A Texan came into the club last night and told Hat-ma that this town is wierd. Really wierd. In fact, he’s staying at the nicest hotel in town and just last night a drunk eskimo came up to him in the parking lot and offered him seven pounds of weed in exchange for a ride to The North Pole.
This is especially funny if you happen to know that there is not even seven pounds of weed in this town at the moment and that North Pole is a town, not The North Pole.
A few weeks ago I was eating Chinese food with a couple stripper friends. We were talking about a fellow stripper who is always hugging on everyone and shoving her face in our boobs. Someone heard that she might be offering more contact than was standard at that club. “Well,” I said, “if her physical boundaries are so poor with other strippers, imagine how much worse they must be with people who are paying her to get naked and grind on their cocks.”
The waitress, behind me, dropped our food. Woops.
Some of my friends know me really well. I was going to D’s house in the big scary city, but it was late and I probably wasn’t going to get there until really late. We agreed that I’d just park in her driveway and we’d catch up in the morning. “Now honey. Don’t be offended, but I live in the city. I have neighbors and I can’t have you peeing in the bushes. If you need to use the toilet you just let yourself in, okay? Promise? Swear to me that you won’t pee in my yard.”
An older woman, a retired doctor, asked what I do for a living.
“I’m a stripper,” I said, crossing my fingers behind my back against any judgemental soapboxing.
“Oh.” She didn’t miss a beat. “That’s great! You’re providing an important service. A lot of people don’t know this, but Viagra doesn’t work at all if a man doesn’t have inspiration. You’re providing some inspiration for those men to pop a viagra and take a hard-on home to their wives!”