I go to strip clubs about as often as I vote for Republicans, and with about as much enthusiasm. My last trip was for a friend's bachelor party in '07, at the Acropolis in Portland (which has the nerve to call itself a steakhouse -- believe me, nothing in that place is "well done"). I
can say this for the club: none of their strippers had band-aids on their asses, like a dancer at another bachelor party years before. Classy.
The highlight of my evening? A visit to the men's room, where I finally found something I could photograph without risking a black eye or knee to the groin or worse yet, a lap dance.
In retrospect, I really wish I had invested the $1.50 to learn the secrets of their penile enlargement technique (just out of curiosity, mind you) and apparently-Bill Clinton-endorsed oral gratification device. Tough titties (some pun intended), I guess.
©2009 Garrito
3 comments:
The pecker stretcher does not at all sound painful.
I had lunch at a Hooter's once and our waitress had a bandaid over a visibily open wound on her upper boob. Nice.
No kidding...take a sick day and give your T&A a little R&R.
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