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The StripperHerder 2016 Year End Special. Or, Another Shitty Post About Stuff That Doesn't Matter.



  I realize that some of you may find this difficult to believe, but I have been accused a time or two of being a misogynist. I know, I was taken aback too. Pretty sure there's a much more apt word to describe me and that word is misanthrope. Learn it, love it, use it.


  Apparently the people who have accused me of misogyny either haven't read but one or two posts of my blog, or are the type of human to only remember what they find most offensive, such as when I talk about a certain girl's private parts as looking like some sort of primitive bivalve constructed by a child out of a weird colored play doh and clearly making a spirited attempt to escape her pelvis.


   For anyone who's read even half my posts, it should be self evident that I hate almost everyone, not just strippers. I'd be willing to bet that I spend a nearly equal amount of time and energy telling all you fine readers out there about the drunk, shambling ball-scratchers that I have to deal with every day as I do the annoying, hammered dancers. Whether you as a reader choose to accept that fact is entirely up to you, but a fact it remains and no amount of victimized whining will change that.







.                                    "That's a fact, son. Best leave it be. Never know if it has babies."






                                   "Nothing more savage than a cornered fact, boyo."





  So in an effort to alleviate the consternation of this small yet vocal minority, from this day forward, StripperHerder Enterprises™  LLC will be employing an ombudsman overseeing a crack team of literary anthropologists and satirmologists*1 who will ensure that I pick on both sexes 100% equally so as to avoid any excess feelings of pooty pang or butthurt.


  Therefore in 2017 it will be impossible for me to pick on one sex over another without receiving a crisply worded memo or a really critical email. Thus I will strive to keep doing what I've always done: shit on everyone, myself included, with a fair and equal depth, pungency and consistency.


 Although some spattering is inevitable.





                                                     I hate run on sentences.








        She's going home with me tonight!





  No she's not. You been had, buddy. She told four different guys she'd meet them after work and got money from all of them and you in advance, thereby negating the need to dispense sex acts in order to make a living. You were just dumb/hopeful/horny enough to buy into it. Shame on you.


  This happens pretty often. We notice a guy lurking in his car in the parking lot after closing and that poor bastard(s) is waiting for a dancer that is either:


A) Already long gone, or


B) Is prepared to stay in the club for as long as it takes the Floor Guys to chase off her would be john(s).




  Needless to say for my seasoned followers at least, I'm not real thrilled with this practice. At best it's not worth the minimal amount of money it adds to my weekly income, at worst it's going to get someone killed when some drunk fuckwit gets ripped off for $200 and decides to go all Wild West about it.


  And since it is one of my primary duties to escort our girls to their cars at the end of the night, this will eventually put me in the crosshairs. Unfortunate, since there is literally no way to stop dancers from doing this without permanently maiming them, which is unethical. So someday I'll likely either be shot or be forced to shoot someone else, or both, none of which is particularly appealing to me.




                                  "I WANT MY REASONABLY PRICED ANAL SEX, BITCH!"








                                  Looking back on 2016:




-Well done, you killed more celebrities than any year in recent memory and set the bar pretty high for 2017, I call that ambitious.


-You saw Trump elected and while that may spell the end of Murrika as we know it, at least we'll be living in interesting times.


-You were an abusive partner to my wallet, It's easy to slap around a beat up, ass-shaped piece of leather, huh?








          
      Meet some recent additions to the Dancer Corps:




Thundra: Shaped like a Stone Age Teutonic forest goddess, Thundra is a fantastically friendly gal who happens to be molded along the lines of an ideal Middle Age bride; strong as hell, capable of prolonged hard labor, nice wide hips, generous milk production capability, a general disregard of discomfort and adversity and a overall sense of 'it'll beallrightednedness around her.

  Awesome gal and a stellar example of great attitude



                                  Fact: Has more songs written about her butt than you do.





Milkweed: Super nice gal, admitted hippy. Milkweed isn't one of our hottest dancers, nor does she have one of the best bodies, but she has been graced by a stunning set of of blouse badgers and a sunny disposition.



                                                     "Just look down, honey."







'Lil Hatchet: Can't stand this bitch. Literally shaped like a tomahawk, all skinny with a sharp, prominent beak. yet much less fun to deal with. Looks like an unhealthy child with implants and a separate entity living on it's face that forces it to commit crimes.




                                     "Heroic firemen use me to smash through doors."






Princess Etheriel: Wears elf ears on the job. Seriously. Seems to do the whole cosplay thing as a gimmick but actually does it everywhere, 24/7. Possibility she may have talked herself into believing she's a fucking elf. Has geeks eating out of her hand despite the fact she's only a 6 on a good day and spends her free time journaling about trees and unicorns.


  Still like her, easy to deal with and she gets some of my obscure historical references.




                                                     "I'm +3 to fun! YAY!"




Kuttya: I can never remember which former soviet bloc state that Kuttya is from so I just call it Twazbeckistan and it makes her quite angry. Which is fun for me. She is a difficult stripper to work with in that she is pushy, bossy and generally off putting to her cornered prey, but her body sees her through most conflicts even if her face is only along for the ride. Some men just respond well to an angry Russian accented women's voice telling them to do stuff they're not sure about and Kuttya has an incredibly tuned net for finding those weak willed jellyfish.


  I respect and kinda fear Kuttya because I imagine she's got some crazy knife skills from her past life as a Chechan operative or KGB sleeper agent, but mostly because she tips good and encourages her marks to tip us as well.



  I'm easy to please like that.




                                                     "You tip me now, da?"
                                 






  Hope you enjoyed it, you animals. As I've alluded to before, I'm currently working on some other projects so keep your fingers crossed OR send me a bunch of money. Your call.




Ave Marina,
-The StripperHerder











*1 (Latin) Literally 'satire measurement specialist ' or a person hired by a misanthropic blog author to measure the amount of satire and/or complete horseshit the blog produces.