*Twat-Tarts. Pronounced twa-dirts. An Old English term for a bandyhoople.
I really tried to make some sort of clever post here. I had the best of intentions going into it. Honest, I really did.
But then I started getting drunk, my subject matter got totally kerfuckled, and next thing you know I'm set adrift on a sea of inability to write about something I know very little about. It became a conundrum.
The subject I had intended to tackle was Strippernomics, possibly featuring a flow chart.
All this became unobtainable when I realized by doing a bit of poking on the subject of 'economic principles', that all the rules that I memorized from my 7th grade economics class applied to macroeconomics. You know, the big, overall rules; supply and demand and all that.
The stuff that came up on my web search baffled and frightened me out of trying to do a 'Strippernomics' post. It seemed like real research might rear it's ugly head and I can't condone that, not in this blog.
So at that point I drank a little bit more vodka and decided to just post mean shit about random strippers that I don't like and it goes something like this.
Triumph, the ironically named stripper who isn't good at stripping but is awesome at ripping customers off.
I was having a smoke outside the club when I see this dumb stripper who works here pull into our parking lot and take up the exact middle of two parking spaces with her shitty twatwagon. I waited until she got out of her car and said "Are you really going to park like that? Directly in the middle of two spaces?"
She got out of her car and went around to the passenger side to see where she had parked in relation to that car. She made a noise like "Meh-eh!" and threw her purse into her car, fired it up and slammed it into reverse and with a mere 68 gear changes and corrections, finally got it into a single parking space.
I was proud of her and said so, yet she stormed by me claiming I made her 5 minutes late and that she was glad I was happy about it.
Well shucks, bitch. I nubs you too.
Fortunately for me, when she got into the club and decided it wasn't busy enough for her to work, she came back out and we had the following conversation:
Dancer: "You're a fucking asshole."
Me: "What about our children?"
Dancer: "You're always an asshole to me. Why? What the fuck did I do to you?"
Me: "You never tip, you have a shitty attitude and you constantly rip off customers forcing me to have to shake them down for money. You're a smelty cunt."
Dancer: "Fuck you, insert my name here. Go suck a cock!"
Me: "I would never deprive you of a post work spuzz-gobble, my dear, I have too much respect for you. Do you kiss your daughter with that jizz breath or do you gargle some Scope first?*1
Sunrise, another ironically named Stripper.
And then there was Protrudia
This girl is just plain gross. She really is, I'm not just being mean. She is visibly unattractive.
That being said I was talking to another Floor Grunt when I happened to glance in the direction of the stage and it wasn't good timing. Protrudia is laying on her back on the stage with her legs way in the air and it appeared she was smuggling a shar pei puppy in her thong there's so many wrinkles and folds all gnarled up and relishing the open air.
If this is what it looks like under your thong, please get a bigger thong.
Hatchet nose, suborbital ridge like a fucking Klingon and great brown capped udders wallowing about shamelessly. It was a fucking horror show.
I turned to my Floor Orc companion and said "I 100% honestly wouldn't fuck her if she was the last girl on earth. I'd rather microwave a cantaloupe."
He said "At least you'd get more flavor out of a cantaloupe."*3
"Flavor?" I said. "Licking any part of that bitches body would be only marginally better than tongue-cleaning the hot tub in the Detroit Lions locker room. I would rather lick the floor of a Free Clinic."
I wasn't lying, she's that gross. Lucky for her the only reason she needs to come into the club is to line up johns for her one girl prostitution ring.
And how about Quim, the world's 3rd angriest lesbian/alcoholic/professional slattern. Quim is ugly, tattooed like a Maori pirate and apparently comes in to work for the sole reason to fight with her girlfriend in someplace besides their apartment. I'm not sure what she does for a living because it certainly isn't stripping, she's too busy running back and forth between the bar and the smoking patio.
It takes a lot of work being a lazy barfly. I would hazard to guess that on the majority of nights she actually loses money by coming into "work". I know she's not a whore, at least not for men which leads me to believe that she sells drugs to the other dancers or pimps out her tiny, meek girlfriend and then beats her for being a whore.
