I Was Just Doing My Job!

It's been a while since I've had a Dumb Colleen story. Last night, I had a fantastic time at my company's holiday party, btw. I don't think anyone had less than 3 glasses of whatever their drink of choice was. I told my parents about it when I got home and their response was, "Yeah. We can tell." Whatever THAT means.

Anyways, here's what I did today:

Early this afternoon at work, one of the doctors, handed me an envelope. Now, I'm used to him handing me envelopes and usually it means, "Can you please stamp this?" 9 out of 10 times, he'll ask me out loud because they are very respectful and nice to you there. So when he just said, "Here you go." I assumed that since it was a shorter day for everyone, he was just cleaning house and wanted me to mail something and that it was simply a case of him being one-track minded (as in 'it's Friday and we all have to be out of here early so we're in time for the Christmas party').

So I start to automatically put it into the postage machine without even bothering to look at it or basically even get up to do so. My co-worker Linda rushes over to me and goes, "DON'T DO THAT!" She grabs the envelope out of the machine. "That's your holiday bonus!!"

Oops. Well, in my defense, I was really expecting it so how was I supposed to know what I was handed? haha, I'm a dumbass. I tried to mail my bonus!

Okay, off to the airport. Jay & I are going to California til Monday. Yay! I wanted to do fun video blogs from the airport/plane (we have the same layover in Las Vegas), but I was told I have a problem lol. We shall see!

Nagini Is Hungry

I heard this wonderfully gross story at work on Monday night. It was the perfect cure to stop eating so freaking many M&M's instead of dinner. Kallie, a high school senior, told me it:

A girl she used to work with had a pet snake. She used to sleep with this snake each night because "it was just like a dog." There came a time when said snake stopped eating. It also stopped curling up on her bed and began to stretch on longways next to her. Kallie's co-worker began to worry because her beloved pet snake had stopped. She took it to the vet after a week of not eating.

What did she learn?

Oh, nothing. Just that the snake wasn't eating because it was preparing for a big meal. What meal? Oh, just HER. Apparently the snake was stretching because it was sizing her out to eat her.

Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew.

Can you imagine going into work and being like, "Where's Sally Jo?" "Oh, her pet snake ATE HER last night."

Ew. Ew. Ew.

So much for loyal pets.

Ew.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

Another Labor Day weekend has come and gone. Jay came up to NY again, just like last year, but this year, we stayed at my aunt's house on Long Island. It actually totally rocked because she's in Key West (hello and goodbye, Gustav) til next Monday, so we got to play house for a few days. In no particular order, we watched the second season of The X-Files because we're cool like that, played with the dog (I'm technically dog sitting), played in the pool, went Down Port with Ian, Matero, & Bobby, braved a trip to the Outback (which we swore off back in January after we went 3 times in one week), ate McNulty's (greatest ice cream ever), partook in a croquet battle with my family for my mom's birthday (don't ask), scared ourselves into being awake all night because we thought we heard a noise that ended up being the dog sitting down heavily at 4am, and ate an entire pizza/order of garlic knots from Alfredo's in one sitting (ugh). Dropped him off at the airport at 6am this morning, boooo. Now I don't know what to do with myself alone here for the next week, but at least I'll be in Raleigh in 12 days. Countdown commences.

Anyway, for some work anecdotes:

• A man told me last week that I look like the type of person who is "used to getting her way by charming people or by not charming people" and that he bet that I was the "youngest in my family and the only girl." Umm, that could not be further from the truth on either account. 1) I cannot look like someone used to getting my way because a) there is a reason that I am not in sales, but rather a writer and that is because I am horrible at expressing what I want while I am speaking outloud and b) That's why I get so high strung sometimes; because I don't know how to charm my way into getting what I want, so I just freak out about stuff not working out before I even give it a chance! So WHATeva playa. 2) I am NOT the youngest in my family, nor the only girl. In fact, I am the OLDEST of THREE girls and a neutered dog. Pffft. Smart ass.

• A woman who brings her mother in twice a week was talking to me about Broadway. This woman begins to tell me about the Broadway revival of "South Pacific" and then goes on to mock whisper, "It must have been GAY night!!!" Without even really giving it much thought, I kinda said to myself, "Well, duh, you went to see a Broadway musical." Then she continue, however, to declare, "SERIOUSLY, I do not care WHAT you do in your own private home but I do NOT wish to see you hold hands or do other sexual things in public!!" That was at the point where I gave up.

