Friday, January 28, 2011

I'll Follow You Until You Love Me.. Papa... Paparazzi

Lee: So this guy at work sent me some creepy pictures of you.

Me: Excuse me?

Lee: Yeah, I got this email with weird pictures of you.

Me: Pictures of me doing what exactly?

Lee: I don't know. They are pretty close up though.

Me: Oh, well that's great.

Lee: Yeah, I think they're from the Christmas party.

Me: Hmm... now that you mention it... there was some guy who kept taking pictures of me. I tried to ignore it.


Lee forwarded the pictures to me... and they are everything he said they would be.

Creepy. Weird. And far too close up for my liking.

Four completely random pictures, which perfectly illustrate my emotions of the day.

First we have what I call, "Realization..."

(So... we are going to sit here for 5 hours and watch a talent show?)

... then, "Confusion..."

(Like, I can't believe this is happening - or - I can't believe there is a stage full of Filipino cowboys attempting a line dance to a Shania Twain song...)

... "Hope..."
(As in, I hope this guy can actually sing because the last guy made my ears bleed...)

... and of course my personal favorite...
"Extreme Irritation..."

(You would think it would be common knowledge that microphones amplify your voice... and therefore, screaming is not necessary while in use.)

Oh, the number of times this look crosses my face per day.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Let's Welcome to the World LeeMuse Jr.

I know what you're thinking... and no.

No, I did not have a baby.

No, I am not one of those women that didn't know they were pregnant, until they find a baby in the bottom of the toilet.

And no, I would never name my child Lee Muse Jr.

(Not that it's a bad name, it's a great name. But I am not a "Jr." type person.... We are vain... but we aren't that vain. Like George Foreman... I mean really, no normal person names all their children George. That's just nonsense. Children should have their own names, that way it's easier for them to distinguish which one of them you're yelling at. Anyway... I digress...)

So you can imagine my surprise when Lee came home a few months ago and told me that a baby was just born and his name was Lee Muse, because I sure as shit didn't have one so he had some serious "splainin'" to do!


Lee: So... apparently a guy from work, and his wife just had a baby.

Me: Really? Shocking...

Lee: Yeah... well, he named the baby Leemuse.

Me: Ha! Excuse me?

Lee: Yeah, he named the baby Leemuse. I mean, I can't be sure, because I don't even know who this guy is, but one of the other guys at work told me about it. He said that this guy named his new baby Leemuse, after me.

Me: hahahahahahaha. There are no words for this! hahahahahaha!!!

Lee: I know!

Me: So what you're telling me is... hahaha! A guy you don't know, a guy you've never really met.... hahahaha! Named his child after you... his child?!? Why?!?! hahahahahahaha!

Lee: I don't know!

Me: hahahaha! Well, do you think he knows that your name is Lee Muse, not Leemuse. I mean he knows it's not all one name right.... hahahahahaha!


I found this to be highly amusing! But of course there was no real proof, so as hilarious as it was we weren't completely sure if it was true.

Then there was a miracle... and it came in the form of a Facebook friend request.

A friend request from Leemuse's daddy. Hallelujah!

The stalking commenced... Leemuse officially existed.

Please see official Facebook proof below...
(Exhibit A)

(Note: Middle name is Bob. Not really much of a Filipino name. I've met, Dodongs, Jollys, Nolis, but never a Bob. This kid is one of a kind.)

So there you have it.
The one and only "Leemuse Jr."
I still haven't decided if Lee should be honored or terrified, either way there is another Lee Muse on the planet... and here I thought the world could only handle one.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Our Australian Walk-a-bout: Part 3 - Sydney

I'm finally finishing up the Australian posts... Tasmania was our favorite part of the trip, and after writing about it I lost all inspiration for part three. Don't get me wrong, we loved Sydney... there just wasn't much that was blog worthy, and at this point it just feels like I'm writing a really bad "threequel."

So... It's back to the notes.

First day in Sydney...

Ha! Life size statue of legos?... Lee's going to get excited in 3...2...

Lee: Legos! I love legos!!

Me: Ha... yep! Do you want me to take your picture?

Lee: Yeeesss!!

I took this super creepy picture of Lee...

It looks like the Opera house isn't even real... like it's some phony back drop. It really freaks me out. Lee calls it the Vanna White picture.

