Archive for August, 2009

Bucket List Part I

August 27, 2009

Maybe I’m not that adventurous lame.

But I’ve always wanted to pay for one movie and sneak into a 2nd (or 3rd!). How wild, right? Yep it’s on my bucket list (or was) .

So guess I missed the boat when I was 12, my friend fox even asked me “Did you go to the 7th grade?”.

Yes, yes I did. I probably spent ever weekend of middle school at the Harborlight mall. Yes they tore down part of my childhood to put up a Lowe’s in the mall’s place, but nonetheless I paid to see Armageddon, Patch Adams, Austin Powers, Big Daddy and Titanic (3x, I’ll never let go).

The only thing I ever ‘snuck’ into was the Blair Witch Project. But I at least had someone buy the ticket!

But here I am, age 23 and I’ve done it!
I was with my friend canole at the Boston Common theater. We were running late and missed the 7:30 of The Time Traveler’s Wife so opted for The Ugly Truth. As we headed for the ticket counter, Canole asked how much I thought it costs “oh probably 9 bucks”.
Canole: One for The Ugly Truth please.
Cashier: Eleven Dollars Please.
My Inner Monologue: ELEVEN?!?!?!?!
Me: One for The Ugly Truth.
Cashier: Eleven Dollars.
Me (aloud): You know, I could get two $5 foot longs at subway and a pack of gum for that much.

Cashier: No response.

As we walked away we thought of other things you could get with $11 dollars:

A six pack and two big gulps
A Cab from my apt to downtown
2 On Demand Movies
3 Miller Lites @ the Beer Garden
OR
11 double cheeseburgers from McDonald’s $1 menu
We sat in our seats and pondered over what we got for our $11 and even before the movie began we were dissatisfied. Well! Don’t ya know it after a bit of googling (via blackberry) The Time Traveler’s Wife began JUST as The Ugly Truth ended.

PERFECT. Let’s do it.

So after laughing at crude and disgusting jokes for 96 minutes and having the epiphany that if Katherine Heigl can be a crazy cat lady who is hot and still gets the guy that I can too(!) We headed over to our second flick to discover that we would never want to marry a husband that time traveled. Thank G I figured that out!
Until Next Time,
Peace.Love.Stick it to the Man.
Xoxo
Popprincess

Which of these describes you?

August 24, 2009

As you read in Moose & Sticky Togetha 4Eva my sister, Moose, got engaged. We’re all quite excited even though we may have a bridezilla AND groomzilla (for the first time in the history of weddings) Kidding! Sort of. The planning is already underway and my co-maid of honor obligatory duties have already begun.


After scoping out a few venues with the happy couple, I sat with Moose as she perused theknot.com She read aloud what some of my, along with co-maid of honor Beef’s, wedding day duties would be :


“help the bride get dressed, taking care to frequently remind her that she looks beautiful”

Seriously? I’ve got to get on this website. So I logged myself right onto theknot.com and clicked ‘join free’.

They had a nice little profile which I began to fill out…

So I filled out my name, e-mail etc. and begin to answer questions like:

You are the… maid of honor (nice!)

Which of these describes you? I’m thinking, generous? perky? positive?

No no…the following were my options:

playing the field

in a relationship

about to be engaged

engaged

married!

First off, who the hell knows they are about to be engaged? If you’re a woman, you’re probably lying to yourself. You have been waiting FOREVER to be engaged so you just want to feel a little better about yourself/keep a tiny speck of hope alive. If you are a dude registering for this website this is true, you probably know you’re ‘about to be engaged’. But maybe you should re-think marrying a woman if you’re on the knot excited about picking out bouquet colors. Hit up ESPN.com now please.

But back to me, PLAYING THE FIELD? Albeit completely and utterly true, couldn’t they have just put ‘dating’, ‘casually dating’, or ‘looking for love’ as an option as well?

No no, they throw that phrasing in and then have the complete 180 right in our face: playing the field vs. married! that’s right, married, exclamation point (!). That’s just insult to injury people.

I closed the computer before I completely regressed…but the following day I watched two episodes of full house and both HSM1 & 2.

Grow up Peter Pan, Count Chocula you say? No thanks, not yet.

12 Most Annoying Types of Facebookers

August 20, 2009

(CNN) — Facebook, for better or worse, is like being at a big party with all your friends, family, acquaintances and co-workers.