Okay, many more to follow, I am sure. The end for now!

Of North Carolina, Moby & Reunions

Okay, so. Saturday night. I've done basically nothing all day but clean and read and watch TV. I went to bed at 5:30pm last night because I had a bit of a migraine. My head hurt for most of today, but it feels much better. I'm going out to the Upper West Side in an hour to meet up with Eddie, Anthony, and whoever else for a little Marist reunion.

So I was in North Carolina last week, from Tuesday, November 27 - Sunday, December 2. Luckily, I had a relatively smooth airport experience both ways. I'm a rockstar for getting a week and a half off from work. *Pats self on the back.* Got lots of Christmas shopping done before I left, which is gooooood.

Got in around noon on the 27th and Clif picked me up. We chilled for the entire day: got some food and then walked around in downtown Raleigh and visited the Museum of Natural Sciences and the Museum of History. Then we hit up the mall for a bit and met Jay back at Clif's apartment. All in all, a really really fun day :)

After dinner with Jay's fam at the infamous Ruby Tuesday, we headed back to University of North Carolina at Pembroke where Jay goes to school. Hung out there all week, watched the entire first season of Veronica Mars and the movie Children of Men. Friday night we went back to Raleigh and went to this little indie venue called the Brewery to see the singer of Jay's old band perform with his new band. We got back at like 2am & had to get up at 5am because Jay had to work from 6am-10ish (he keeps score for hockey games). Saturday night we went to this burger joint where we had our first unofficial date in April & then to the movies to see August Rush. It was a really sappy chick flick, so naturally I loved it & cried at the end. We stayed up til like 2:30am after the movie because we had to finish Veronica Mars before I left, which was probably not the best of plans since I had to be up at 6am to get to the airport by 7am because I had an 8am flight.

Waaaaaaay too early on Saturday morning at the Iceplex. Like 7am too early. Like you can see the dark circles under our eyes too early.

All in all, it was really great: relaxing, nice to just do normal couple things that we never get to do because of the distance. So naturally, I've been sulking all week about having to be back in New York.

So anyway, we had our office Christmas party on Thursday night at a bar called Hi-Fi. It was actually incredibly fun. Afterwards, Max, Jeff, and I trekked all the way to Chelsea to a nightclub called Hiro, where Moby was spinnin'. Yeah, I'm not really a big fan of Moby, to be honest, but it was still cool. Jeff pushed me up on stage when he came out, so I took pictures from like a foot away to put up on StarkedNY. So click on that if you're a fan of Moby or if you want to see the pictures for shits & giggles. I got home after 3am though, so I was a bit of a zombie yesterday but surprisingly not really hungover at all. Then again, we were sober by the time we got to Hiro, since the open bar on the boss ended as soon as we left the office party ha.

Okay, it's 9:45pm and I need to go get ready to leave here soon. Peace out cub scouts!

'Kink' Just Got Kinkier

So who remembers when I shared with the world the view directly across the from my office window? Well, I got into work today to find that the Kink Museum of Sex has accessorized a bit:

Yes, that does say "Golden Showers," "Penetration," "Scat," "Mudlarking," & "Knicker Wetting." At work before, Jeff & I were trying to figure out what "Shrimping" is. I was going to look it up on urbandictionary.com, but got too lazy.

Updated: I did just look it up. Oooookay then. Shrimping. Anti-climatic. Probably doesn't taste as good as actual shrimp, either.

Sex is staring me in the face.

Ok, so first week at real job is almost over, woot woot. Sorry that I didn't really tell anyone about it; it happened quickly & it's a pretty freaking sweet job. I was kinda afraid that maybe it was too good to be true so I didn't want to make a big deal of it. I'm the editorial director for an online indie radio station called BreakThru Radio. Admittedly, I don't know a whole lot about indie music, but I do know something about writing, publicity & promotions so holler. I'll learn quick, it's just a matter of becoming familiar with artists, DJs, venues, etc. I actually work with Annie Russell so it'll be just like capping (Marist's senior class that everyone has to take & pass in their majors in order to graduate - Annie, Julia, Rachel, Courtney King & I made our own magazine, which was SO awesome) all over again, only with paychecks & free lunches twice a week. Sweet.

Anyway, I actually started this post to share with everyone the view that's directly across the street from the window in the office:

Please note that the sign to the right of the entrance reads, "Please do not touch, lick, stroke or mount the exhibits." Uh-huh, that's right. Dirrrrty.