If your 'official' weekly income look something like this:
Monday: 6 hours worked, -$38.00 earned
Tuesday: 5 1/2 hours worked, $27 earned
Wednesday: 8 hours worked, -$41 earned
Thursday: 5 hours worked, $60 earned
Friday: 3 hours worked (sent home after fighting with girlfriend) -$35 earned
Saturday: 12 hours worked, $81 earned
Sunday: 6 Hours worked, -$114 earned
Then something doesn't add up. Maybe she doesn't count handjobs as 'sex with men'.
I don't know. Fuck her.
"I'm an insane, pussy-craving drunk. You like my girlfriend?"
Natasha, the junkie Russian rip off artist.
I thought I had left all this sort of dancer scam bullshit behind at the last club I worked at, but alas it isn't so. Natasha the hot russian junkie is a habitual dance scammer. Heroin doesn't pay for itself, people.
She takes the total for how many dances she did for a customer and tacks on 2-5 additional dances she didn't actually do and then adds in a tip on top of it. So she'll come out of the dance rooms after 9 minutes and somehow the poor bastard owes her $180 instead of $75.
It's astounding how many times she pulls this off without the guy arguing. If it was me I'd tell her "You are mistaken, bitch." and give her what I owed her. This is because I'm not stupid enough to fall for her bullshit. If I go back for private dances, I will most certainly count the goddamn dances and I will abso-fucking-lutely not tip her, she already makes $20 for 3 minutes.
I don't make $20 for 3 minutes and never have.
Here's a tip for those of you who are stupid, cheap or bent on getting something for nothing:
As security (at least in this state) we can't put our hands on you without provocation, or so reads the letter of the law. In reality the spirit of the law is a little less clear, as in most of the time bouncers can drag you out of the club after they've informed you that you need to go and as long as you're not injured or killed in the process, the law generally falls on our side.*4
But the fact is we can't physically restrain you from leaving the club if a dance tab is in dispute and you're not being aggressive or assaulty. We can't put our hands on you, period.
Yet we do and we get away with it.
Ha-ha.
I'm not sure what the advice is except to try to get your fucking ass kicked by a club's security and then sue them for big cash, being reasonably assured that the club will settle out of court for a handsome sum and that you can then spend it on strippers and blow.*5
Hey, It's Future Me just popping in on a last ditch effort at editing long after I'd written most of the above stuff. You can tell by how the cohesion of the post steadily deteriorates that I was hammering back beers as I wrote it. I am also hammering back beers here in the Future, which is now the Present.
The actual advice I was going to give to anyone who's been ripped off by a dancer is to just walk out of the club, using peaceful but insistent resistance. Yet this is bullshit and a testament to my impairment at the time of writing.
You see, it simply never works out for the guy who's been ripped off by a dancer, at least in my experience. There have been recorded cases, yes, but they are so far few and between that you're more likely to photograph a chupacabra that you are to escape a dancer scam.
The advice is Just Pay Up and chalk it up as a learning experience. And here's why:
You never win.
That's it. That's the explanation. Think about it, you are
1) On camera, but are only going to be allowed access to the footage by nothing short of a court order or by the direct intervention of an angry Pagan God, therefore the club holds all the cards.
2) You've probably consumed alcohol which negatively affects your credibility. The ironic part of this is that the stripper who's ripped you off is probably way more hammered than you, but since it's part of their job description, it's seldom taken into account.
3) We know the cops that are going to respond if you want to call the police, which is your right. Most of them hang out here and a few of them work part time for us on the weekend, so good luck with that. When you're being a drunk douchebag it is absolutely amazing how many things you can be arrested for.
Furthermore, if you've fallen for this sort of horseshit more than once, then you're a desperately stupid motherfucker. Get a life man. It's only a matter of time until you're lured into a robbery in which you may or may not get shot to death.
-Der StrypenHierden
*! I didn't actually say this. What kind of monster do you think I am? What I really said was "You first, bitch."*2
*2 Pretty fucking weak, I know. It was like kicking a puppy.
*3 I really have no idea why he thought anyone would get more flavor out of a gourd fruit they were fucking than a barrel shaped ghetto ho with as much class as a Taliban girls school. He's sorta slowish.
*4 This is because our corporate legal team is like the offspring of Godzilla and an aircraft carrier: hungry, giant, savage and very organized.
