Comments by Fenster (page 2)

Any club would benefit from having girls to suit all tastes. Clubs that consider themselves to be upscale might not want tatted, pierced, or thick girls, but they'd better have blondes and brunettes, and some tall and some petite girls. In Dallas, the blue-collar clubs will have a chubby girl who always makes a lot of money (as the Mexicans say: "the bone is for the dog- the meat is for the man"). White clubs will have customers that are looking for some brown sugar, without said sugar being as typically thick as in black clubs. Go upscale, and you'll find customers that grew up with racist parents, and are looking for some forbidden fruit.

The time-honored rules of being in the Diplomatic Corps are: 1) Never lie, 2) Never tell the entire truth, and 3) Never pass up an opportunity to go to the bathroom.

Romney is originally from Michigan, later from Massachusetts. A couple generations ago, most of his family fled to Mexico, so they could be polygamists, happily wearing their magic iunderwear. Having chosen poorly with regard to the auto industry bailouts (and is currently sticking to his guns, like McCain is sticking to his guns about selecting Palin), he shouldn't count on winning his home state.

A fav also worked in a hair salon. It was quite a drive (no telling how many dozens of barber shops I passed on the way), but I'd go to her to get a trim. Once, when she was managing the shop, she refused to charge me (in full view of the other staff). I really wanted to pay her, though. She was just so nice.

Right on, deogol. The club owner could just point out that all the naked people in his club are of age, have consented to be naked, and get paid. Unlike the business next door, which pays its employees to molest those who areare underage, then thinks that it shouldn't be required to report the offenders to the police, and instead just shuffles them around to a new feeding ground with fresh, new victims.

Someone should say something about how you now get to give her spongebaths. But I'll just say we're all hoping for a speedy and complete recovery.

Right on, Rod. My brother teaches biology at a community college, and once a semester has to chew out his creationist students for rolling their eyes and laughing off "evolution". They just don't get that you can't understand biology without understanding evolution.

Keep in mind that it's possible for either party to record the video chat, Senator.

Wow -- public lewdness is twice as bad as prostitution. Who knew?

The best part was the curse placed on the audience for cheering wildly when told that they're down to the last envelope. Such as: "May your favorite sister be named 'NFL Sack-of-the-Week'."

Nothing I'd like better than to be walking around a maximum security prison sportin wood ...

Yeah - that's what he told me at dinner tonight ....

Then again, maybe she's being smarter about it than Cindy Crawford was. You may remember that Cindy did a PG-13 shoot for Hef, then, ten years later, did a PG-(uh,15?) shoot, with just barely featured a profile silhouette of a (use your imagination) landing strip. What Cindy SHOULD have done was go back to Hef every year-and-a-half or so, and up the ante. She would have made an absolute mint, and maybe even gained co-ownership of the magazine. First shoot: artsy, obscured boobs. Second shoot: full-on, nekkid boobs. Third shoot: less artsy, more slutty: lingerie, some on, some off. Ten years later, K.D. Lang could fulfill her fantasies, and fuck Cindy with an ice dildo. By the time Cindy’s in Hustler, she’s a billionaire, tag-teaming that year’s Superb Owl Champs. And their wives/girlfriends. (Let’s see the commissioner sue me for that.) Had she worked it right, this would be The United States of Cindy.

She apparently demanded $1 million, and got it, but for that price, more should have been required. Like FULL frontal, maybe more than a single theme, even a guest star for some light girl-girl stuff. (I wonder what her old girlfriend Sam Ronson would do with her for $1million?) Maybe for $2 million, they could have shot some stuff too naughty for Playboy, and Hef could sell it to Larry Flint later to make even more money.

Lessons learned from going to clubs with a buddy and his wife (and other experiences): 1) It's all about her. You will not get a dance, or enjoy the sight of women, except for your girlfriend. 2) Your girlfriend will get horny as hell, but if she drinks too much, you'll be carrying her from the car to bed, and waking up with the bluest of balls. Let her start with some shots, but feed her, too, and cut off the alcohol at some point. She won't want to be sober, but you may want to point out to her that you don't want to have to bang her unconscious body later, and then post the video online. Her Daddy might see it. You're going to spend a lot of money, and she should understand that you'll need some relief afterwards. Or, you could just hope for the best. Which means, gatorade in the morning to rehydrate her, then wait a while for her to get over her hangover before banging her. 3) Access. Built-in bra? Only if it presents no impediment. 4) In the V.I.P., or if you take a girl home with you: ask your girlfriend how much she'd like some reverse cowgirl from you, with a talented, naked, hot stripper licking her business. (If you can't pull this off, please post an article lying about it. Thank you. In advance. From us all.) 5) Dancers will string you along. Once I heard a dancer say she could talk the manager into letting her leave early with us, so that she could get home at the regular time, so that her boyfriend wouldn’t catch on. This was intendend to get us to keep buying additional hours in the V.I.P. while she negotiated. Then, later, I helped my buddy pick his naked wife up off the bedroom floor (where she ended up, after undressing and passing out) and put her in bed. NOBODY got laid, except for the douche the stripper went home to. 6) Put a stripper pole in the bedroom. This could also be 1).

