Comments by ralphyboy (page 3)

'Closer' began as a play on Broadway with Natasha Richardson. In spite of my enthusiasm for her as an actress, it was deadly boring (all I remember is some internet typing projected on a screen) and bore no resemblance to the movie whatsoever. It may be the raunchiest part Julia Roberts will ever play, and directed by Mike Nichols who goes all the way back to the Graduate in '68. If you like Clive Owens he plays another psuedo-bastard in an excellent English film called 'Croupier'. A nice meaty tale of lives on the edge in the gambling world-separated by less than six degrees from our favorite obsession.

240 miles! Must be a helluva club shcat! Is that one way or two? And where is this shaingra-la. Yeah, it always seems like the hot ones dis-appear and the dollar-grabbers you run from hang around for years. Futile to try to find them again. I occasionally consider branching out from my ATF club, but then realize, that if I stand still long enough, all the different girlies I'd run around trying to see will eventually end up in my joint, given time and tide. Just stay put and let them come to you. More efficient and less expensive.

My "favorites" box is empty, and can find no way to create a list of favorites. Nothing on 'update' or 'my page' to indicate way to add clubs to Favorites box

Made the mistake of booking a LD at an inner city club in Philly with an Energizer Bunny type Josephine Baker dancer right after her set. She couldn't have been wetter if she'd stepped out of a pool. Slipped and slided all over poor me rough-shod until I cried for mercy. One of those dances when 3 minutes feels like 30. Poor thing was sweating like a pig all over me--and I had to smile and pay for the privilege. Never again.

I guess, after 30 years on the circuit, I'm the average dancer's worst nightmare. Anymore, if I spend $20-25 in a joint (including cover) I'm hitting the limit.Other than the obligatory buck or two per dance, I dodge all the girls (easily 80%) who do not interest me unless they are downright inescapable. I pick and choose whom I will lavish ($4 or 5 per set) the funds on and generally run from the rest. I've played the sucker for decades and am happy to relinquish the front row seats to the young and restless. Never really got into the LDancing--thought it was way over-priced for what you got--but still succumb on the rare occasion for some exotic morsel who is simply irresistible. Pick and choose--a little self restraint in these places goes a long way.

Had a 10 speed stolen off the back of my car near an LAX club, 3 tires slashed outside a dump in nowheresville NJ, and car window smashed and variety of s**t stolen in Philly. Have puked my guts out the car window and on beaches and under boardwalks coast to coast---other than that the past 35 years have been a slice. Hell I'd go out tonite if it wasn't raining.

I like loose, silk boxers under the thinnest, softest crushed cotton pants--no zippers or belts. Nothing better than timing the splooge right at the end of the dance with a soft little push-off. If done right, they really can't tell, or don't care. Only had one ROB (a sister from the philly hood) start shrieking once and vocally demanding more money. It was extortion by public embarrassment more than anything. Just beat it the hell out of there--what else to do?

Been in this game 35+ years and I'm with FONDL on this one. It's an increasingly rare dancer who will actually take a few minutes out of the dollar hustle to kick back and talk like a human being. Not surprising--it takes a certain maturity, intelligence and chemistry, all endangered qualities in most joints today. If it ain't sex object vs ATM anymore it just ain't happening. Those elements will never be taken out of the strip club encounter, but when they dominate to the exclusion of all other human values dancer and PL both are losing out on so many deeper and more interesting levels of inter-action. Just part of the reason our new SHOW ME THE MONEY world can be such a lonely place to walk around in.

Gotta love a guy who answers a compliment with a name-calling attack on the person who extended the compliment. Takes a real class act, and the type of person who makes these forums a pleasure to participate in. (NOT). And speaking of wankers, it is "unbridled" and not "unbriddled."

1) 10 speed cut off back of car (joint had security stationed outside) near LAX 2) 3 slashed tires by a dis-gruntled ex-employee in the Jersey boonies 3) Smashed driver's window and bag full of booze and shoes stolen in CC Philly 4) DUI coming out of a couple joints in Jersey--stupidest and worst SC thing that ever happened to me. Granted, this is all over a period of 35 years; a word to the wise--be alert and keep your cool. These ain't churches we're hangin' around in.

One night in my younger and drunker days I couldn't stand it anymore and whipped it right out (1am, dark dive, under a winter coat) stageside and took care of business. Got away with that one. Couple years later, a sister in a black joint started screaming bloody murder when I shot--'you got it all over me, rolling down my leg!' It was BS, but she got her extra ten or twenty to shut up, as I skidoodled the hell out of there. She was the exception to the rule--the dozens and dozens of others, can't tell, don't care, or downright want and expect it.

