I may be a day late on this story, but at least I'm not $60 short. It’s the Halloween that will never end. It lingers in the mysteriously disappearing stale candy in the mushy pumpkin by the door and a few sprinkles of glitter on my cluttered desk. It screams at me on Facebook as 1,733 (as of this morning) unhappy Facebook folk have organized a “We got scammed by Tavern on the Green 2009 Halloween!” group. Thousands of comments recall the true Halloween nightmare these people and many others endured. Many have asked me to weigh in on this, including my editor, so I made some calls.

There's absolutely nothing you can't not like about this. Mischa Barton dressed up as a peacock on Halloween and was left shrieking with horror when she erroneously stepped on a partygoer's foot at some nondescript nightclub She also "accidentally" lobbed a cocktail at this reveler's head, causing him to freak out and hurl a cocktail back at her. Then a row, the type of circumstance you couldn't conjure on a sartorial soap like Barton's short-lived Beautiful Life, erupted, and suddenly it was Soapdish all over again, with drink-chuckers coveting the Elisabeth Shue role, violently claiming not to be heinously bitchy like Cathy Moriarty. Chin up, Misch! Your Devil Day was much better than mine, all things considered!

She wore plastic bubbles for David LaChapelle on the cover of Rolling Stone and, in no particular order, appeared bloodied at this year's VMAs, wrapped a Slinky on her head during a taping of Ellen, and for some reason has an outfit made entirely of stuffed frogs. She might be the most frightening woman in the world aside from Bai Ling, which, when paired with an aversion to pants, makes for Halloween costume gold. A friend of mine went to a party as Gaga with balls, which was rather disconcerting, but her aside, here are five of the more awkward interpretations from Saturday night.

After at least three days of being tricked into a Halloween state of mind, I'm not sure this story will be much of a treat. The longest Halloween ever started for some this past Thursday, and I bet somewhere in New York right now there are still a few partying on. First of all, when did the Village Halloween parade get kidnapped by the straights and the Disney Channel crowd? It used to be a gayer, smaller, sexier, more risque parade. Only a few years ago, it was witches who were switches and a "Top" Chef costume would have looked much different. I guess over the years, observing through the amber-colored glasses of my Elvis costume, I didn't notice. It's not a bad thing, but it is different. Although the rain transformed some costumes, as running mascara turned Britney Spearses into Courtney Loves, and hobgoblins carried umbrellas ... but the spirit was not dampened at all.

Here in the land of women it is a time-honored truth that Halloween is merely an excuse to wear our naughties outdoors. One only needs to throw on her favorite corset, wig, fake eyelashes, tranny heels, and garter belt, and voodoo costume magic, she is good to go. When that creepy guy in the Jon Gosselin bald pate sidles up at the punch bowl and asks who she’s supposed to be, she can simply roll her eyes, be all like, “Sarah Palin, obviously. Don’t you see the glasses?” Unfortunately, a disturbing spike in pantlessness and underwear as outerwear is threatening to render national skivvies night obsolete. Every day can’t be hooker day, can it?

Confirmed members of the dominant patriarchy, the male staff at BlackBook is nevertheless quite accustomed to the charming antics of our female counterparts. Imagine our surprise, disquiet, and near terror this morning when we arrived at the office to find -- the tables turned! The ladies of BlackBook had conspired to accoutrement themselves as our doppelgangers. Apparently the men are so predictable in dress that each woman was able to match our likely attire for the day with eerie accuracy. No, the clown shirts were not coordinated. View the gallery of sartorial horror after the jump.

The collision of Halloween -- the biggest nightclub night of the year west of New Year's Eve -- with a Saturday night creates problems and opportunities. Every joint in town, even the clunkers, are normally jammed on a Saturday. Halloween brings frenzy when it alights on a Monday; how will clubs prevent a loss of revenues as two great cash nights are crammed into one? They can't fit any more people in and can't charge too much more. Halloween revelers tend to want to hop from joint to joint and hit a few home invasion parties as well. There is greater turnover -- more peeps in and out throughout the evening as ghosts and ghouls, goblins and hobgoblins, Michael Jacksons and Thriller posses somehow trek from haunted mansion to haunted house. It may mean a bit more revenue, but not enough to make up for the overlap. Another revenue stream is necessary. Some clubs make loot by expanding the holiday into the entire weekend. Here's a guide to the events defining the day before and the day after tomorrow.

If you aren’t already familiar with critic and filmmaker Matt Zoller Seitz’ video essays, then now’s the perfect time to get acquainted. He’s delivered two this week, both of which make for ideal Halloween viewing. The first, Zombie 101, traces the history of the zombie genre, from Jacques Tourneur’s classic voodoo parable I Walked With a Zombie up to more recent, neo-zombie inventions like Shaun of the Dead and 28 Days Later. The second, Unreal Estate, is a poetic survey of some of cinema’s eeriest establishing shots. The fun here is seeing just how many you can identify. Sure, Psycho is an easy one, but Event Horizon? Both essays after the jump.

Funny thing about living in Los Angeles instead of a more urban city like Seattle or New York: People live in actual houses, not brownstones, or tenements, or apartments squished on top of each other. It's basically, as Dorothy Parker said, "72 suburbs in search of a city." This means that Halloween feels more like the holiday of your youth. Kids trick or treat on the street, not within your apartment building halls (I always felt so sad for the New York kids who were robbed of that fun experience). The other thing that's different about L.A. during Halloween? The haunted houses. Sure, there's the average amateur spook shop, with bad special effects and bad lighting, mostly aimed at giving little kids a cheap thrill. But we've got Hollywood here, and the many thousands of people who are employed by Hollywood, who work behind the scenes in the movie industry and who can create haunted houses that are far more advanced and eerie than anything you're likely to see elsewhere.

It’s Halloween week and we’ve scared up a few (okay, a lot) parties for you to go. There’s a wide range of events -- from the intimate to the out-of-control -- so you can decide if you’re feeling like having a grown-up Halloween weekend or a can’t-let-go-of your adolescence Halloween weekend. And since this is the first year that Michael Jackson is not with us, it’s only appropriate that there be an all-out Thriller-themed event. Casey Connors spins the party, held at the Dakota Live Music Lounge, which will have several costume contests, including Best MJ, Scariest, and Most Original, plus an MJ Dance contest. And what would a Thriller party be without a Best Zombie category? Saturday at 9.