*5 I am drunk and although I'm not proud of the fact, I thought I'd mention it and by inference hope you grasp how hard it is to type this and how many times I had to edit it just to produce this.
I really tried to make some sort of clever post here. I had the best of intentions going into it. Honest, I really did.
But then I started getting drunk, my subject matter got totally kerfuckled, and next thing you know I'm set adrift on a sea of inability to write about something I know very little about. It became a conundrum.
The subject I had intended to tackle was Strippernomics, possibly featuring a flow chart.
All this became unobtainable when I realized by doing a bit of poking on the subject of 'economic principles', that all the rules that I memorized from my 7th grade economics class applied to macroeconomics. You know, the big, overall rules; supply and demand and all that.
The stuff that came up on my web search baffled and frightened me out of trying to do a 'Strippernomics' post. It seemed like real research might rear it's ugly head and I can't condone that, not in this blog.
So at that point I drank a little bit more vodka and decided to just post mean shit about random strippers that I don't like and it goes something like this.
Triumph, the ironically named stripper who isn't good at stripping but is awesome at ripping customers off.
I was having a smoke outside the club when I see this dumb stripper who works here pull into our parking lot and take up the exact middle of two parking spaces with her shitty twatwagon. I waited until she got out of her car and said "Are you really going to park like that? Directly in the middle of two spaces?"
She got out of her car and went around to the passenger side to see where she had parked in relation to that car. She made a noise like "Meh-eh!" and threw her purse into her car, fired it up and slammed it into reverse and with a mere 68 gear changes and corrections, finally got it into a single parking space.
I was proud of her and said so, yet she stormed by me claiming I made her 5 minutes late and that she was glad I was happy about it.
Well shucks, bitch. I nubs you too.
Fortunately for me, when she got into the club and decided it wasn't busy enough for her to work, she came back out and we had the following conversation:
Dancer: "You're a fucking asshole."
Me: "What about our children?"
Dancer: "You're always an asshole to me. Why? What the fuck did I do to you?"
Me: "You never tip, you have a shitty attitude and you constantly rip off customers forcing me to have to shake them down for money. You're a smelty cunt."
Dancer: "Fuck you, insert my name here. Go suck a cock!"
Me: "I would never deprive you of a post work spuzz-gobble, my dear, I have too much respect for you. Do you kiss your daughter with that jizz breath or do you gargle some Scope first?*1
And then there was Protrudia
This girl is just plain gross. She really is, I'm not just being mean. She is visibly unattractive.
That being said I was talking to another Floor Grunt when I happened to glance in the direction of the stage and it wasn't good timing. Protrudia is laying on her back on the stage with her legs way in the air and it appeared she was smuggling a shar pei puppy in her thong there's so many wrinkles and folds all gnarled up and relishing the open air.
Hatchet nose, suborbital ridge like a fucking Klingon and great brown capped udders wallowing about shamelessly. It was a fucking horror show.
I turned to my Floor Orc companion and said "I 100% honestly wouldn't fuck her if she was the last girl on earth. I'd rather microwave a cantaloupe."
He said "At least you'd get more flavor out of a cantaloupe."*3
"Flavor?" I said. "Licking any part of that bitches body would be only marginally better than tongue-cleaning the hot tub in the Detroit Lions locker room. I would rather lick the floor of a Free Clinic."
I wasn't lying, she's that gross. Lucky for her the only reason she needs to come into the club is to line up johns for her one girl prostitution ring.
And how about Quim, the world's 3rd angriest lesbian/alcoholic/professional slattern. Quim is ugly, tattooed like a Maori pirate and apparently comes in to work for the sole reason to fight with her girlfriend in someplace besides their apartment. I'm not sure what she does for a living because it certainly isn't stripping, she's too busy running back and forth between the bar and the smoking patio.
It takes a lot of work being a lazy barfly. I would hazard to guess that on the majority of nights she actually loses money by coming into "work". I know she's not a whore, at least not for men which leads me to believe that she sells drugs to the other dancers or pimps out her tiny, meek girlfriend and then beats her for being a whore.
