The Vagina Monologue

It’s Christmas in July, bitches! I was recently reminiscing about a situation that broke out at Christmas, so I wanted to get it on here!

The co-president of the company I work for decided to have our office Christmas party at his home. He also decided to combine the office party with his neighborhood party, with his friends party, with his Pampered Chef frequent buyers party, with his Katherine Zeta Jones’ fan club party… you get the idea. There was a shit-ton of people in this place and catered meatballs as far as the eye could see. It was the first time I had ever been to his home. It was very pretty and he had an oil painting of a monkey dressed as a king and Jordan almonds, so I decided to stick around. I found myself settling in with my office peeps outside near the pool – where oddly, there was a glass coffee table, ya know, outside, next to the pool. That hardly seems dangerous at all. It was REALLY thick glass but was totally see-through, as glass tends to be. Being dark out, the table was a real optical illusion, because it just seemed like there was a short pedestal without five feet of glass surrounding it – sitting between the pool and the chairs. After seeing people walk into it a few times we started betting on who was going to hit their shins on the table as the various drunken party goers walked by.

We were having a grand time, yulkin it up and carrying on laughing at nothing when two random chicks walk up and sit with our group. One looked like Megan Fox, if you squinted a little, and the other like someone named Gita or Yergin or something Swedish.

Gita : “OMG I love your bag” Megan: “OMG I love YOUR bag.”

Anyhoo, these girls were both dressed like they were definitely going out to find some big ol’ wieners after this party. They were also… how shall I say this delicately; a few skittles short of a rainbow. Regardless, we all welcomed them to join in the conversation. We spent the next hour explaining everything we were talking about, three to fifteen times before they would get the joke or understand what we were saying. It got REAL awkward at several points during the conversation, but luckily we were the only ones to notice so they never got uncomfortable. The hoochduo eventually went for a smoke. They stumbled back about twenty minutes later (clearly drunk which made communicating even more interesting) and were trying to re-situate themselves. They kept bumping into the glass coffee table with the back of their calves, but didn’t seem to notice what was happening. It was at this point that my lovah, my friend, Penny and I all made it a point to tell them the glass table was right next to them, and warned them to be careful so they didn’t hurt themselves. Thirty minutes later, the craziest thing to have ever happened to me at a party, happened.

Hoochduo decides they want another cigarette. The Megan Fox one decides to walk through the table. Like, she walked forward and when her shins were stopped by the table, she continued to try and push her leg through. As if her leg was the problem, not the plate glass top. She pushed once, then pushed again, then began to wobble on her stilettos from the resistance. Then the bitch went down like a sack of potatoes but managed to roll around and flail very ungracefully mid-flight. Which made NO effing sense, and even though we were witnessing it everyone was like “OH NO…UH.. okay she just totally spun around for no reason…”

Megan’s Flight pattern, overlay on Coach Hines’ youtube – click to view

Anyways, her tiny ass body twirled onto the table and DEMOLISHED it. Plate glass, mullafugga! DEMOLISHED! I was like is this bitch the female Wolverine or some shit?!

Hai gurl!

Fox laid totally still and we all held our breath because we feared she was dead. After what seemed like forever, she began to yell about her cigarettes and started swearing pretty extensively. We all clammer around to try to get her up off the shattered table without her cutting herself into a million pieces, but the bitch was wiggling like a mullafugga and just pushes her self up, with only the tiniest scratch on her wrist. I think everyone was shell shocked about her not being dead, because it was right about then that I noticed something was amiss about Mrs. Fox. It was her fully exposed vagina. That’s right, total muffin bomb. Like, her spandex tube skirt was so short – that it had totally ridden up and I’ll be darned if the bitch wasn’t wearing a stitch of anything to cover her lady garden. NOTHING. I quickly thought to myself: “Oh those are weird panties… waitaminute… is that… her? Vagina? HOLY SHITTHAT’SHERVAGINA.” My inner monologue continued. I thought, “Man I gotta tell this girl! But I’m too far away to do anything… aaagh, someone help her! ” but what came out of my mouth in this surge of panic was just;

“VAGINA!!!!!!!!!!! VAGINAAAA!!!! WATCH OUT! VAGINAAAAAAA!!!” *Points* *Drops Jaw* *Points*

I yelled it in my most deepest and manliest of voices. In fact, it was so growly that it made me start coughing. I kept pointing while I almost suffocated from the coughing attack. Penny, standing right next to Megan, quickly understood what I was saying. Penny reached over, grabbed Megan’s micro mini and gave it a tug so hard that it looked like she was shaking out a sheet. Megan came collapsing down again from the impact like she was one of those plastic camping cups that folds down into itself. Oh LAWD! It was a sight. The look on Megan’s face was priceless because it was like “GAWD DAMN! I ALMOST KILLED MYSELF AND NOW YOU’RE TRYING TO STEAL MY TUBE TOP?!”

Fox eventually made it to the bathroom for a bandaid and then quickly left the party.

Fun facts: I later learned that the Gita girl was who knew my boss (hence her invitation to the party, not that he was being stingy with the invites or anything) – he had bought a bunch of furniture from the store she works at and she gave him a good deal. Ironically, Gita had sold him the table that was destroyed by Mount Saint Megan. Megan was Gita’s friend. Megan’s vagina looked like a peppered mountain top that hadn’t seen rain in years. Never forget.

Never Forget

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