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After the success of last year’s “Anora”, I started thinking of other movies about strippers and strip clubs. Not movies about male strippers (like Magic Mike, The Full Monty or 2015’s Chocolate City). Not teen sex comedies like Porky’s. And not movies with a stripper character who never actually strips (Flashdance, Sin City, From Dusk Til Dawn…

A favorite club girl, Sweet, took me to a mime show. Although it might seem odd for this forum, I wrote it to provide a contrast of the United States culture and the Mexican culture. One of my PERSONAL joys is learning about the culture of the countries I visit. Which is unlike most of the mongers traveling to Tijuana…

I am sure that many of the guys have experienced that “post-nut clarity” after a session (no matter how wonderful). It is a feeling of apathy where you don’t want to go back to the club right away and even if you do, you are in a state of “suspended animation”. After a session, my mind is least interested in…

I've been club mongering for over a couple decades now and noticed that inflation hasn't hit the clubs nearly as much as other industries. not that i'm complaining lol, but when i started a lapper was $20. This was a nude mostly air dance. That same club now has dances for $25, $5 added around 10 years ago because of…

It was this Saturday night, me (20 M) and my friends went out to a night club to have a drink and when we left, we decided to go to a nearby SC. We were seated, ordered a drink and talked to a few girls that came to us. We didn't get any dances at first, just casually chatted with them.…

It finally happened, after three decades of clubbing in the city where I live. A dancer introduced herself, sat down next to me, and asked (as a conversation starter) what my plans were for the weekend. We didn't recognize each other immediately, but eventually from chatting about my weekend plans it became clear that we knew some of…

In the winter of 1993, Dave Jackson (not my real name) was thirty-two, newly divorced, and freshly unemployed, sitting in the half-empty parking lot of the Pink Pony on Buford Highway with divorce papers still warm in the glovebox. The club’s neon bled pink across the windshield while he nursed a vodka he couldn’t taste. A dancer named Cinnamon asked…

This is a long read. I get it, but if you don't want to read it, ask for a refund. Part One . The original plan was to have a threesome with a girl we met at Amnesia named Palace. ATF1 and I were in that club twice, and ATF1 got along with Palace extremely well. (Palace is about 5-foot, with a…

I can’t post this as a club review because the club doesn’t have a page in this site. (32.7742941, -83.6602024) The club is a somewhat large standalone building. One side of the parking lot had massive potholes. The club was not not notably dirty or clean, just older / sort of dingy. Most of the patrons were black. I saw 1-2…

It began, as all true American horror stories do, with a text that came in during the witching hour: “She took the dog.” That was it. No punctuation. No context. Just those four words, carved into my phone like a ransom note from Hell. My old friend Danny—journalist, bourbon enthusiast, and optimist by mental defect—had finally joined the ranks of the divorced.…