Facebook can be a great tool, and an occasional annoyance. What kind of Facebooker are you?

There are lots of fun, interesting people you’re happy to talk to when they stroll up. Then there are the other people, the ones who make you cringe when you see them coming. This article is about those people.

Sure, Facebook can be a great tool for keeping up with folks who are important to you. Take the status update, the 160-character message that users post in response to the question, “What’s on your mind?” An artful, witty or newsy status update is a pleasure — a real-time, tiny window into a friend’s life.

But far more posts read like naval-gazing diary entries, or worse, spam. A recent study categorized 40 percent of Twitter tweets as “pointless babble,” and it wouldn’t be surprising if updates on Facebook, still a fast-growing social network, break down in a similar way. Take a CNN quiz: What kind of Facebooker are you? »

Combine dull status updates with shameless self-promoters, “friend-padders” and that friend of a friend who sends you quizzes every day, and Facebook becomes a daily reminder of why some people can get on your nerves.

Here are 12 of the most annoying types of Facebook users:

The Let-Me-Tell-You-Every-Detail-of-My-Day Bore. “I’m waking up.” “I had Wheaties for breakfast.” “I’m bored at work.” “I’m stuck in traffic.” You’re kidding! How fascinating! No moment is too mundane for some people to broadcast unsolicited to the world. Just because you have 432 Facebook friends doesn’t mean we all want to know when you’re waiting for the bus.

The Self-Promoter. OK, so we’ve probably all posted at least once about some achievement. And sure, maybe your friends really do want to read the fascinating article you wrote about beet farming. But when almost EVERY update is a link to your blog, your poetry reading, your 10k results or your art show, you sound like a bragger or a self-centered careerist.

The Friend-Padder. The average Facebook user has 120 friends on the site. Schmoozers and social butterflies — you know, the ones who make lifelong pals on the subway — might reasonably have 300 or 400. But 1,000 “friends?” Unless you’re George Clooney or just won the lottery, no one has that many. That’s just showing off.

The Town Crier. “Michael Jackson is dead!!!” You heard it from me first! Me, and the 213,000 other people who all saw it on TMZ. These Matt Drudge wannabes are the reason many of us learn of breaking news not from TV or news sites but from online social networks. In their rush to trumpet the news, these people also spread rumors, half-truths and innuendo. No, Jeff Goldblum did not plunge to his death from a New Zealand cliff.

The TMIer. “Brad is heading to Walgreens to buy something for these pesky hemorrhoids.” Boundaries of privacy and decorum don’t seem to exist for these too-much-information updaters, who unabashedly offer up details about their sex lives, marital troubles and bodily functions. Thanks for sharing.

The Bad Grammarian. “So sad about Fara Fauset but Im so gladd its friday yippe”. Yes, I know the punctuation rules are different in the digital world. And, no, no one likes a spelling-Nazi schoolmarm. But you sound like a moron.

The Sympathy-Baiter. “Barbara is feeling sad today.” “Man, am I glad that’s over.” “Jim could really use some good news about now.” Like anglers hunting for fish, these sad sacks cast out their hooks — baited with vague tales of woe — in the hopes of landing concerned responses. Genuine bad news is one thing, but these manipulative posts are just pleas for attention.

The Lurker. The Peeping Toms of Facebook, these voyeurs are too cautious, or maybe too lazy, to update their status or write on your wall. But once in a while, you’ll be talking to them and they’ll mention something you posted, so you know they’re on your page, hiding in the shadows. It’s just a little creepy.

The Crank. These curmudgeons, like the trolls who spew hate in blog comments, never met something they couldn’t complain about. “Carl isn’t really that impressed with idiots who don’t realize how idiotic they are.” [Actual status update.] Keep spreading the love.

The Paparazzo. Ever visit your Facebook page and discover that someone’s posted a photo of you from last weekend’s party — a photo you didn’t authorize and haven’t even seen? You’d really rather not have to explain to your mom why you were leering like a drunken hyena and French-kissing a bottle of Jagermeister.

The Maddening Obscurist. “If not now then when?” “You’ll see…” “Grist for the mill.” “John is, small world.” “Dave thought he was immune, but no. No, he is not.” [Actual status updates, all.] Sorry, but you’re not being mysterious — just nonsensical.