A Detroit club named "Spades"!? Was "Kitty's Krazy Klan" taken? Perhaps "Lynch Burg" would have gotten more free advertising ....

As Dennis Miller said re 72 virgins in Paradise: "A half-dozen orso in, I'm looking for a pro."

And, I wonder if they're going to add that to their pricelist: "Fuck our receptionist on the way down: $199 extra, plus tip."

Does watching the video get you into the Mile High Club?

Tell her that, due to a court order, you're required to provide her with pepper spray. And give her a 'safe word'; something like 'fuck me harder!'.

It can't be too long before '"Two Broke Girls" becomes "Two Girls Doing Something They're Not Terribly Proud Of".

At a generally blue-collar in Dallas, I ordered an imported beer. They served so little of that particular brand that they didn't have any cold that night. So, rather than offer me another choice, she brought me a warm Heiney, already opened so I couldn't refuse it, and a goblet full to the top with ice.

Simple - go with whichever one lets you take pictures to post here.

I was at a club getting dances out on the main floor, when the girl who had been doing dances at the next table over was suddenly frantically looking for her night's earnings. Eventually, one of the floor guys came over with a flashlight, but they never found the money. Presumably, another dancer walking by saw it while it's owner was dancing, and discretely picked it up. Or maybe she dropped it elsewhere, or maybe even her customer saw her take her eyes off it for a moment, and grabbed it. I would assume that a dancer has to have money to tip out, and pay a sitter when she gets home. I wouldn't want to keep money that she earned doing something that she doesn't enjoy. A friend once had all her money stolen in the dressing room, and to try to make enough for rent, she agreed to go to a customer's hotel with him, her first time doing more than just dancing. I was actually supposed to meet her the next morning, to help her load her TV into her car to take to a pawn shop (that's how bad off she was), but she didn't show, as she was still at the hotel. She told me that she ultimately chickened out, and I pretended to believe her. Once, I found a wad of about $80 near the bar at a club, and immediately told one of the bartenders. I figured that on slow night, that could be a girl's entire take, and showed it to a bartender. She was completely unconcerned, saying that it happens all the time. If I had seen a girl looking for it, I would have let her have it, maybe wanting a dance for it. If I had found $400, I would have sat and waited to see who was looking for it frantically, then given it to her. If she wanted to keep the karmic goodness flowing, I would have accepted any type of reward that she felt like offering.

Dancers away from the club, especially going to and from work, dress down to avoid attention. The typical outfit is baggy jeans and an oversized t-shirt. (It's also very common that they wear nothing under that uniform, to reduce how much laundry they have to do). Years ago, I was picking up a dancer to take her to a hockey game, and when she opened her door, she was wearing tiny little cutoffs, with a blouse tied around her waist (it was June in Dallas). I told her, "First of all, you look great. But, we're going to be sitting about ten feet from a 200 foot long slab of ice, so you might be more comfortable wearing something else." It must have been laundry day, because she took a really long time finding something else to wear. She finally came out of her bedroom wearing a slinky, skin-tight, long knit dress, almost to the floor. (She had said before that she never wore makeup except at work, so as to avoid unwanted attention. Neither of her outfits looked like she was trying to avoid attention.) A few times, the button between her handfulls would pop open, revealing that she wasn't wearing a bra. The funny thing, though, was the fact that she was clearly wearing her work undies. Because her bar was within 1000 ft of a pre-existing adult business, the girls had to have ruffles sewn onto their thongs to cover the upper half of their butts. Her dress was clingy enough to reveal those ruffles. I assume that she hadn't been wearing that same thing under her daisy dukes, but rather going commando. The dress she changed into would have looked better on her without her work-thong. She was so hot, because of her natural beauty at least as much as her outfit, that all night long, guys who saw her talked like construction workers, or yelled things to me by way of congratulations. Another dancer I knew in Dallas didn't own long pants, not even jeans, until she bought some in the middle of the winter. She was just a perpetually sexy little minx. I saw one exception to the dressing down going to and from work rule. A dancer leaving at the end of her day-shift was wearing a tight, short dress, and full makeup with dark red lipstick. A few months later, I saw her ad on Eros, so I guess she wanted to look, uh, "professional" at all times. (I just checked - her ad is still there, but she hasn't updated her age in about six years.)