you. Like Yogi, I am hornier than the average bear. When it comes to women, this panda drinks, shoots and leaves.—-Contact Daniel McBride at [email protected]