The Chronic Inviter. “Support my cause. Sign my petition. Play Mafia Wars with me. Which ‘Star Trek’ character are you? Here are the ‘Top 5 cars I have personally owned.’ Here are ’25 Things About Me.’ Here’s a drink. What drink are you? We’re related! I took the ‘What President Are You?’ quiz and found out I’m Millard Fillmore! What president are you?”

You probably mean well, but stop. Just stop. I don’t care what president I am — can’t we simply be friends? Now excuse me while I go post the link to this story on my Facebook page.

See Also: Facebook Etiquette

Random Thoughts for the Everyday Person Part II

August 19, 2009

Note: Unfortunately I can’t take credit for writing these. If only I was this witty, I would quit my job and write a book.

I wish Google Maps had an “Avoid Ghetto” routing option.

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can
think about is that I can’t wait for them to finish so that I can tell
my own story that’s not only better, but also more directly involves
me.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you’re wrong.

I don’t understand the purpose of the line, “I don’t need to drink to have fun.” Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they’ve invented the lighter?

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you’re going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you’re crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

That’s enough, Nickelback.

I totally take back all those times I didn’t want to nap when I was younger.

The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase “Regards” again.

Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn’t work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards
or FAQ’s. We just figured it out. Today’s kids are soft.

There is a great need for sarcasm font.

Sometimes, I’ll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the f *** was going on when I first saw it.

I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I’ll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone’s laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I’m still the only one who really, really gets it.

The other night I hit a new low at an open bar. I had already hopped on highway blackout when, inevitably I had to find a bathroom. Eventually I decided it was probably on the other side of the bar so I tried to walk over there, but ran into a guy coming the other way. We played that, Both go left, Both go right game to no avail, so I finally put out my hand to guide myself past and that’s is when I realized, yup, that’s a mirror I just tried to walk through. And the
guy on the other side is me. Even cats can re cognize their own image.

How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

I think part of a best friend’s job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.

A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.

Was learning cursive really necessary?

Lol has gone from meaning, “laugh out loud” to “I have nothing else to say”.

I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.

My brother’s Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, “Cuz we beat you, and you hate us.” Classy, bro.

Whenever someone says “I’m not book smart, but I’m street smart”, all I hear is “I’m not real smart, but I’m imaginary smart”.

How many times is it appropriate to say “What?” before you just nod and smile because you still didn’t hear what they said?

I love the sense of camaraderie when a n entire line of cars teams up to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!

Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using ‘as in’ examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss’s last name to an attorney and said “Yes that’s G as in…(10 second lapse)..ummm…Goonies”

What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it…thanks Mario Kart.

MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

I would like to officially coin the phrase ‘catching the swine flu’ to be used as a way to make fun of a friend for hooking up with an
overweight woman. Example: “Dave caught the swine flu last night.”

I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at least kind of tired.

Bad decisions make good stories

Whenever I’m Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don’t mind if I do!

Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?

If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would
probably just be completely invisible.

Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I’m from, this shouldn’t be a problem….

You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you’ve made up your mind that you just aren’t doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don’t want to have to restart my collection.

There’s no worse feeling than that millisecond you’re sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

I’m always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

“Do not machine wash or tumble dry” means I will never wash this ever.

I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There’s so much pressure. ‘I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren’t watching this. It’s only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the
room. Will we still be friends after this?’

While watching the Olympics, I find myself cheering equally for China and USA. No, I am not of Chinese descent, but I am fairly certain that when Chinese athletes don’t win, they are executed.

I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What’d you do after I didn’t answer? Drop the phone and run away?

I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

When I meet a new girl, I’m terrified of mentioning something she hasn’t already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.

I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it’s on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles…

As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

Sometimes I’ll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.

I keep some people’s phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

I think that if, years down the road when I’m trying to have a kid, I find out that I’m sterile, most of my disappointment will stem from the fact that I was not aware of my condition in college.

Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn’t know what do to with it.

Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, hitting the G-spot, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey – but I’d bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time
every time…

My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day “Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?” How the hell do I respond to that?

It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.

I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.

I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.

The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimate d that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There’s nothing like being made to feel like a fat bastard before dinner.