New Years Eve

10:30 am - Get in line for a spot in the harbor to see the fireworks

12:30 pm - Still in line...

A sky writer writes a marriage proposal...
It took at least 15 minutes to get his far... (For a long time it said, "Marry Me B," this got people guessing out loud. Beth...? Bitch...? Yes, bitch. Very romantic.)

Then he started to write the rest... I can't think of any names that start with Beh... I think he messed it up.

Moral of the story... never use a sky writer to propose. It took forever, and the "marry me" part was gone by the time he finished her name. Very anticlimactic.

1:30 pm - We finally get inside the park and find a spot. And we wait... Only 10 1/2 hours to go.

I'm somewhere in that picture... it's very Where's Waldo...

For the next seven hours we take turns sitting in the shade, sleeping, applying sun screen, reading and walking around the park to look at all the people.

8:00 pm - The bats come out. Huge bats. I narrowly escape an air missile. A poop missile. Bat poop.

Me: Hmmm... what is that? That looks like chocolate. A chocolate chip? Maybe. I like chocolate chips. Hmmm... ( I touch it with my finger.) Eww.. a melted chocolate chip? But melted or not they are still delicious. Wait... we didn't have any chocolate chips. OMG! That's poop! I almost ate poop!


Later we got herded into a photo shoot with a bunch of drunken Aussies. They claimed to want a picture with everyone in Sydney. They even tried to convince a quite elderly asian man, (who I'm pretty sure didn't speak much english,) to take pictures with them. He kept trying to escape to find his family, but the crazy photographer dressed in beer mug shaped glasses and a king's cape was adamant about keeping him in the photo.

Crazy King Aussie: Sir, Please. Get in the photo! Sir, get in the photo please, just one photo.

Old Man: But... (He points in another direction,) But...

Crazy King Aussie: Sir, just one photo. Just one photo sir. Now, smile. Can you give us a little wave. A little wave for the photo.

This went on for about 5 minutes before the poor man slipped away in the crowd.

Somewhere... on someone's Facebook page... there is a picture of about ten drunk Australians dressed in boas, crowns, beer shaped glasses and capes, me and Lee, and one terrified old man.
A classic New Year's Eve.


12:00 am - Happy New Year!!! Best. Fireworks. Ever.

Wishing everyone a happy and healthy 2011.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Our Australian Walk-a-bout: Part 2 - Tasmania

Part 2...


On the ferry to Tasmania. I've never spent the night on a boat before and I'm much more nauseous than anticipated.

Also, seeing as how I'm not familiar with the overnight accommodations provided on such ferries...

Is it customary to have a bottle opener attached to the wall in the bathroom? Very strange.

The Tasmania portion of our vacation was a road trip, after getting off the ferry we went to pick up our rental car.

Budget Rental Car Man: These are the keys. Your car is out in the parking lot, green-car-third row, you can't miss it...

No kidding.

Pretty sure they give the highlighter colored cars to tourists who are used to driving on the right side of the road. That way, if we screw it up, the Tassies can see us and get out of the way.

Driving on the wrong side of the road wasn't something I was too worried about until I found myself in the passenger seat on the wrong side of the car. I was convinced that my anxiety wouldn't be as high if I was in the drivers seat. If I was in control. But seeing how Lee doesn't like it when I drive on any side of the road, he wanted to drive first.

I felt like I would come out of my skin for about the first ten minutes...

We made two wrong turns before we even made it out of the parking lot. (I was supposed to be in charge of navigation... I was too busy making sure he was staying on his side of the road.)

Lee: Where do I go?!

Me: I don't know! Stay left! Always stay left!

We started a "left jingle."

Leeeffft, Leeeffftt, Left, Left Left Left Leeeeffft. This was to be sung while passing cars, making turns and crossing intersections.

The first few kilometers were a stretch of "firsts..."

Lee: Ha! Made it through my first intersection.

Lee: Passed my first car.

Me: Oooo... big truck, big truck stay left! Leeeffft, Leeeffftt, Left, Left Left Left Leeeeffft.

Eventually, my nerves gradually settled. Lee's too.

Lee only messed up once... and really I'm mostly to blame.

I'll start at the beginning...

5:30 am - Our ferry arrived in Tasmania

6:00 am - We disembark. Pretty positive we were the last two people left on the boat... we are not morning people.

