Here are five tips for enjoying Halloween courtesy of Somecodes:

1. Haunted Houses can be expensive and have long lines. If you want some real scares, take the kids to Sizzler instead.

2. Here’s a fun party game for the kids. Blindfold them and have them feel cold spaghetti noodles. Tell the kids they are touching intestines! Next, have them touch peeled grapes and say they are “eyeballs.” After that use the garbage disposal to replicate a school of piranhas.

3. Remember, nothing improves self-esteem more than dressing up like a slutty nurse, drinking until you vomit and passing out on a park bench.

4. You know what would be hilarious? Dressing up the dog in a costume.

5. The best Halloween costumes are the ones that are made using wit, creativity, and basic materials that can be found in the home, you cheap piece of shit.

And in honor of the most important holiday ever, I thought we’d take a look back at the scariest music stories of the year. (At least since we’ve been updating the gossip column.)

Mariah Carey wants to make a movie based on her Christmas album.

Heidi Montag to unleash a Christian album on the world.

Michael Jackson loves Frisbee and KFC….

…and he was supposedly bonin’ Pamela Anderson.

And imagine how horrifying it would be to work for Courtney Love.  

TI told Tyra Banks that he lost his virginity when he was a preteen. “I’m embarrassed, 11, I’m sorry… If it makes it any better we had two kids together later on,” he said to Banks on her talk show.

Later on? Like when he was 12?  Why is it celebrities insist on bragging in a way that is supposed to make us feel sorry for them? Yeah, I’m rich, I’ve gotten laid my entire life, and I’m in a lot of personal pain.

The only things I lost when I was 11 were the weapons to my Star Wars figures. My Dad had to attach them with superglue because I was partially retarded and couldn’t even handle the responsibility of a tiny laser blaster. Who knows what I would have done with a big, fat vagina in my face?

Let me just warn all of you now… don’t marry Madonna. Whew. That was close. There is still hope for everyone except Guy Ritchie.

Besides having to be married to the sinewy, 80-year-old cult member all of these years, the last two years of Guy’s life have been overshadowed by a contract that he signed after he and the Material Girl attended marriage counseling.

According to sources, the contract stipulated the couple’s private time together, determined how often they would have sex, and instructed Guy on how to handle arguments. (Guy wasn’t allowed to shout at Madonna; instead, he was forced to look her in the eye and say, “I understand that my actions may have upset you. Please work with me to resolve this.”)

Madonna apparently pinned the contract to the wall in their house, and every time Guy did something she didn’t like she would say, “Contract, Guy, contract.” No word on whether or not the contract included detailed instructions on how Guy was to remove his balls, or if Madonna just did that for him.

Remember Major Movie Star? You know, Major Movie Star, the Jessica Simpson movie? The one where she is forced to join the army? Oh yeah, that never got a US release. That shit never even went straight to DVD.

Instead it was shipped off to Russia, where it was tops at the box office this week. You read that right, Major Movie Star was number one at the box office in Russia. This movie needs to come to Blockbuster pronto, because it must make for one fantastic drinking game. How else would you explain the popularity of this shit-fest? Only in a country where there was nothing else to do but find creative ways to drink vodka could a movie of this caliber be the box office king.

I think Jessica should just take her crappy music to Siberia anyway. There’s thousands of desolate square miles where no one has to listen to it. I bet the wolves there will be pissed though.  

That’s right; it’s time to dust off your red leather jacket and oil the hinges on your Webster lunch box, because the former King of Pop is ready to reclaim his title.

Word on the street is that Michael Jackson is busy recording his new album at the Palms Resort in Las Vegas. That would explain the Michael Jackson slot machine in the casino. If you hit the jackpot you get to cuddle with Michael for a full night, and he promises to wear the glove.  

But not only can we look forward to a new album, word on the same street I mentioned above is that Jack-o will be embarking on a 30-city tour through the United States some time in 2009. No information yet on whether Macaulay Culkin with be on tour to reprise his “Black or White” rap, but as far as we know he’s available.  

Dr. Pepper can’t believe it either. The soft drink company made a promise to give everybody a free can of Dr. Pepper if Guns N’ Roses actually released the long-awaited Chinese Democracy this year.

“We never thought this day would come,” said Dr. Pepper VP of marketing Tony Jacobs. “But now that it’s here, all we can say is: The Dr. Pepper’s on us.”

Fans can register online at the official Dr. Pepper website to receive a coupon for a free one on November 23rd, the day Democracy is supposedly going to be released. The catch– the complimentary Dr. Pepper was all bottled in 1993, the year GNR last released an album.

I’m kidding. I don’t want to get sued by those bastards like the time I revealed to the world that Dr. Pepper is made out of prunes. Prunes I tell ya! Prunes! DR. PEPPER IS MADE OUT OF PRUNES!

For her upcoming album, I am Sasha Fierce. Wouldn’t it just have been easier to call the new record, I am Beyonce Knowles?

No. Too easy. And since Beyonce assumes that someone in America cares, she released the following statement explaining the name change:

“I have someone else that takes over when it’s time for me to work and when I’m on stage, this alter ego that I’ve created that kind of protects me and who I really am. Sasha Fierce is the fun, more sensual, more aggressive, more outspoken side and more glamorous side that comes out when I’m working and when I’m on the stage.”

So there you go. No word yet on whether she’s also the new Vivid Video contract girl.

I wasn’t aware the you could actually retire songs, but Justin Timberlake performed “SexyBack” for supposedly the last time at his concert in Las Vegas this weekend: “Justin Timberlake and Friends: A Special Evening Benefiting the Shriners Hospitals for Children.”

The show has already been lauded by critics as the concert with the longest name ever.

While no explanation was offered as far as why Timberlake decided to retire “SexyBack,” he did say that he’s concentrating on writing for other artists rather than his solo career at this point.

Is it really wise for him to retire one of his biggest hits? The guy only has two solo albums. Maybe he’s setting up his third record, “SexyBackAgain.” 

Today the trial of the century resumes as a jury tries to decide if Britney Spears will or will not receive the death sentence for driving with an invalid license the day she was involved in a fender bender in August 07.

Today will be the third day of deliberations for the jury which is deadlocked 10-2. The trial is expected to last five weeks, a few days longer than the time she protested a parking ticket. It’s nice to see our taxes at work!  

But what should concern Britney fans even more than her potential public hanging is that Miller Coors LLC has decided to discontinue Zima, leaving Britney fans with nothing to drink and leaving me with one less option when trying to pick up high school girls.

It must be rough being a party planner for Kanye West: “Let’s see, do we have Chex mix? Check. Ice? Check. 40 naked women with wool masks on? Check.”

Kanye hosted a party last week to unveil his upcoming album, 808s and Heartbreak. A source said that “after waiting in an area with an open bar and a DJ, we walked up a driveway… to a darkened room where we saw 40 nude women. Most of them were wearing strange masks made of wool…. Then the entire album played without any introduction or explanation.”

Sounds like some Eyes Wide Shut kind of shit. Kanye later insisted the women were “live performance artists” and the whole thing was art.

When I first moved to Hollywood I too performed art at Kanye West parties. I was naked, but instead of a wool mask I wore a wig made out of spaghetti while a man named Stewart dropped scalding hot meatballs on my stomach. And Kanye West wasn’t there. And it wasn’t really a party per se, just me and Stewart at the Holloway Motel.