See: random thoughts for the everday person (Part I)

Popprincess vs. BC – Part I

August 14, 2009

Although I didn’t attend BC…I am , in fact, a season ticket holder. I’ve been called a ‘BC Bitch’ by my college friends friends (because they claim I’m a poser). But, with their season opener a mere 3 weeks away I thought I would reminisce a bit about my experiences on their lovely campus…

Colleeegee

While in college I lived through 2 World Series Championships, 1 Superbowl win, and endured the Pats blowing the perfect season.

But it was that first history making Red Sox World Series that probably meant the most. During significant points in history, people always like to recall exactly where they were when something happened (definitely more on this later). But nonetheless, I remember where I was, who I was with, and what happened when we headed to bean-town for the parade.

The night they won, I remember being pantsed while crowd surfing, yankees hats being set on fire, and almost puffing a cigar backwards.

I absolutely recall heading to my “Early Latin America” mid-term the following day intoxicated. As my dorky little professor handed me that dreaded blue exam book I looked up at him and said ‘Seriously?’. It didn’t matter, I thought indigenous meant tan, I still got a B-. I don’t think studying would have made an iota of difference. ( about a year or so later I found out indigenous mean: having originated in and being produced, growing, living, or occurring naturally in a particular region or environment)

Thinking back just reminds me of that trip to BC ….

Trot Trot to Boston

The twin was at BC so my friend Benn(female) and I shot down on Friday night. Our friend from home was a manager for the football team so he said he’d take us to a party.

Unbeknowst to us, we were heading to Craig Smith’s 21st Birthday Bash.

No joke.

We walked in, the lights were out the DJ was bumpin‘, someone handed us beers so we headed out to the dance floFO SHO. Dance party! We thought.

After a few minutes. The music stopped, the lights came up…security? nooo

The DJ spoke into the the microphone. He wasn’t yelling, instead, he spoke in a slow monotonous voice.

“If you’re white you need to leave”.

SILENCE.

We looked around, and realized we were, in fact, the only 4 white people in the vicinity…

“If you have no rhythm you need to leave, now”

I think I had some sort of blackout. Benn and I scurried away from the dance floor, grabbed a few beers and locked ourselves in the bathroom.

Me: We just got kicked out of Craig Smith’s Birthday party.

Benn: We’re still here.

KNOCK ON THE BATHROOM DOOR

Benn: We’re gonna get killed at Craig Smith’s Birthday party

We bombed out of there, got lost somewhere in Newton and eventually found our way back.

We rocked out at the parade that day but were glad to go back to VT (ahem, we went to the whitest school in the whitest state in America).

So, fast-forward to fall 2009. I’m gonna be back in action on campus.

I’m still just as white but I’ve had 5 years to work on my moves(ew, I’m old). So watch out Justin Jarvis my 23 year old self is hitting your birthday next.

S-A-T-U-R..D-A-Y…SATURDAY

August 12, 2009

Countryfest is a glorified high school reunion.

Maybe girls in cowboy boots and hats are annoying.
Facebook Albums named “Sit right here and have another beer in Foxborough” are atrocious.

You should be at the beach on a 90 degree day in August.

I really don’t care.

I haven’t been in 2 years.
I love day drinking.
I enjoy country music.
I love Sugarland.
I now own a pair of jorts.
I will be drinking a keg on a party bus.
I can’t wait for Saturday.

Moose & Sticky 2Getha 4 Eva

August 7, 2009

Disclaimer: This is, and will be, one of the only ‘based on true events’ post in Say Whaaat? history. Some details could not be recovered after much investigation. Say Whaaaat? is and always will be a non-fiction blog

Here’s how the story goes:

We wasted the good surprise on you!

The last surprise Stick gave to his lovely lady, Moose, was on her birthday just about a month ago…

He presented her with a card and picture of a Bernese Mountain Dog. Let’s just say he didn’t get his desired or expected reaction. I won’t give you the complete play by play, but upon googling this breed she came up with the following information:

Shedding: High

Size: Large-Giant

One word: waterworks.

I believe she actually referred to the puppy as “responsibility in an envelope”…

They later agreed a chocolate lab would be a happy medium…

They don’t know we know…

So, remember that Friends episode, ‘The one where everyone finds out’ ? I’d like to think that Beef, my twin, and I had a sort of had an inkling, a sixth sense, if you will, about the engagement… You know?