6:10 am - Find Budget Rental Car, read sign that says they don't open until 6:30 am.

6:11 am - Set bags down and wait for rental car man.

6:12 am - Rental car man arrives early, give us lime green car, later dubbed the "Kiwi-Mobile."

6:40 am - We finally figure out how to get out of the parking lot, and we start our three and half hour drive to St. Helens.

7:30 am - We stop at the Sidelong Lookout

8:30 am - We pass through the beautiful countryside...

10:30 am - We spontaneously take a detour to see St. Columbia Falls

On our 10 minute walk to the falls...

Lee: Are you alright?

Me: Yes. Why?

Lee: Well, I've just never seen someone so uncomfortable in nature. I mean, you're a trooper. You do it without too much complaining... but it looks painful for you.

Me: hmmph

(Unfortunately, this is true. But it's not so much the outdoors that I'm uncomfortable with... it's the creatures that lurk within nature that I'm uncomfortable with. Every time the leaves rustle or a stick breaks I whip around to make sure I will not have to defend myself against a poisonous snake, a rabid monkey, or a flesh eating troll...)

I found this stretch of the walk particularly threatening...

It looks like a blood thirsty troll might attack from behind one of these peculiarly bright green trees at any moment, it felt very Wizard of Oz-ish.

Although, the next portion was also a bit unsettling...


Please, do not take your time enjoying the walk to the falls. But instead hurry through, because there is a chance the land may slip out from beneath you, or a boulder might come crashing down the mountain and squash you like a little bug. But please, have a good time.

11:30 am - Drove past a small restaurant/pub/hotel. Stopped in a for beer... (it was 5 o'clock somewhere)... shared a beer with a pig.


A pig.

4 seconds flat... it was gone.

12:00 pm - Stop down the road for a cheese tasting. It was so delicious we couldn't resist lunch... cheeseburgers and cheese soup. Yum!

2:00 pm - Arrive in St. Helens.

2:05 pm - Check in to our family owned accommodations.

Hotel Lady: Oh my... is that real? (Pointing to my wedding ring.)

Me: Umm... yes. (Awkward...)

Hotel Lady: Well... aren't you a spoiled little girl. (Seriously?!)

Me: Well, aren't you a rude old woman. ( I didn't say that... What I really said was...)

Me: Hmm (<- Nothing. That's me biting my tongue.)

Lee: hahahaha... You have no idea.

And then I made Lee sleep outside... THE END. (I wish. But then... this is where we get back to the point of the story...)

2:15 pm - Find our room, and start getting our bags from the car.

Me: Hey, can I use the iPhone charger.

Lee: Yeah, I'll get it, it's in my black bag.

Me: Ok

Lee: Did you bring in my black bag already?

Me: No, it's in the car.

Lee: No it's not.

Me: What do you mean, "No it's not..."

Lee: It's not in the car

Me: And you didn't bring it in already?

Lee: No.

I go out to the car thinking... "What does he mean it's not in the car... of course it's in the car. He just doesn't know how to look."

I check the trunk... no bag.

I check the back seat... no bag.

I check the front seat, just in case it mysteriously had shown up there... no bag.

It's at this point when the realization hits me... and then the panic...

My jaw drops, my hands fly up over my mouth, my eyes as big as dinner plates and I just stare at Lee.

He stares back.

Eyebrows raised...

with the look that says, "See... I told you so."

It's at this point I'm remembering the, "6:11 am - Set bags down and wait for rental car man." And the fact that I put his bag down, and never picked it back up again.

What feels like an eternity later...

Me: Umm.. I think we forgot the bag.

Lee: *Still Staring*

Me: I mean, I think I forgot the bag. I think I left it. (The reason this is my problem is because he has been carrying around my bag the entire time. It's twice as big, and three times as heavy as the other bags. So he carries my bag and I carry his. Well, apparently not since I left it.)

Lee: You left it where?

Me: I guess at the rental car place back in Devonport (You know... the place we left eight hours ago.)

