14 June 2011
The Photo Acclimation Project: The Donkey Show
These are the donkeys in my neighborhood. Do you have donkeys in your neighborhood? Donkeys are funny. Should I play the Marky Mark SNL skit again? It goes like this: "Hey, Donkey. How you doin'? You live in a barn, right?"
And that is what I say to each and every one of these donkeys. Because when you see a donkey, you have to stop and say hi. Just try to walk on by - it's not possible. You could also say "Nice ass." Which is Mike's standard response. And I laugh every time. Every. Time.
Did you know that donkies actually do all those funny things you see in cartoons?
They peel their lips back to show you their teeth. But I don't think it's a nice gesture like "see my teeth?" I think it's an insult. This picture is a little off-center because I started to run away.
This is actually a poorly timed shot of a donkey kick. They really do donkey kicks! Seriously. This donkey is just standing there watching traffic and then, quick as a cricket, his back legs shoot up in the air. Then he goes back to watching traffic.
They also wag their heads back and forth like they're saying no no no no no no no. And their giant ears go flop flop flop flop flop flop flop. Then they rest their chin on their neighbor's back.
See the photo in collage above? Just resting my chin on your back.
Oops. This is a donkey show of another kind. This is an urban donkey show (called "The Donkey Show") involving nearly nude men bedazzled in glitter and dancing to the Village People.
I really needed this Donkey Show. Sometimes you need a dose of alternative culture dressed in sparkles to feel like you're a part of the world again. I don't necessarily need to let my freak flag fly - but I do need to see other people's freak flags. This Donkey Show was the antidote to rural living.
There was an actual show. But I'm not sure what it was about. Something about Shakespeare? And there was cross-dressing. Lots and lots of cross-dressing. And at the glittery climax of the show (feel free to interpret - you'd be right either way), I danced with Mike under the disco ball. His version of dancing being standing still and holding a beer. Sometimes he'd snap a picture of me dancing by myself. It's ok - I'm used to it. As long as he stays out of my way, no one gets hurt. Long ago, I accepted this life of dancing by myself so I make it my mission to dance enough for both of us.
In my heaven, there will be a disco ball.
And glittery gay men who will dance with me.
But if you choose this life........
.......don't put the glitter near your eyes because I heard it can scratch your corneas.