Like Monica said: “They don’t know that we know they know we know.” but we knew. Okay, well not the time or place, but there we were just waiting ever so patiently for the news… you could chalk it up to a ‘twin thing’ or ‘sisterly intuition’. Maybe it was just our problem solving abilities (see 2 posts back, we rocked Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?)…anyhooo…

The Plan

Sticky told us a mere 2 days before the big day. He would propose at home, but needed us in on the plan so we could get all her friends and the fam to a bar to surprise her with a celebration right after. Sticky was nervous, and rightfully so.

I assured Sticky that a ring can neither bark nor shed…

Sticky told Moose he had an some weekend plans. They’d be heading tot he Sox/Yankees Game on Friday (Thank G this was just a ploy – 15 innings only to LOSE 2-0…miz)

On the eve of the big day, not knowing everyone else but her was in the know, she spoke with Biz:

Moose: I feel like something weird’s gonna happen this weekend

Biz: Why?

Moose: Well, Sticky knows I don’t like actually like baseball. I only hot dogs and beer, yet he’s still taking me all the way to New York for a game. What if…

Biz: Moose, he’s not going to propose to you in a Red Sox shirt. Or is he?

cruel Biz, now you’re just being cruel

Moose: I hope he knows me better than that.

DUH. he does.

But how will he get her to the bar you ask? He told her to get ready, since they were meeting friends for ‘free drinks’ he had mysteriously won. She obliged.

Little did she know that Sticky wanted to take things to the next level. He wanted to be more than a roommate, landlord, car leasing company, maid, and personal chef.

He wanted to be her wife her to be his wife.

The Proposal [only based on facts]

Sticky: Moose I have a surprise for you…

Moose: okay

Stick presents Moose with Flowers

Sticky: I have another surprise

Sticky exits and heads to the kitchen to grab a box full ‘o bling…

THE EMOTIONAL BLACKOUT OCCURS.

Only bits and peices of this section of the story are reliable from here on out. What I’ve presented below is the best interpretation I can get based on the accounts from both parties:

Sticky holds out the box with no words.

Moose grab’s sticky’s arm.

Moose opens the box.

Moose sees the ring sparkling right in her face.

She whispers/shouts/mouths inaudibly ‘give me that!’ OR ‘mine!’

She rips the ring from the box and puts the ring on her own finger.

Sticky: “Will You Marry Me?”

Moose: Obvi!

Okay, well maybe she didn’t say give me that, and she most certainly didn’t respond “obvi” but in my own little world she did. Perhaps she prodded “do I have to put it on myself?” and P placed it on her lil’ finger, and said ‘Will you marry me?’ and she said hell yeaaa son yes. But I like my version better.

Either way, Sticky sent the crowd waiting at the bar a text saying: “She’s signed on for a fulltime contract”.

CONGRATULATIONSSS!!!

After only a bit of waiting, Moose and Sticky rounded the corner of the escalator…

CONGRATULATIONSS!!! [It was more of like a crowd shouting: AYYYYYYY! heyyyyy! there they are!!!!]

Now Moose thought, that after all the weddings she’d been to she didn’t have ‘bride tears’ in her. But alas, she did and got a bit emosh (and may or may not have pitted out her dress). But who cares, it’s her day…

After 4.5 minutes at the bar, Moose gave a hug or two and then bluntly stated that she was still “empty handed”. The bride to be was drinkless. I ever-so-kindly gave her my own, but I would say that her hand was not by any means empty. Like a young kid on global guts, she sure got a peice of the rock.

So without further adue:

To the happy couple!

Mazel tov!

p.s. Sticky is convinced fiance means roommate, in french.

Phobia-Shmobia Part II

August 5, 2009

Seriously if this isn’t a testament to my equinaphobia, i don’t know what is.

Click here for the video, courtesy of TMZ.com

Like I thought I could avoid horses for the rest of my life.
But apparently, I could be innocently driving down the highway and have a horse total my porcsha. WTF.

In related stories per TMZ

Poor doggy!! A 12-year-old stallion chased after a Belgian shepherd in Frankfurt.

Don’t care how beautiful you think they are. Still scare the bajesus out of me.

Phobia-Shmobia Part I