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Feel The Love
2002-01-03 12:07:57


Would You Like Fetish With That?
 
Behind every pathetic worthless loser of a man is a woman who figured his sorry ass out and stabbed him in the back.
-- The Compulsive Splicer

 

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.

Over.  End of Story.  Go home now.

sadist@pigdog.org


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