One man's meat is another's poison. No one knows where taste comes from. But I pity the boys who've described beavers as "ugly and non-descript." I find them luscious and mysterious objects of infinite beauty and diversity. Of course it could just be the delicious way they smell and taste and feel when they are wrapped around my cock. Sometimes I wish I found them less intrigueing and beautiful--I've wasted half my life gazing at them in the most embarrassing and juvenile way. Somebody, please STOP ME before it's too late!

What began as a trickle years ago has turned into a fairly routine expectation--they always come in packs and are there more often than not in my regular joint. Personally, I like it. At least they are asses in seats in joints that are all too often two-thirds empty. They add energy, intrigue and flavor--and they tip too. I've seen more than one get up on stage. What's not to like? It's called women's liberation and it's here to stay. More power to them.

Early 70's; Newport, Ky. Pink Pussycat. Fancy table-clothed stripping out front, gambling and god knows what else in back. Still remember the statuesque EZ Ryder (yeah, she ripped off the movie). Used to sit outside in the car @ closing time with my nineteen year old boner waiting for a glimpse of her. Like she was going to recognize me, wink, and climb in. Thirty five years later and the fantasy dies hard.

Silk boxers. 'Nuff said.

Never done more than two. Don't get me wrong-I love the journey as well as the destination, but for me popping is the logical desirable conclusion of any Lap. And if the gurl's any good at all, two should be more than enough to accomplish that.Hell, the best can do it in half a song even if you're an old fart who hasn't felt particularly horny since '04. An experienced and attractive gurl will get it up and out of you in no time. It's all about chemistry and technique-some robotic grinders leave you wondering how quickly you can get out of there. Other solicitous sex bombs can get you off with a look and a stroke.

Absolutely-and I'm the cheapest-skate on the planet. Of course she's got no business in the business, and her ten minutes seems like an eternity (to everyone probably including her) but the fact is she's working it, giving it all she's got in heels on sore feet and WORKING for a living. Of course she's in the wrong line, but she'll realize that sooner or later. We aren't all born beautiful, and giving such a creature a buck is only humane and decent. Nobody in any line of menial work deserves total rejection and humiliation. You high-horses should choke on that buck.

I appreciate BookGuys quandary and FONDL's fine advice. As I've pondered a life revolving around that little thing between my legs, and that other little thing bewteen their legs, I've often wondered what new activity would take their place when that twin fascination begins to dwindle. (And it already has). What will fill the vacuum? What substitution? Of course it remains in out heads long after it leaves our loins. I've often heard a 95 year old man's last dying thoughts are of that sweet gash-usually the one he never got. A pleasant prospect or the final hellish torment? You be the judge.

1970, Newport Ky. (the twilight of it's nice and nasty glory years-now it's all cleaned up and a shadow of its old bad self) The Mousetrap, or for a little more 'class' the Pink Pussycat where EZ Ryder (yeah the movie had just come out) strode the stage like an Amazon. If you handed her your cloth napkin (I told you the place had class) she'd give it a few quick swipes under the taint between her skyscraper legs and hand it back. An ice cold can of Wiedeman's never tasted so good.

Standard, average wait service gets fifteen %. By comparison your average lap (most of them) get no tip-the price of the LD is enough. Unusually attentive, gracious and professional wait service rates a premium tip. And what man in his right mind, could NOT tip a particularly sensual, hands-on so-called 'dance' that finishes you before the song itself is done. Those gurls are tried and true professionals in a class by themselves, and fully deserve a premium tip. You'd have to be a heel to slink away from one of these vixens w/o compensating their distinctive service above and beyond the mere price of the 'dance.'

Anybody remember Strutters in Long Branch NJ, or Encounters-a total dive biker's bar with sawdust on the floor and a pool table in next room. Down and dirty. All dancer's of the second tier with a little too much padding and in need of a good dental plan-saw girls in there with snakes wrapped around them, and could get a good bit of hide the pinky action for a buck. Was not deterred there til the afternoon two gentlemen LE threw me against my vehicle in the parking lot and searched me-told be I didn't 'fit in' the area and aroused their suspicion.

great read mmdv...thanks for posting...couldn't put it down...and that's been awhile..

excellent, on point review, and the dancer blog link is appreciated..the limitations of the sliding chairs may explain why most of the boys were getting their 'lappies' standing against the wall...

funny, scary, AND compelling. i can't wait to go here.