P.S. Here's my new favorite thing. It's a spoof on Jeter/A-Rod's friendship. Fun for fans of all teams.

Sunday Night Bitchfest

Today was one of those days. I worked my crappy job yesterday (Sat.) 3pm-11pm. Got home around 11:20pm. Had to get up at 5:30am to be at work again at 7am. Naturally, I couldn't fall asleep. Chatted with Princess Cupcake Assface Randy, John Norton & Bobby via AIM & tried for sleep for real around 1am. Finally, I was just about asleep when my phone rang at 1:52am. It's Tricia, calling from a party that I didn't go to bc of the whole 5:30am thing. It was at Chris Tryller, Mike Tuite & Matt Niegocki's house in Miller Place (I guess I missed the memo when they moved out of Ridge). I haven't seen them in a while so I should've gone. Alas, alack.

Usually, I send drunk dials to voice mail, for several reasons: 1) If I'm asleep; 2) If I'm bitter that I'm not the one inebriated; 3) The potential mockery/blackmailing of the recording is always promising. However, I had told Trish before she left work that if she needed a ride home, to just call me since MP is only like 10 minutes & I'd come get her if she really needed it. So I'm figuring that she's either 1) drunk & needing a ride or 2) drunk & wondering why I didn't end up going. Come to think of it, I don't think I preferred it to be either of those, so I'm not sure why I even answered, but I did. Then I was AWAKE again. Meh. I think I fell asleep around 2:30am.

There was absolutely NOTHING to do at work that early. Bill (one of my managers) was really sick with a stomach bug so I just sorta sat on the counters & read Glamour for 2 hours. 2 hours that I could've been sleeping but instead was reading the "30 Things Every Woman Should Know About Sex By Age 30". Very educational, particularly this one:

14. An oldie but a goodie: Kegels, Kegels, Kegels. If you do them, you’ll not only have stronger orgasms, you’ll also never again pee when you laugh.

FINALLY, A WAY FOR ME TO EXPRESS MY AMUSEMENT AND NOT BE WORRIED ABOUT SOILING MYSELF! YESSSSSS.

I wandered around on break in search of Grandma's Xmas gift (she wants a lipstick case of all things, go figure). No luck. After I got off at 3pm, Mom instructed me to get a manicure for an interview I have tomorrow. All I wanted to do was go for a run to destress & continue the lipstick case search at the mall. But I lose the battle & go.

Naturally, I'm there waiting for 35 minutes. When I'm up, I'm massively pissed bc I'm now starving from not really eating much all day (when I'm tired, I have no appetite) in addition to being pooped. To add to it, my mom was paying bc she was forcing me to waste my precious afternoon & I was instructed to get an appropriate, neutral color. Yeah, I'm one of those gals who love red & bright blue & purple nail polishes. This was not helping my mood. I also get the shitty manicurist bc the awesome one is of course busy. So I'm radiating little white girl bitch.

I continue tapping my foot in an impatient & obnoxious way when this woman walks in with some guy. She loudly announces, "I need two manicures, please! It's my husband's FIRST one! Can you believe he's NEVER HAD A MANI BEFORE?!"

Picture this: Blonde, ditzy, loud, LI accent, about 35, track suit...She wasn't all decked out by any means but she was a Shiela/Hera (2 characters Phil basically wrote for me in 05 & '06 for Festival, one act student written/acted/produced/directed plays, mainly bc I rock at emulating the stereotypical LI Italian/Jewish housewife being that I grew up surrounded by them.) So yes, Shiela/Hera is taking her hubby to get his nails did & announcing it to the world. There was an assertion about him needing a bikini wax too, but at that point, I wasn't going to ruin the sight of the poor guy getting his cuticles cut with the image of him & a bowl of hot wax.

I rush out of there & sit at every traffic light on 25A/347 on my way to the mall. I go to every single make up/accessories counter at Macy's with no luck. I'm still hungry, tired & frustrated. I needed to pick up my cousin Matt's gift, but I stopped to get a pretzel from Auntie Anne's. The line's long. I'm about to order when this little asshole punk about 10 cuts me. NOT happy. I start to say something when his fat, bossy mother appears. I turn to tell her that her brat needs to wait in line like everyone else. But I realize as I open my mouth that I don't need to get into a fight with a pushy LI soccer mom a week before Christmas. So I just snap to the pretzel guy, "That kid just cut in front of me, right?" Then Soccer Mama starts yelling at him for giving Dudley a cinnamon pretzel when he wanted a salted one. (BULLSHIT, I heard the kid ask for cinnamon. Keep your fucking kid under control, lady.)