Note: The reason this is so annoying is because it's so predictable. Exhibit A: I lose my keys everyday... literally... Every. Day. And I don't remember I need them until I start to walk out the door, and then I'm like, "Oh shit! Keys!" Then I have to search the house for them. Some of the places I've found them include the dirty clothes hamper and the refrigerator. Exhibit B: A few weeks ago, Lee and I were supposed to play in the Christmas golf tournament at our golf club. We drive to the course, which is about 40 minutes from the house, I get up to the locker room with my shoe bag, open it and... no shoes. I had forgotten that I'd never put them away last time, so the shoes were no longer in the bag. I had to go down to the pro shop and spend almost $200 on shoes I don't really even like. Lee was not impressed. Exhibit C: I left my new favorite golf jacket at the golf course. Someone found it, and brought it to Lee. He hid it waiting for me to remember that I'd left it. I never remembered. He had to trick me into looking for it, and then finally just had to tell me that he in fact had it. These are just the first three examples that come to mind out of a very long list of examples of me being forgetful. I, of course, blame this on early onset Alzheimer's, or perhaps a brain tumor. Lee just thinks I'm an absent-minded airhead. So needless to say... this did not make me look good.

The next half hour involved locating the phone number for the ferry terminal, finding a pay phone, and praying we didn't run out of change before we finished the call.

They had put the bag back on the ferry to Melbourne, but it was supposed to come back on the next ferry in the morning. This meant we would need to drive back to Devonport in the morning, a 3 hour drive... minimum, in order to recover it. Then drive back to St. Helens, and then south about an hour to Bicheno.

Needless to say, I was grounded.

We were discussing how I could have possibly managed to forget the bag on the longest leg of our road trip, when we looked up to see a car in our lane.

Coming head on...



We swerved back in the left lane, both reciting...

Me & Lee: Leeeffft, Leeeffftt, Left, Left Left Left Leeeeffft.

The driver of the other car just shook his head. And I'm sure muttered something about stupid tourists in a bright green car.

And that was our only near death experience on the road.

The next day we spent seven hours in the car... Lee was very irritable. And by irritable, I mean, he was a total ass. (I gave him the entire car ride to be pissy. After that he had to get over it and stop being mean.)

I even got a mouth ulcer because of it. You know, those stupid little things brought on by stress? I couldn't chew right for two weeks, that was punishment enough.


Two days later we were on the Freycinet Peninsula getting ready to hike to Wineglass Bay.

Me: This may come as a surprise to you... but I've never actually been on a "real hike" before.

Lee: Reeeealllly? Shocking. I couldn't tell... it's not like your outfit doesn't give it away.

Me: What's wrong with my outfit?

Lee: You look like you're about to go to your yoga class.

Wrong... I look precious.

We spent our last night in Tasmania, in Hobart. There was a big festival in town in order to welcome the sail boats in from the Melbourne-Hobart, and Sydney-Hobart yacht races. There were several food and wine stalls, as well as live music and dancing.

Me: Hmmm... Aussies dance funny...

Lee: Haha... well, let's think about this for a sec... they are a bunch of white people... on an island. The same thing would have probably happened to us, but we've got people to keep us in check... like Soul Train.


Lee and I went on a wine tour while in Melbourne. Therefore, we are now wine connoisseurs. I now find it necessary to dissect my wine and describe it's flavors. (With the abundance of wine stalls at the festival, I had pllleeentty of opportunities to display my skills.)

Me: Mmm... this one tastes like pears...

Lee: Mmm... this one tastes like smokey asshole.

I keep notes for my blog in my iPhone. I write down stories or conversations as soon as they happen so I will better remember them when it comes time to write them down. I do this constantly. I even do this after several glasses of wine. Unfortunately, the more wine I drink the harder they are to interpret.

Take this excerpt for example:

"The last night in Tasmania we stayed in. A ioesywl. A hostel hostel... lcpuld never... Like community pottyies not bedrooms bc I got us sbprivTw, but in talking flips in the cr, but ofcorae I have none so I'm Sure o have atheltetrs footvor sobesthonf."

I don't know exactly what I was trying to say, but I do know I had a fabulous time.

Part 3... Sydney... coming soon.

Note: This was proofread after Lee and I practiced making margaritas. (It took a couple batches to get it right...) I cannot be held responsible for punctuation or grammatical errors. (Not that I've care about that stuff too much anyway...)

Our Australian Walk-a-bout: Part 1 - Melbourne

There is an inevitable cycle that occurs every time it comes to writing about our vacations.

It starts with the high. I love to travel, there is nothing I would rather do than see the world. So to me, each and every vacation is like taking a hit of a potent and highly addictive drug.

