I had the divine experience of visiting a Strip Club for the
first time recently. What the hell have I been waiting for?! It's so obvious people,
Strip Clubs are clearly the solution to our Whirled problems. I attended with a small
group of friends. But from now on, all my dates will include a visit to the Strip Club.
In fact, I think I'll open my own. Not one of those Gentlemen Fake Boobies Bars
neither. But one with real, pierced and tattooed bodies. And good beer.
I'm plain tired of hearing about how stripping is degrading to women. Heck, Camille Paglia says that stripping is "a
sacred dance of pagan origins." A sort of modern Goddess Worship, if you will. I
whispered to my friend how cool it would be if a man stripper were dancing all sexy next
to the girl stripper. My friend announced confidently that men don't know how to dance
and be sexy at the same time. I speculated that's because Society At Large prohibits
them from letting out their Inner Sexy Man. She tried to guide me down the "only gay men
know how to be sexy" path. I didn't buy it.
I heard a comedian wonder why men go to strip clubs together. So they can get all horny
and hang out with the guys? My friend said that wives and girlfriends don't want to
watch nekkid women wiggle around their menfolk. Well they should. Nothing gets me
hotter than when My Man is hot. Who CARES what's making him hot. I'm lazy. The less I
have to do, the better. Besides, get your Man all hot and bothered and I'm certain he'll
agree to just about anything. Suddenly, my friend's husband asked her if he could have
the $10 Lap Dance Special. She told him no. They compromised and he watched her receive
a dance. Later they shared one, awwww.
By the time we left, all our menfolk were buttered up but good. Wrapping around me like
pythons, they presented hypnotic I Just Had A Lap Dance gazes and inquired "How you doin'
Miss C?." It wasn't that animalistic, desperate, drooling look offered at meat market
bars. Nor was it creepy or intrusive. It was more a look of sheer appreciation and
gratitude. One man even said to me, "That stripper may have buttered me up. But you,
Miss Conduct, you're like a HOT knife through butter." I felt just like Veronica Lake. If an
occasional visit to a strip club is going to learn our menfolk how to talk purty, I'm all
for it. Even if it means making Hot Monkey Love in a nearby alley. Plus, imagine how
much fun life would be if people felt good more often.
The club itself left a lot to be desired. There was no good beer. And even though they
advertise $4 drinks, mine was $5.25. I think they think a women will be less likely to
buy a lap dance or tip a stripper. So, ironically, women cost extra. This gave me the
idea to open my own strip club for all sexes. Good beer on tap and a full line of top
shelf liquor. Maybe little appetizers. Multiple stages, costumed scenarios. Feature
nights showcasing mud wrestling, wet t-shirt contests, muscle competitions, you get the
picture. Available for parties - including stripper in a cake like classics. How about
stripper classes! Pasty Making 101. There can even be a Partners Drink Free night to
encourage couples. The perfect recipe for love if you ask me: a horny man and a drunk
woman. Perhaps a 24 hour sex paraphernalia/video rental shop or a catering business. I
will call it Nocturnal Permissions. Of course, the fetish side will be called Nocturnal
Submissions. But you knew that.
