As a Former Professional Drinker I can assure you that I contributed to the United states economy in ways that your Non-Professional Drinker does not.
For example, back before General Motors and Chrysler got themselves in a big jam, they owed to me a debt of gratitude, not to mention a new Corvette, for my contributions to their financial well being. Not all of their success but a great deal of it.
You may be asking yourself how could a solitary Fearless Leader be such a boon to the automotive industry in the United States? The answer? Strippers. I dropped enough money on lap dances to finance several dozen new cars. With extended warranties. I had the money to blow, so why not help out a stripper? It beats the hell out of giving to the nitwits who sell flowers on street corners. I’ll take knockers over flowers any day of the week.
Not So Good Places
Some of the Jiggle Joints I patronized were not what you’d call “gentlemen’s clubs”. Dives is more like it. I was going into to this one place in Houston one time with a couple of my buddies visiting from Dallas when there was a hail of gun fire right in front of the entrance to the place. Spooky indeed. So, what did we do? We went in. What did you expect? There were boobies waiting to be gawked at in there.
|Fire! Or Not.|
In the more “high class” strip clubs the props used by the dancers range from that well-known piece of exercise equipment known asthe “stripper pole” to ribbons and fog machines. Only the ugly stippers, however, used the fog machines. But even the most high-tech and foggiest of fog machines can not hide ugly. Take my word for it.
I did not pay for lap dances from ugly strippers. A nice rack can get a girl only so far with me. Ugly is a deal-breaker.
Down in Hotlanta, a group of Professional Drinkers and bidnessmen were sitting around looking at tatas and blowing their hard earned money at a strip joint when a thick smoke filled the room. Thicker and thicker the smoke became. “Fire!”, someone yelled. So the pro drinkers and the Guys Cheating on Their Expense Accounts were herded outside the club.
Enter the Fire Department. Unable to locate the blaze, one fireman bravely entering the “inferno”, struggling to see through the thick smoke when he finally came upon the source of the smoke.
You guessed it. A stripper fog machine!
It seems as if if one of the strippers forgot to turn off the fog machine after her routine and the smoke quickly filled up the entire titty bar! This ruins a good day of looking at nice racks rather quickly.
Preguntas (a little Meskin lingo there)
As usual, I have questions.
- How could a stripper fog machine be making fog for a long enough period of time without being noticed until the whole club looked like downtown London?
- Who was the Dumbas in charge of turning off the stripper fog machine? The stripper or some minimum wage bar back who was too drunk to remember to shut it off?
- Why did this Strip Club hire an ugly stripper? Remember, only ugly stripper use fog machines.
- Did the management of the club fire whoever screwed up all the boob ogling?
- Is the ugly stripper still working there?
- What happened to the stripper fog machine?
Inquiring minds want to know.