Whatever. I'm still in a shitty mood, pushing through the masses to get a damn Hot Topic gift certificate. Can I just say that it's the most unorganized store ever? 3 people behind the counter, none of whom can figure out how to ring up customers in a timely fashion. And when did HT get such shit? I was never a HT shopper, but dug some of their stuff. Hell, the negleige I wore for Rocky Horror Show is from there & I looked f'ing hot in that thing. I have the "JEM" & the "Cowbell" shirt. Granted, I haven't been in one in over a year, but damn, the quality has gone down. I'm still hungry so while passing by Lindt's I figure "Hell, I'll get myself a dark chocolate truffle to nurse my annoyance." Yeah, so it came to like $.43 & I only had $.42. Does the girl cut me a break on the penny? No, of course not. I really wanted that chocolate so I sucked it up & broke the $1.

At least today is over. I "wasn't allowed" to call out tomorrow for my interview, so I had to agree to go in from 8am-12pm THEN get on a train to go into Manhattan (why does it feel like I'm spending more of my non-Ann Taylor time in the city than I am on LI?) I need to finally move to Brooklyn with Amanda. Someone find me a real job, I'm getting tired of looking. Anything journalism or PR would be swell. Bonus if it involves entertainment or theatre. I'll buy you TWO truffles. And have my little sister bake you brownies; she makes awesome brownies...

I'm a wild & untamed thing

"I'd rather stick my dick in a blender." -Funniest text message Chris Golio has ever sent me.

California on Monday morning! Then Tricia & I are going to drive back across country, leaving sometime Tuesday? Colleen = Excited. I know we're probably stopping in Vegas, we're stopping in Tennessee so she can see her grandmother & in Baltimore to visit her dad (yessssss, our last adventure in Baltimore back in April was SO much fun; I got to see some of the places that Tricia caused trouble when she was growing up & then during her Towson days). I think getting away from everything on Long Island that's completely stressed me out since I got home in May will be just what I need, since the only other thing that would be 'just what I need' is a real job & that one's obviously workin' like gangbusters.

Aaaaanyway, I don't really have any fun work stories at the moment - except that when you're in the wordrobing room, you can hear people in the break room, since there's a little window that connects the two. There's a vending machine right against the shared wall that breaks every other day & often times, whoever's in the dressing room can hear whoever's frustrated with the vending machine banging/shaking it in order to get their candy out (usually the Swedish Fish get stuck, FYI in case anyone ever finds themselves in the break room of Ann Taylor anytime soon).

So this afternoon, I hear someone beating the shit out of this machine for being such a withholding little bitch. I open the window & call out, "Stop beating up the vending machine!" (I was going to make a tasteless misogynistic joke too but alas, did not.) Usually, someone will say something back, but this time - nothing. So I thought nothing of it til about an hour later when one of the stock guys, Ryan, comes up to me.

Ryan: "Did you yell at Dillion (new guy) for shaking the vending machine?"
Me: "Yeah, I heard him giving it a beatdown through the wall."
Ryan: "He thought that it was an automated message. He came back white as a ghost, claiming that the vending machine was TALKING to him, telling him to stop shaking it!!"

Exactly. And in case you're wondering, hell yeah I made fun of the new guy for the rest of the day. I don't care if he's Lisa's brother. Dude thought the vending machine was talking to him...

Ok, that's enough for one night. I'm off for the next 2 weeks. Yaaaay for not having to work, boooo for how broke I'm going to be soon!!

Oh - holler at me if you want me to send you a postcard or something, since everyone knows I'm big on that shit since I'm so cheesy. Roadtripping advice also encouraged.

P.S. STARKED NYC's been down since Wednesday, which SUCKS cause I spent like 2 hours on Wed night doing all the Daily News Links with a Rocky Horror Show theme for Halloween, wasting time that I could have spent in NYC with Amanda, Courtney, Julie, Hittenmark, Matero, etc & of course as soon as I publish it, the site's down so no one could fucking see it. However, I'm sharing this with all of you because I found it hysterical & nearly peed my pants when I saw it (don't you just love redundency?) & have no other way of sharing it with people til the site's back up. Have fun: Have Yourself a Merry Lohan Christmas!

