i should explain the title very quickly…
…the BIT is nine years old – or fucking close enough. the stripper was in her mid-twenties at the time. now thirties. have no idea where she is now, but i wish her all the best wherever it may be. moving on…
by sean ~ March 25th, 2002. Filed under: Uncategorized.
if you like to snack on spinach squares and lemon cactus soda, you should have been with me sunday afternoon. of course, if you prefer to snack on an oreo that had just been used to scrape chocolate sauce and whipped cream off a set of 38DDs that have appeared in hustler magazine on more than one occasion, you should have been with me sunday night. what can i say? i DID remember the sabbath, but i turned it into an astrowhore day instead of keeping it holy. i am SO going to hell for that one, huh? (like that’s new news) and only one week before easter!!!
got a wake-up call from kathi at 9:55 sunday morning alerting me to the fact that she was picking me up to go to a psychic brunch featuring kramer. sixty seconds later i got a wake up call (adjusted from the usual time for weekend purposes) from the USUAL wake-up source (sorry kathi, but you know that’s who i prefer to be the first voice i hear in the morning…and preferably in person, but all in due time) let’s move on, shall we?
kathi had asked me if i was going to this brunch thing on friday…AFTER i’d had some booze; so i said, “sure”. when she called on suday morning, i couldn’t for the life of me remember what i was supposed to do with this brunch thang, so i called kramer and he said he didn’t even know i was going. so, thinking, “what the hell”, i hop in the shower, get ready, and head off to the “psychic brunch”. this would be the “ASTRO” part of my day. the food was a bit too healthy for my tastes, and some of us get to milk those kramer skills anytime we want (the magic of being on the FGS staff), so kathi and i went to arby’s, target, and back to L-town. then came sunday night, when the girls at sugar’s tried to put the “CABARET” in “sugar’s uptown cabaret”.
“for six months these girls have been working and training, and tonight, the FINALS!!!!” i have been a club dj, and a radio dj. i could NEVER be a strip club dj. i’m too cool. too cynical. i just can’t be THAT cheesy. i should know…i tried during my last job quest, and it just felt odd to me.
*adopts cheesy dj voice*
“okay guys, remember these girls work for your tips and your tips alone, so take care of these lovely ladies while they take care of YOU…now coming up on the topside, give it up for madison…”
SO not me.
this, of course is the latter part of the namesake day. okay, so they’re not WHOREs. far from (some come pretty damn close, though…)they’re strippers; in texas it’s the closet thing we’ve got (legally). so last night was the final round of their dance contest, and it was interesting to see how the different girls approached it. some went at it straight stripper-style, some went theatrical (and DAMN cheesy in the process, for the most part) and almost ALL of the finalists (5 outta 6 to my recollection) had tarps thrown down at some point, so the milk (or paint, or oil, or candle wax, or ice cream, or whipped cream, or chocolate sauce, or ozarka) wouldn’t get spilled on the stage. wish i’d known that tarp trick before my last halloween party when similar issues arose, but i digress (btw, candlewax DOES come out of bed sheets with normal washing…little tip…me to you)
the shirt press idea was used by a couple of them with interesting results. basically, what they do is smear paint (usually black-light reactive) on their chest or ass or stomach or whatever, then wrap a white shirt around a side-of-the-stage-dollar-dangling-patrons head, and press their painted body up against it and gyrate to make a design….from what i saw, nothing was that erotic about it, and basically it just came out looking like some five year old had done finger painting; but the guys held onto it like it was their sacred parchment. wonder how they’ll explain THAT to the girlfriend/wife waiting at home…
then of course, there was jody (a friend i met through james a couple of years ago)…blond, 36dd (or ee, i lose track), a few tattoos, former hustler girl, and just damn fun. while the pa system blared “i want candy” and “pour some sugar on me” (ah, def leppard, where would YOUR career have been without strippers?) she covered herself in chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and ice cream…then she started scraping it off with oreos and feeding them to the salivating audience members. did i eat one? nope….i know where she’s been (just kidding, jody, my sweet – pardon the pun; our vip table was too far from the stage) and what do we drink with cookies? MILK…and she dumped two half-gallon jugs across her half-gallon jugs to wash it all off. did she win? NO. and the one who did, nice as she was, was NOTHING compared to the human sundae show. who says there’s justice in this world? but like my mother used to say, ALWAYS save room for dessert…