The following podcast is a deer media production.

Hi everybody, welcome to the Vitchfible podcast. Oh my god, I'm doing amazing,

sweetie. I just need to set the scene for you right now. First of all, I shouldn't be saying this

because these walls are thin, but I just saw one of my painter's penises and we made eye contact

and honestly it was fine. His urine smells like red wine vinegar. I probably didn't need to mention

that. I'm sorry, it's 24 seconds in. I have never smelled urine like that. I'm literally just sitting

here in a guest room. I look over and he he must have gotten lost and he's just pissing with the

door open and I saw the tip of his genitalia. We made eye contact. I just turned right on over

and started recording because that's what a professional does. But the wafting of his urine,

I have a nose like a bloodhound. His urine smells like a vinaigrette. Like it needs some shallots,

some djon, some Italian parsley. Let's go. Olive garden bread sticks. Hello. So yes, I've seen

his penis. There's 16 men here right now. If you hear jack cameras in the background, I'm very,

very sorry. I am standing. I'm holding a pop filter. I'm just freely holding a pop filter. I will

be doing this entire episode standing up. Okay, in an empty room. You guys, you guys, where do we

even begin? Okay, so it is 10.32 a.m. I've already been to five home improvement shops. I would

just like to say the thing that nobody wants to say. I'm too attractive to be in a home depot

before 9 a.m. That's not my fucking journey. Also, if anyone needs a general contractor,

slide into my DMs because I'm basically one at this point. I've been to two duet centers.

I've been to a home depot, a lows and a tile shop and it's 10.30 a.m. I'm wearing a white

bike short. That perfectly cups my labia. These men were gawking at me. Okay, I gave them the

ride of their life at 9 a.m. at the Woodland Hills fucking home depot. It's like a borderline safety

hazard for me to be there. Okay, because it was boners on boners, boners on aisle six, seven,

...