Even Men Can't Resist Cashmere

It's time for another edition of "This only happens to Colleen!" (See: Even Old Women... or the naked old dude pissing in the ocean at Smith's Point in "Maybe a Bright Sandy Beach..."). In today's segment:

I'm at work at Ann Taylor & some old JAPs are asking me about cardigan sets. Old JAP Broad #1 is holding up a pink one, asking me if there are any more shells (the tank top/vest that one wears under a cardigan. I own 4, you've probably seen me wearing them at one point, as I tend to dress like a 35-year-old Republican woman whenever the temperature goes below 78 degrees). ANYWAY, I'm trying to tell her that we got new, wool ones in for the winter & that the only silk/cotton blend ones we have were already out (yeah, it's sort of disgusting that I actually know shit like that now). Old JAP Broad #2 is apparently arguing with me, going forcefully & oh-so-politely, "NO!! Do you have any more of these tank tops?"

Again, I tell her I do not & gesture to the pink pile, dutifully offering to help her find a size. Again, Old JAP Broads start arguing with me. Finally, Old JAP Broad #1, who's still holding a pink cardigan, snaps at me with punctuated syllables for the poor, socially unequal shopgirl, "NO. Do. You. Have. Any. Of. THIS. Color?" Old JAP Broad #2 finally holds up a teal cardigan.

Oh. GEEZ lady, why didn't you fucking say so in the FIRST PLACE, instead of waving the fucking pink one in my face? So I'm taken aback by her tone/sentence structure & momentarily forget that I am merely a humble employee & she the always-right-costumer. I start to snap back, going tone-for-tone with her.

"Oh. Sorry. My. Mistake. No. We. Don't."

Then I snap back to reality - oh there goes gravity - & calmly add, "I got confused, haha, oops!" Bitch must've gotten the message, though, cause her attitude immediately changed. Then they quizzed me about my size (why the hell do people never believe me when I tell them I'm a small or size 2 in our tops & a size 4 in our pants? I didn't try to insist to them that they couldn't possibly be mediums, as they kept insisting that I couldn't possibly be a small...)

So yeah. That's a lovely story, but it's not quite at "This only happens to Colleen!" level yet. Here's the next part:

I go into the back room to chill for a second following this encounter. Two colleagues, Lisa & Ryan (no, Jenna, Kelly & Kalyn, not hot Ryan, unfortch), are on break. I relate to them what just happened and we joke about it. Then I move towards the door & say, "Well, I'm goin' to wordrobing so I can go avoid a bitch or else I'm-a cut her! PEACE." I open the door & step out.

No sooner have these words left my mouth when I look up and see some guy trying on our lovely green cashmere sweater.

I don't even turn around. I walk backwards through the door, into the break room & exclaim, "WHAT IS THIS, THE FUCKING TWILIGHT ZONE?!" I begin laughing so hard I can barely get out the words, "Guy. Zone 5. Green cashmere. Trying on." Ryan's confused because he can't speak crazy girl, but Lisa gets the gist, pushes past Ryan & RUNS to see. Of course by now homey's got it off. My manager, Bill, comes over to see why I'm collapsed in a fit of laughter & tears on the floor. I finally get my act together & go back out, but have to walk completely around that area where he's standing so that I don't start laughing at him.

After a further look at the sweater that he's holding, I can't tell if it was ours or not (perhaps he just had a man's version of a green cashmere sweater that he was taking off?) If it is and I saw what I think I saw, it's definitely one of those "This only happens to Colleen!" moments.

At least it wasn't as gross as the naked old dude peeing at Smith's Point.

Even Old Women Talk About Sex

I know I complain a lot about still being stuck at Ann Taylor 8 days a week, but as with anything you do all the time, it has its moments. Anyway, there's this older woman, Joan, who works there. She's...a character. She's about 70 & probably should've retired like 10 years ago for various reasons/behavior, but she's harmless. She lost her husband in a car crash a few years ago so she still works so she has something to do. This is somewhat relevant back story for what I'm going to tell you.

So I was in the dressing room the second half of the day & it got quiet in there. So, being me, I decided to start making a list of stuff I have to get done tonight, tomorrow, before I die. Joan's in there with me & tells me that she loves to make lists too. Everyone always teased her about doing so. One day, her friend found one of her lists & added to the bottom: "#12. Screw husband."

