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Friday, May 16, 2008

just a little story about a clydesdale...

In college, I went to a club in San Francisco with my roomie, Nicole. In comparison, I am noticeably taller than most women. I was taken when a homeless gentleman, with no teeth, but I digress, hollered at me as we walked by, "Dammmmmmmmn gurl! You's a Clyyyyydesssdale!" I don't think he was hitting on me. I think he was drunk. It's a story I tell to illustrates a simple truth: I, like my mother, attract the odd ducks. 

My co-workers also liked this story, along with the trivia facts about Clydesdales that I gave them after lunch. I couldn't be a pony, or even a horse (which is still a large animal). I had to be a Clydesdale. This is one of my top 10 most memorably awkward moments. My dad likes to bring it up in large groups and chuckle about it. He also likes to talk about the time I almost go beat up at summer school by a group of sort girls who said, "You a f-ing giant!" I recently encouraged my father to tell my mom, "Damn momma, you lookin' deeeelicious!" after a teenager said it to me, in public, like it was a compliment. Ha! Pops told me it wasn't quite his style.

Oooohhhh... good times. 



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