Comments by BaddJack (page 13)

I think what would be MORE fun is for us to admit the dumbest thing we ever said to a stripper. Mine? "If you could quote 20 consecutive lines of Shakespeare, I would leave my family...." I was lucky that she couldn't.

I set my phone on a table, getting ready for some VIP action, and she opened it, put her number in it (under the name cRZy HOtT ChiC, or some shit), called HER phone with mine so that it imprinted MY number and she called me for the whole three days I was in Dallas. She called from the hallway of my hotel, just to see if she and her drunk friend could "wake me up....the Texas way; she called me right before she went to bed around 7 am (I was already conducting business); and she called just to see if we could meet for lunch and hang out. It was crazy. She never mentioned money, and never put pressure on me to come back to the club. Weird.

I enjoy going alone. Most of the time I take in the Local Folk Dancing is when I am otherwise traveling for business. However, I have had many, many good trips with friends, as well. I guess the only thing you need to pay attention to is how much of your club persona you want your male buddies to see. I have one close friend, a physician (I am a semi-retired attorney) that has the same shtick that I do. In fact, we have found that the profession that tends to draw the most attention is when we tell the girls that are both chiropractors. We are allowed to administer long and sensuous massages....

I am fairly new here, and I miss TUSCL_brother, as well. SCat....please pass on my best. JJ: hit the "ignore" button and greenvegas will go away from your screen. I do not even know what ignorant thing he posted, as I have "ignored" all 3 of his incarnations, but I can tell from your ire that he must be back. He is like any irritant: if you scratch it, it spreads. Leave it alone, and he'll go home.

I don't know the exact question that the drunk at the tip rail asked, but the stripper said loud enough for me to hear: "No, Dipshit, my Momma did not name me Baby Doll"

i am not a benzedrine fan. Back in the day, I was more of a Quaalude guy. So requiring bennies from her would never cross my mind. I might require a blow job every day, and a nasty fuck once or twice, but I am too old and slow to ask for bennies.

I think that there is a correlation. Both leading cheers in high school and stripping requires a large dose of narcissism. They love dudes looking at and lusting after them. So, I fall on the side of believing that ones that claim that they were cheerleaders. You don't seem to find many gymnasts, and that is a damn shame.

I wanna be a dead-beat boyfriend. If any of you guys know a low-self-esteem dancer, will to re-locate and keep me in a means to which I can become accustomed, let me know. Big tits are preferred, but not required.

Coolest one that ever happened to me was about 15 years ago. There was a dancer that looked just like the cutie that babysat my small children. I never even approached hanky-panky with the sitter, but I thought about it. Anyway, I saw a dancer that looked just like her, he gave three wonderful lappies and we talked afterward. It turns out, she was the older sister of my sitter. Sweet.

OK, I understand all the previous posts re: tatoos, piercings, bad tits,etc. However, I seem to hear my inner voice the most often when I see a cute, but not beautiful, girl with a spark of intelligence on her face (maybe wearing eyeglasses?)and then having her speak to me and remove all doubt that she is a By-God Dipshit. The total lack of intelligence and sophistication is the thing that causes me most often to shake my head and say "it's a damn shame......"

It is obvious that Rudger has been to the Swiftian school of essay. It is excellent satire, and I congratulate him. The only one I even remotely wonder about was a dancer from the old Kansas City joints on the Missouri side in the mid-1980s. She danced to the name "Cricket" and did an amazing and interesting bit to "We Are the World." Nice big tatoo of a wildcat on her hip. Please, please, Cricket--or anyone that knows her--contact me with any information, as I am as satirically pathetic as Rudger.

In college a had the girlfriend that lived near the "crazy/hot" bell curve and she believed that the actual act of screwing should only last 7 minutes. Foreplay, cuddling, oral, etc., could exceed at either end of the clock, but I could only be in the saddle for seven minutes. She also loved Ted Nugent. Therefore, she would only screw to "Stranglehold." Because it was just over 7 minutes long, I had time to set the stereo, jump into bed, jump her bones, and I had to be done right at the end. She was nutty, but the violent, misogynistic lyrics made the whole thing pretty kinky.

Only one I have ever been to is the Million Dollar Saloon in Dallas. While it was a couple of years ago, and was not my favorite club that we went to that night, I thought it was OK. Trust me some of the Kansas City, Missouri clubs from the 80s were MUCH worse.

