coverI hate carving jack-o-lanterns.  Like, haaaaaaate it.  I’m pretty sure it’s all because I was the youngest, way youngest, child in my family.  By the time I was old enough to participate in the annual Halloween pumpkin slaying, everyone else was “over it” and there was a noticeable absence of enthusiasm.  Plus, I always got the knife with the blunt tip.

I don’t know if the blunt tip thing was because I was the youngest or because everyone thought I was a frontrunner for the “Ending The Month Of October With Less Fingers Than He/She Began The Month With” award, because in 1998 (when I was a college freshman), my friend Jamie Hardin threw a Halloween party/get-together/mini high school reunion at her house and I got the fucking blunt tipped knife then, too.So, guess what.  I am NOT carving pumpkins this year.  I was content to just paint some pumpkins until I saw this:


I totally didn’t mean to wait until the last minute to do it, but damn…October is BUSY!  There’s a lot of fun to be packed into one month.  And I don’t believe in partaking in Fall Family Fun & Festivities until I can comfortably wear a hoodie.  Because nobody wants to get lost in a fucking corn maze when it’s 85 degrees out.

So last night, Ron was out of town and Gabriel was tucked in for the night, and I decided, “screw Ron and his strong recommendation to use this ONLY OUTSIDE.  This heavy duty spray adhesive that was probably made in a country where there are no inhalant regulations, and where export laws are more like loose guidelines…I’mma BLING my pumpkins right here in the kitchen!”

Five minutes into it, I was high as fuck and there’s an Instagram to prove it.


So basically, all I did was spray, dust, and roll.  Super simple.

I had an empty ibuprofen bottle that I used to hold the pumpkin upside down, but sort of in mid-air.

I put newspaper down as a way to half-ass protect my work area.

I sprayed the adhesive onto the bottom of the pumpkin, waited a few seconds so it was a little less wet and a little more tacky, and then I dumped glitter over it.

Then I rolled the pumpkin around in the glitter pile to get the sides and any adhesive I may have missed.  Once it was mostly dry (and after I had cleaned up the glitter pile), I did it again to cover the top half of the pumpkin.

I repeated the same steps–first bottom, and then top, so there was a nice, thick double layer of glitter encrusted onto the pumpkin.

If you want your pumpkin to look more like the derelict pumpkin pictures above, use a wet glue like Elmer’s glue, and the glitter will migrate down the sides of the pumpkin, like a Big Gay Pride Landslide of Fabulousness.

I would be willing to bet that you’ll get good results from a craft store type of spray adhesive.  You don’t have to go out and buy heavy duty “get-you-high” industrial strength spray adhesive…that’s just all we happened to have laying around.

Here’s a shitty illustration of instructions.


And for your convenience, you can print out your very own shitty illustration of instructions right here!

I’ll tell you what:  I think my pumpkins look AWESOME.

Many thanks to Lancaster Creative Reuse for hooking me up with $1 bags of glitter.  QUALITY glitter.  And The Country Barn for hooking me up with the 3/$2 Mini Pumpkins–cause that’s where I get pumpkins every year.

They fit in well here in the Magical part of my office at Glitter & Bruises Headquarters!

DSC_0272 copy