-_______________-” The point of pasties is to actually cover your nipples.
so tonight, we (me, ellie, my dad, my dad’s friend from the navy, and his wife) were sitting out on the deck, talking, drinking, whatever. none of that is really important, just know that we were outside in full view of the front door around eight tonight.
so the doorbell rings, and my first thought is that it’s my brother coming to say hi or grab a toy he forgot last time he was here or something. my dad gets up from the table and goes to answer the door, and when i hear the voice come from whoever—or whatever—it is that was ringing our doorbell, i realize that i was sadly mistaken.
i turn to ellie, “girl scout?” i say. it sounded like a small child, most likely a girl. we’re all looking at my dad, trying to find any hints in his mannerisms or body language, getting nothing because we weren’t really trying because we only half cared about who was at our house this late at night.
my dad went out of view for a few seconds, and came back laughing with some container in his hand. as he’s walking back up to the table he says to ellie, “remember that stripper that borrowed our phone? she brought us cookies!”
cue the “what the actual fuck?” from the table. well, no one actually said that, but his statement did warrant an explanation. he tossed the cookies onto the table and confirmed that yes, she is a stripper, because her note* smells like cheap vanilla body spray so of course she is.
apparently, a woman in a very revealing outfit with a “rash on her chin from her boobs rubbing up on it all the time” came to our house the other day, claiming that she’s “not crazy” but needed to use the phone because her boyfriend works right down the street at montclair mart and she wanted to visit him but didn’t know if he’d get in trouble if she did so she wanted to call him first to make sure it was okay.
my dad let her use the home phone, a favor she was truly grateful for and still “not crazy,” and she was on her way. ellie, being skeptical of the whole thing, googled the phone number stripper girl had called and found that it was in fact the number of montclair mart.
so now, here we are, six chocolate almond horn cookies richer and still confused as to what the stripper’s real profession is.
*the note says “from the crazy blond chick you let use your phone—thank you!”
D’awww…. That’s so sweet. <3
-coming from a crazy blond stripper chick- XD
I love that we have so many plans for our lives, we want to do so much yet don’t even get half of it done when it comes to the end. We either don’t have the means ($$) to get where we want to be or we’re just too damn lazy so we rather marry some rich old man and wait till he dies to get the means. While we have a sexy boy on the side (Ana Nicole Smith RIP, she truly takes the cake for that). However, there aren’t quite enough rich old men with heart problems to satisfy the growing population of ladies in the world are there now? So then some become strippers… which apparently now is completely acceptable in the 21st Century society (Guess we saw the light?). However, the only reason they become strippers is to meet one of those few men with large digits in their bank account, but most fail and just get stuck with an STD. Oh Well. As long as it’s not me what do I care?
Anywho, I want to get a bunny and name it Sparta but I just can’t stand the strong smell of their urine so I’ll just skip out on the pet thing for now.
I’m sorry. Where’d you get your information? And why’d you feel the need to trash talk strippers?
Is it because we most likely make more money than you do?
Why in the HELL would you think that all strippers are at the club so they can meet some old rich guy? I know married strippers. We’re there because we can’t get any other job, and it’s not bad pay anyway. Even with a masters degree, in Portland, you’re lucky if you can get a job flipping fucking burgers. Strippers have the easiest job to get into, and if you don’t like the place you’re at, you can easily go somewhere else.
And STDs? Why? Because we’re whores? Because we give blowjobs in lap dance booths? People like you are the reason I started this blog. Strippers are NOT prostitutes. And our worlds do NOT revolve around money. We’re average people. Just like yourself.
Just because you aren’t pleased with the way your life has turned out, doesn’t mean trash talking strippers is going to make it better. How ‘bout you actually go make some changes to your life, and maybe you won’t be so miserable. :/
1) Don’t joke around about giving us a dollar when it’s time to tip. And don’t say “Hahahaha, how about you tip me?” We hear that a million times a night and it’s not funny.
2) Don’t ask me my real name or background. I’m going to lie to protect my safety and anonymity. Also, knowing the “real…
omg, this. <3
(Just to point out though, fireman poles are made to be able to slide down easily. Stripper poles are made to stick to you skin. -____-” Yes, I know. I have a comment for everything. -giggle-)
I CANT EVEN. BRIDGET THE MIDGET
Oh sure, fire a cop because he goes to see a stripper, but let the cop who’s killed three innocent people keep his job. Portland police….. X(
(granted this wasn’t Portland, but still.)
K…. I’ve never seen these before… I’m slacking a little. ^^” CUUUTE.
Campeã de Pole Dance Será Candidata ao Senado
A stripper e campeã de pole dance Zahra Stardust (nome de batismo Marianne Leishman) será candidata ao senado na Austrália, divulgou o The Sun. Saiba mais.
You know, out of all the pole tricks I do, this is the only one I’ve never been able to do. :/ It eludes me, and I feel like I’ll never be able to progress untill I can figure it out.
She’ll eat you for free. ;D
One of my favorite movies. Zombie Strippers. FUCK YEAH.
Two of my favorite things. Zombies. And strippers. Doesn’t get better than that, does it? <3