If your 'official' weekly income look something like this:
Monday: 6 hours worked, -$38.00 earned
Tuesday: 5 1/2 hours worked, $27 earned
Wednesday: 8 hours worked, -$41 earned
Thursday: 5 hours worked, $60 earned
Friday: 3 hours worked (sent home after fighting with girlfriend) -$35 earned
Saturday: 12 hours worked, $81 earned
Sunday: 6 Hours worked, -$114 earned
Then something doesn't add up. Maybe she doesn't count handjobs as 'sex with men'.
I don't know. Fuck her.
Natasha, the junkie Russian rip off artist.
I thought I had left all this sort of dancer scam bullshit behind at the last club I worked at, but alas it isn't so. Natasha the hot russian junkie is a habitual dance scammer. Heroin doesn't pay for itself, people.
She takes the total for how many dances she did for a customer and tacks on 2-5 additional dances she didn't actually do and then adds in a tip on top of it. So she'll come out of the dance rooms after 9 minutes and somehow the poor bastard owes her $180 instead of $75.
It's astounding how many times she pulls this off without the guy arguing. If it was me I'd tell her "You are mistaken, bitch." and give her what I owed her. This is because I'm not stupid enough to fall for her bullshit. If I go back for private dances, I will most certainly count the goddamn dances and I will abso-fucking-lutely not tip her, she already makes $20 for 3 minutes.
I don't make $20 for 3 minutes and never have.
Here's a tip for those of you who are stupid, cheap or bent on getting something for nothing:
As security (at least in this state) we can't put our hands on you without provocation, or so reads the letter of the law. In reality the spirit of the law is a little less clear, as in most of the time bouncers can drag you out of the club after they've informed you that you need to go and as long as you're not injured or killed in the process, the law generally falls on our side.*4
But the fact is we can't physically restrain you from leaving the club if a dance tab is in dispute and you're not being aggressive or assaulty. We can't put our hands on you, period.
Yet we do and we get away with it.
Ha-ha.
I'm not sure what the advice is except to try to get your fucking ass kicked by a club's security and then sue them for big cash, being reasonably assured that the club will settle out of court for a handsome sum and that you can then spend it on strippers and blow.*5
Hey, It's Future Me just popping in on a last ditch effort at editing long after I'd written most of the above stuff. You can tell by how the cohesion of the post steadily deteriorates that I was hammering back beers as I wrote it. I am also hammering back beers here in the Future, which is now the Present.
The actual advice I was going to give to anyone who's been ripped off by a dancer is to just walk out of the club, using peaceful but insistent resistance. Yet this is bullshit and a testament to my impairment at the time of writing.
You see, it simply never works out for the guy who's been ripped off by a dancer, at least in my experience. There have been recorded cases, yes, but they are so far few and between that you're more likely to photograph a chupacabra that you are to escape a dancer scam.
The advice is Just Pay Up and chalk it up as a learning experience. And here's why:
You never win.
That's it. That's the explanation. Think about it, you are
1) On camera, but are only going to be allowed access to the footage by nothing short of a court order or by the direct intervention of an angry Pagan God, therefore the club holds all the cards.
2) You've probably consumed alcohol which negatively affects your credibility. The ironic part of this is that the stripper who's ripped you off is probably way more hammered than you, but since it's part of their job description, it's seldom taken into account.
3) We know the cops that are going to respond if you want to call the police, which is your right. Most of them hang out here and a few of them work part time for us on the weekend, so good luck with that. When you're being a drunk douchebag it is absolutely amazing how many things you can be arrested for.
Furthermore, if you've fallen for this sort of horseshit more than once, then you're a desperately stupid motherfucker. Get a life man. It's only a matter of time until you're lured into a robbery in which you may or may not get shot to death.
-Der StrypenHierden
*! I didn't actually say this. What kind of monster do you think I am? What I really said was "You first, bitch."*2
*2 Pretty fucking weak, I know. It was like kicking a puppy.
*3 I really have no idea why he thought anyone would get more flavor out of a gourd fruit they were fucking than a barrel shaped ghetto ho with as much class as a Taliban girls school. He's sorta slowish.
*4 This is because our corporate legal team is like the offspring of Godzilla and an aircraft carrier: hungry, giant, savage and very organized.
*5 I am drunk and although I'm not proud of the fact, I thought I'd mention it and by inference hope you grasp how hard it is to type this and how many times I had to edit it just to produce this.