Steve: You are my hero. Not only do you know your way around rock lyrics, you have a great idea about how to be entertained. I am still waiting for someone to give me that lead on the druggie nympho stripper that only wants my tiny dick and 3 hots and a cot. Again, big tits are preferred, but not necessary. Would it sound like whining if I asked that her natural teeth outnumbered her tattoos?

inumnutz: I like them lean and sophisticated, too. I also like them bootilicious and nasty. I seriously dig them inked up and drugged out. I am an equal-opportunity exploiter. Steve: You're welcome. Any chick that can make her tattoo appear to fly because of booty-quake is THUMBS UP from me.

jablake: now YOU are my hero. Thanks for the tip. I shall miss the arboreal splendor of the Ozarks, and humidity makes me crazy, but if I can get the girls of my dreams: "Miami, here I come!"

My strangest? A plastic Crayola bucket full of black-light paints in various colors. And a tarp. She was so grateful that she lapped me until I cried. At least, I CLAIMED it was tears...

Oh, THAT kind of "bennies." My bad.

Had a fave that went by the stage name of Abby Rose (Beatles' fan?) that had a huge booty, a 24 inch waist and very respectable 34 D high and tight natural breasts. She looked liked she had a bit of Mediterranean heritage, as her eyes and hair were very dark, but her skin was alabaster and flawless. I think even whooties can be all European and still get the crazy can. (As an aside: she worked as a substitute teacher on her off days, and had a Masters in Elementary Education)

The paint. No question.

happylap has an excellent memory. Raven at the Eclipse was a great dance. She also "dated" OTC. She didn't want cash for sex, she only wanted money spent on her: a fancy supper, good wine, a night in a ritzy lake condo. She was a great fuck. However, my stripper that I have never forgotten danced in the mid 80s at a little mob-run joint in KCMO. She danced by the name of Cricket and had the most perfect breasts I have ever seen. She was very nasty onstage and used to "rug it" (the old guys know what I mean) with the best of them. Cricket, if you are out there, I miss you. I am the fat guy that always drank my Miller Lites two at a time and told the tragic tale of why I ordered one for my missing buddy. The best lap dance experience I ever had was from a small-time porn starlet named Aspen Alps at the original Fantasy Ranch outside of Warrensburg, MO. Sorry, Moniet and Milan, you just made the second team.

OK. There I was between marriages (first and second? second and third? no matter....), and I meet this really swell, mature bartendress named Misti. She had it all: spinner body, sexy throaty laugh, long honey-blond hair, green eyes and the annoying habit of drawing a heart over the second "i" in "Misti." She was perfect. She fucked like people were watching, she blew me like it was her last meal and she had a kinky streak that I could not keep up with, although I seriously tried (I was in my mid 30s--must have been between One and Two--ed.) She also worked in the the 1-900-SUK-U-OFF industry. She had the best voice and the nastiest patter and made VERY large scratch. So, Steve, and GatorFan, for years I sang "My Angel is a Telephone (Angel is a Telephone)". I miss her somewhat.

I suggest "Hollywood" at Washington Park. I wrote a review a couple of years ago, and recently visited, and the review is still accurate. PTs is a lot of fun, and they cater to a sports-oriented crowd. If you are not into glitz and are a "cheap bastard" stay clear from the Penthouse Club in Sauget. It shares a parking lot with PTs and a PTs hand-stamp gets you in free, but I have never found it worth the price. Good luck, and send me a line.

Many moons ago, when I was married to both my second and third wives there was a very pretty redhead named Skyy that knew all of the buttons to push with me. I believe that when I first met her she was 20 or so. I followed her to two more clubs over the course of a couple of marriages and three or four years. Then, like Keyser Soze, she disappeared. I saw her in the supermarket the other day. I have really not changed much, other than being a bit balder. She, on the other hand, changed immensely. She looked 50ish and an unknowing observer would have thought the two snot-noses with her were her grandkids. I recognized her from the quetzel tattoo on her shoulder blade. She still wore a navy blue bra. I caught her eye and smiled. She rolled her eyes and smiled and opened her arms as if to show me what she had been up to. Ouch. She looked terrible and old and tired. Maybe that is why they quit.