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Vinnie Jones Grabs Your Yam-Bag In A Malevolent Way, or, The Passing Of The Shit Encrusted Armor +6 To Self Servitude To A Truly Deserving Paladin



  You ever want to baste someone in chum and toss them in a gator pit?


  Yeah, me either.


  Other thoughts include:


  A) Some girls should thank god for the invention of the bra. There's a girl at work whose tits look like 2 fireman's boots full of tapioca and malt liquor. Other than pure mass there's nothing attractive about these sweater pigs. They point to Hell no matter what position her body is in and, I imagine, scurry deep in her armpits (still pointing to Hell) during missionary. There's no form to them, they're just lactation bags wrapped in skin.

  You could bang this girl doggy style on a 3 foot stepladder and her dilapidated milk wagons would still brush the carpet. She doesn't have sock titties, she has wetsuit titties. Her offspring (before the State took them away or she sold them for crack) must've weighed more than brown dwarfs for the sheer gravitational havoc they wreaked on her poor used up brat-feeders.

  They look like a Valkyrie's bra after she got in a fight with Magneto.




  B) Acting like a 9 year old ALL THE FUCKING TIME when you're in your twenties is really fucking annoying. There's this one dancer I want to give a plastic bag to and watch Darwinism happen. I have shit living in my bath tub drain that could outwit this bitch at every turn. She are not book smart, she are not street smart. She gets by on on small animal cunning, cuteness and the presence of Floor Assholes.

  She insists on behaving like a spoiled, mentally deficient child. To be near her is to crave something to hit her with.

  To just shut her up.

  You start envisioning all the incredibly fucked up shit you would perpetrate to just shut her up for even a minute.

  Her shrill, piping voice is like a sonic auger bit that cuts through the normal audio fog of a titty bar and penetrates deep into your reptilian brain which screams to your primal cortex to shut that bitch up before the smilodons* can zero in and eat your young.


  Does she have great tits?

  Yup.

  Would I bat them around like cat toys?

  Sure, provided she'd had a tracheotomy first or had been duct taped until I didn't have to hear her anymore or look at her scrunched up dwarf-Barbie face.

  Does she make domestic abuse seem reasonable?

  Yup. Commendable even.




  C) Welcome to the team, cunt!

  We had a girl start last week that seemed so nice at first. I had a feeling she might be a drugged out sellsnatch, but that doesn't necessarily make you a bad person.

  Except that this time it did. Girl thought she was immune to basic fucking rules. Kinda like Superman with ta tas and a hoo-ha.

  "I have to go now!" She was screaming at 2:15 in the morning*. "I don't have to tip no one out!" she brayed at us Floor Schleps. Manager told her otherwise. Then I watched this inebriated sperm-goblin order her sober friend, who'd already been waiting for almost an hour, out of the driver's seat because "You ain't driving my car!"

  This girl was a raging, wasted fucking twat and I sincerely hope she doesn't come back. Maybe she'll have some kind of accident. Possibly involving a medium sized whore-a-vore or an aggravated mastiff that had been abused by a thoughtless, blond el cunte just like her..

  Same difference. Different bite pattern.



  Look, that's all I have for you damn kids. Now get off my lawn. If you're serious come back next week and I'll let you paint my fence or wax my car or some other euphemism for giving me a handy and then maybe some day you can take the pebble from my hand.





  -P'Shing Fat An Tin,

  (Mandarin for 'StripperHerder')











*Really? OK, show of hands. How many had to look it up?**

  **Be honest



*Dancers can't leave after 2AM. If they're not out the door before 2, they have to stay until we're closed and we have cleared the lot.




P.S. Total side note here, I find I no longer like beers who's after taste is like an obscure Barvarian vegetable. I have been dumbed down and it saddens me. Damn you Labatt's.

ARRRRGGGGHHHHH! Crazy! Bitchy! Evil! Or, Put It On My Tab, Karma.