Joan: "And I didn't forget to do THAT!"

Keep in mind this is a 70-year-old woman telling me this.

I start hysterically laughing (naturally I'm already plotting who I'm going to do this too...). Then she goes, "I should add the same thing to YOUR list!"

70-year-old woman.

Me: "...except I don't have a husband!"

Joan: "Well then, I'll just have to write 'Screw SOMEONE!'"

Let me break this down: The 70-year-old woman that I work with basically told me that I need to get laid. Naturally, I retold this story to the other broads at work. Seriously, little Tara, Barbara & I could not breathe we were laughing so hard.

Ok, I'm off to Matero's to go watch the Mets game with him & Ian-face. Yay 4th night of munchkins, Domino's & baseball this week!

Soooo who's havin' a Halloween party?

I just finished day 6 out of an 8 day work stretch. I know there are a lot worse jobs out there, but I'm just so sick & tired of being there and not having a real job that I'm just, "Aaaaahhhh!!" I'm going up to Marist again this weekend to see And Then There Were None, MCCTA's first show this season. But I'm only going for the night, since I'm gonna have to work again all week & I REALLY want to sit at home, even if it's for half a day.

Here's the part where I get a little tiny bit annoyingly reflective: I realized what's so unnerving about being home. There's a whole other life/world that's still going on at Marist & I'm not a part of it anymore. It seems like the world's at that summertime standstill, when you take a time out from everything & then life resumes again in Sept, right where you left off. Because I don't have a real job yet (trust me, I've been looking), all I'm doing is working like crazy at Ann Taylor, but it doesn't seem like the world is moving. Yet it's going so quickly for seemingly everyone else, especially those at Marist. It's weird to go back or to just know that there's still classes, board meetings, rehearsals, papers, production meetings, etc. all happening & I'M NOT A PART OF IT. It's just...unnerving because I'm used to being involved & a part of everything. It's a step backwards, really; I'm stuck in Ridge & feel trapped, especially cause my friends from home are busy working (Ian) or living in NYC (Golio, Claudio, Frankie, Bobby) or Hartford (Brian). I still talk to them & Golio's out most weekends; I see Amanda, Matero & Julia a lot too, so it's not so terrible, but I miss everyone & the community I built there a lot. I still talk to Randy, Sarah, Phil, Amanda G, Eddie & Anthony a lot & keep in touch with Angrisani (who's so awesome he got us, Eddie Storey & Sabella season tickets to the Yankees next year!), Rachel, Annie, Steph, Crissy, Risa, Sabella, Josh-i mean-G-Force, etc. so I'm lucky. I miss everyone else though that I haven't talked to or seen in a while.

Onto the most important thing. Someone throw a Halloween party! I got invited to some party in Mt. Sinai or Miller Place or somewhere in that vicinity by some people from work, but let's face it - Eddie & I need to try to one-up last year's costume. I realize that NOTHING will EVER be as amazing as our turn as Britney & K-Fed but I love Halloween. I'd have one if I weren't on LI, since no one would actually be able to come, haha. So now I'm basically commanding someone to throw a Halloween party! K, thanks! :)

Last Wed, there was a staged reading of Softly Sara Falls, the play that I produced for ETG junior year. It's an original, unpublished script & MCCTA's production of it was its world-premiere. It's an awesome, amazing play. Heather Liebal (who played Sara & totally deserved to win the Best Actress award at Banquet) found out about it & organized for all of us involved to go. Everyone came but Randy (busy being a Jersey redneck), Jeff (real job in RI), Natalie & Joey (night classes). It was SO cool. Here's a picture of some of us waiting for it to start:

Donkey Show!

yesterday i found out that someone that i work with has actually seen a real, live donkey show. i then found out a lot more about donkey anatomy than i've ever cared to know. repulsing, yet i couldn't stop listening.

according to previously mentioned firsthand witness, who was taking a trip to Mexico 9 years ago with her sister and a couple friends, it brings on a whole new meaning to "hung like a horse." I have NO idea how much exaggeration was going on - nor do I care to find out firsthand - so I'm just going to share with you what I was told. Two feet. Two fucking feet. That's A LOT of donkey penis. Where the hell does a donkey keep that thing when it's not aroused?

I was going to try to find a video of a donkey show but then I realized that would mean that I would have to at some point see the video and I don't want to do that to myself. So instead, I'm gonna just do one better and post the Donkey Show clip from Clerks 2. Have fun.