When I come home, I start having withdrawals. I stay in the house for a week moping around in a depressed state, blaming my condition on jet lag... which in turn inspires me to start planning the next trip, like an addict would search for their next fix.

(This drives Lee insane and leads him to believe I am both unrealistic and never satisfied. Both of which may be true.)

It takes me another week after that to get in the right head space to write about it, but by then I find myself wanting to write about other stuff instead.

In the end I usually cheat and just re-write the notes I took during the trip... which is what I will do for the most part this time too.

On our way to Australia

Went through airport security... 5 times... It appears someone finally realized the lackadaisical security here in Manila, so now they have gone from one extreme to the other.

Five minutes before boarding the plane buy water bottle 10 feet from gate entrance... Got stopped by security because apparently water sold within the first 4 rounds of security is unsafe to take on plane.

Tried to sneak said water bottle through round 5 of security... got caught. Winning smile... not working... these guys were obviously trained by professionals. So... to show my frustration, I stood there blocking all other patrons while finishing my water before getting in line to board the plane. But not before I ratted out the seven other people who were sitting down enjoying their "dangerous" water, and a making snide suggestions about how they could further improve security.

Note: Acting childish usually makes me feel better.

About to land in Melbourne... flight attendants are currently fumigating the airplane.



As in walking up and down the aisles spraying aerosol cans, (Which I'm pretty sure are combustible and aren't allowed on planes anyway.) which look and smell an awful lot like bug spray.

I. Feel. Like. A. Cockroach.

I said, they are probably disinfecting us because we are coming from the Philippines. Lee said, I was being an asshole and that it was probably just an Australian policy. Yeah. Right.



While leaving Moonlight Cinema, an outdoor movie theatre in the Royal Botanical Gardens.

Me: What is that? Did you see that? It looked like a giant squirrel! It ran like a squirrel... but it's too big to be a squirrel.

Lee: Eh... *Ignores me*

Me: Look!! There's another one. Wow! He's really close! Look!

Lee: What?

Me: Look!

Lee: Where?

Me: Ugh! Right there!!


Me: HAHAHA... What did you say?


Me: HAHAHA... Wait, I want to get a picture.

Lee: WHAT?!?! NO!! COME ON!!

(I'm not sure what we actually saw. But if I had to guess... after a 10 second Google search I would think it was an Australian Common Bushtailed Possum.

Lee has a much more elaborate version... you can see the video of what he remembers below....)


Note: I like Australians. They remind me a lot of Americans, except more boisterous and aggressive. I attribute that to them all being the offspring of a bunch of convicts.


I would like to preface this by saying, that this conversation took place after a glass of champagne, and two glasses of wine. Which is about the time I start making the following comments...

Me: Of all the English speakers... I like the Aussies the best!

Lee: Really...

Me: Yep!

Lee: And why is that?

Me: Well, Brits are like, "Ooohhh... La, di da." (Done in my best snobby british accent.) And Americans are like, "Uhhh... duh..." And Australians are like, "Aarrrrggghhhh!!!"

Lee: Ha! You should put that in your blog.

Me: No... I don't write about the stupid things I say. I write about the stupid things you say. If you want what I say to be made public you should write your own blog.

(In the end I relented. Obviously.)

Later that night... while having drinks in a bar on what was apparently salsa night, judging from the latin music and sultry dance pairs.

Me: There is nothing sexier than a guy who can dance...

Lee: You better be glad I can't dance.

Me: *eye brow raise*

Lee: Because I'm pretty sexy already.

(See... that's much better.)

Part 2 coming soon...

Friday, January 7, 2011

Battle Cries

There was a war in my kitchen.

A holocaust if you will.

An. Ant. Annihilation.

Now, if you've read my blog before you undoubtedly know my relationship with the insects that torture me in my home.

This is not new information.

But while we were away on vacation the ants must have called in reinforcements because they have taken over my kitchen.

It's become pretty clear they have taken up residence in the walls, because they come out of the electrical outlets, and start little battles in different corners of the kitchen.

An army of ants invaded the pantry, destroyed two boxes of cake mix and took the taco shells hostage.

The next group came from behind the refrigerator and set up a camp of hundreds in the sink. I can only assume they are The Navy.

Then there were the ants that made the treacherous journey across the microwave electrical cord and up granola bar hill.

And don't forget the special forces that came out of the fuse box, down the wall, up a table leg and into trash-can valley.