  We have some fucked up bitches at work. No really, I mean that. I know the stereotype of a well adjusted, totally non molested, focused and driven exotic dancer is what we all see when we skip on out to a strip club, but behind the scenes there are some seriously damaged broads slinging titty where I earn my living.



  And now I'm going to talk about them.

  Then I might hit you with some more Stripper Statistics*.



Fucked up bitch #1) I'll call her Hiroshima because she's like a Japanese town that looked up and said "I think something just fell off that plane." Far beyond trainwreck.

  This girl will also buy ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING that has Hello Kitty on it. Everything I have seen that she owns has Hello Kitty on it. She is freakishly amused by a line drawing of a cat with a bow in its fur. She drags around 17 bags and suitcases all emblazoned with HK logo. The bags outweigh her by a factor of at least 3 and her outfits can't be much larger than Barbie clothes, so what the hell is in all those bags?



     I would've used the picture of the Hello Kitty tampons here, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't need them anymore.



  If they made a Hello Kitty car she would buy one even though she (thankfully) doesn't drive. If she were to pilot a vehicle all oncoming traffic would be able to see is 2 tiny hands encrusted with Hello Kitty rings and a platinum blond wig in the same style as David Bowie's from Labyrinth poking up over the steering wheel. Then, like most female Asian drivers, she'd just have to guess what's going on in front of her and pray for luck.

  The rumor is that she's something like 48 years old, but since she still looks, acts and drinks like a 5 year old, everyone just assumes she's a creepy looking teenager whose partially deaf and weighs less than a bag of groceries.



                                      "My name is Hiroshima. I dance for you now. I know twicks."




Fucked up bitch #2) I'll refer to this one as SPORT, which is short for Stupid Puerto Overweight Rican Thief. I sincerely and deeply hate this braying snizz. She's not a bitch on wheels. She's a cunt on tank treads.




                                          "I know you isn't talkin bout me mow-a-fakka."




  This girl personifies everything I hate about strippers, my job and society in general. She is distilled and concentrated primordial evil, from beyond the Dawna Time. Someday her actions will write checks her cranial structure can't handle and she'll be found somewhere unsavory, bludgeoned messily into a plaid couch with 4 cats and an abandoned child eating her remains.

  I can only pray that I'll still be alive that day and able to put a vodka bottle to my lips. Even if I'm in a nursing home/sanatarium/government facility, I will party.

  I realize that this is bad karma for me. But I also feel that I've been shortchanged sometimes in the 'Good' column and that maybe Karma is holding the good stuff up as sort of a debit card system which means I just made a small withdrawal.



                     "A six pack of Labatts and one Wishing Misfortune On Others. Is that all for you today"?



  What makes her so hateable you ask? Its hard to convey with mere words. All I can offer you are small slices of the overall bitch brisket. Little glimpses into the standard operating protocals of a goddamn bitch.

  -She's a classic "I'll get you thrown out by security because you didn't buy a dance from me" girl.

  -She popped her drunk ass into the kitchen one night and asked if there was "anything she could take a bite outta?"

  -She was hammered as usual one night and walked down a row of tables pointing at customers and saying "fuck you and fuck you and fuck you and fuck you....."

  -She's also a classic drunk targeter. She'll drink some poor sod under the table and rifle his pockets while she's dancing. The she claims she did triple the amount of dances and has the bouncers get the money for her.*

  -She steals unguarded cell phones from tables. Shit, unguarded anything.






                                                           "MMMMMM-MMMM! Smell that evil..."




 I would also like to just give a quick salute to guys who knowingly fuck their coworkers over. Grow a pair of balls instead of shoving small customers around like a tough guy. Calling off work when the team is already down a guy is total bullshit.

  Way to fucking go.


-The StripperHerder




*I said 'might'.

*Until we stopped paying any attention to her or helping her in any way. She's been less overt now that she knows she's on her own.