By Melissa Fossum
By Lauren Wise
By New Times
By Amanda Savage
By Jason P. Woodbury
By Troy Farah
By New Times
It's not surprising that all of the mannequins at Castle Megastore have huge boobs, complete with perky pink nipples. But as I'm lifting a G-string to see just how anatomically correct these mannequins are, I hear CooKie emit a scream of excitement from the vibrator section. "Baby, baby, come look at this alligator!"
Alligator? Sure enough, when I get over there, CooKie's holding a foot-long green vibrator that looks exactly like a baby alligator. In the same aisle, there are vibrators that resemble elephants, bears, beavers, and dolphins. I find all this a little disturbing. Are old-school phallic vibrators so unsatisfying that we must hump dolphins now?
CooKie and I happen upon some Cyberskin vaginas in the next aisle, and proceed to molest them for several minutes, until the music on Castle's sound system catches our ears.
I know the holiday season goes until New Year's, but by the day after Christmas, I'm sick of seasonal songs. And these songs weren't just any Christmas songs, but tunes with a religious slant. As I pull hard on the lips of a rubber vagina, I hear a chorus of children singing, "Praise the Lord, Jesus is born."
Disturbed, CooKie and I head back to J-Heads. It's now 12:30, and there are only five vehicles left in the lot. The guy at the door informs us that the performers never showed up, and Bobkatt has just been performing a number here and there while the DJ spins songs. CooKie and I decide not to go back in.
It's too late to hit Blunt Club now, so we head home to play Crocodile Hunter with my Christmas gift instead.