It was only when I came in the kitchen to find them swimming in my peanut butter that I knew, This. Was. War.

Forget negotiations and ant trap sanctions I was about to drop an atomic bomb.

I took everything out of the kitchen and started my mission...

... it didn't last long. A can of bug spray later, the battle was over.

Chat came in as it was ending, holding her nose, waving the air and looking at me as if I'd gone insane.

Perhaps it was my battle cries... or perhaps she thought I was cleaning.

Chat: Ma'am! Ma'am! Smells very strong. What are you doing?

Me: Killing the ants.

She stared at me in wide-eyed silence...

Because I didn't want this to be a suicide mission, (not sure poison control exists in the Philippines) the next two hours were spent rehabilitating my kitchen, and ensuring my kitchenware was pesticide free.

I climbed on top of cabinets and under counters gathering up the dead and removing traces of the battle.

Chat spent the next 15 minutes mopping one spot on the floor and staring at me like my head might spin off at any moment.

Were there survivors?


They were water-boarded.

Not really... turns out that's not really much of a tactic with ants. Instead they drowned in a sea of hot water and bleach.

Lee came home half an hour later to find the dining room still looking like this...

Lee: Hmm... sooo.... what's going on here?

Me: Genocide.

Lee: Right... Well, I wondered how long it would be until you went completely crazy.

3 days later... they're back. Not in full force, but enough of them for me to find this completely irritating.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Party Pinoy Style

One of the most unique things about the Philippines is undoubtedly their Christmas traditions and celebrations. (Something that came as quite a shock last year, when we celebrated our first Christmas here.) This year, I arrived back in the Philippines from the states on December 1st, fully prepared for what the next few weeks would entail. Or so I thought...

This year we attended four Christmas parties in one week. And in typical Filipino fashion all four had plenty of food...

... and hospitality.

(If Filipinos know one thing it's how to make you feel welcome. When it comes to playing party host/hostess these people are the most gracious. This table was set up just for me and Lee.
Note: there is an entire crate of beer...)


They all had a good number of raffle prizes...

(Doing a "happy dance" after winning a home theatre system.)

... outrageous performances...

(This particular party was "Cowboy" themed party... and yes, that is a man in a bra.)

... and too much karaoke.

(Too much... way to much.)


What I did not expect were the games.

Yes, games.

Like, relays.

As in, Field Day...

when you were 11.

Definitely not typical of work related Christmas parties in the states... but hey, to each their own. The Filipinos love it, we Americans however... we were a little confused.

But I participated... I can't say I was too enthusiastic about it. But after the girl doing the invocation prayed for everyones participation in the games, I couldn't really decline.

Fortunately, Lee and I were only asked to take part in the "G" rated games...
(Yes, there were non-"G"-rated games... and yes, those were awkward.)

... such as... writing Merry Christmas in the air... with your bum. Lovely.

Or trying to move a peso from your forehead to your mouth using only your face.

Stuffing a whole cookie in your mouth... (which felt a lot like eating a tablespoon of cinnamon...) ... then saying a phrase in Tagalog. (Which really isn't fair... because I couldn't have said the phrase without a cookie in my mouth... but whatever.)

Although, I guess I shouldn't complain... because Lee's next game was far worse...

... a balut eating contest...


Next? A crack the egg contest... although a slightly different take... and surprisingly difficult.

Our final game was the paper dance, which involved dancing around a sheet of paper while the music played... when the music stopped both people tried and fit on the sheet of paper. Each round the paper got smaller...

Round 1...

(Nothing to it...)

Round 2...

(I'm pretty sure I was crushing Lee's toes at this point.)

Round 3...

(Graceful... I know.)

Round 4...

Round 5...

It was right after this picture that Lee fell forward and dropped me on my head. But is was worth it... we won.

The list of games goes on and on, because when Filipinos throw a party it is an all day affair. And some of the games... well, let's just say became increasingly inappropriate.

There were relay games with fruit... and various body parts...

... or eating fruit off others body using only your mouth...

... then a teammate rolling a lime from the bottom of your pants to the top of your shirt while underneath your clothes...

Then there was the beer drinking contests... and don't forget women blowing up condoms and popping them on their fellow male co-workers laps.

But perhaps the most shocking of all was the following...

Bottle Crotch Relay... Really?!?