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My Stripper Name

18 Jun

You have to wonder how hookers, porn stars, and strippers come up with their stage names.

I do, however, know that Jenna Jameson came up with her name because she wanted a JJ name and her brother suggested Jameson because they happened to be drinking Jameson whiskey at the time.  In fact, I know a lot of things about Jenna Jameson (other than she’s a porn star who is VERY lippy).  It’s incredible what you’ll learn by reading someone’s autobiography.  Coincidentally, although she’s a very savvy business woman, she’s also kind of stupid.  Shocker, I know.

Anyway, a few years aback some friends and I decided we’d come up with our own stripper names – just in case Corporate America didn’t pan out.  As I was drinking an iced mocha at the time, I was inspired.  The name I went with is “Cocoa Latte.”  Just imagine the house lights going down in some dingy ass bar and hearing the announcer say,

Ladies and gentlemen [even though it would only be 2 toothless strung out strippers, the manager, and some fat old clients] please put your hands together and welcome to the stage COCOA LATTE!

It’s gold!

What would your stripper name be?

“So There’s This Guy…”

1 May

Doesn’t the story always start off like that when you’re talking to one of your girlfriends or your Mary’s?

We met about 5 years ago when he was in one of my training classes.  I’d seen him around the way, he was funny in my class, and he began emailing with me.  Flirting with me, and I thought there was potential.  He invited me out for drinks, I was excited.  That’s when he laid it all out there: “I’m engaged,” he told me.  And my dream ended and I called it a day.  He was looking for one last fling and was sure that I would be that girl.

He was sorely disappointed when I rejected his advances.

We remained “friends”.  Our friendship essentially has consisted of him sexually harassing me when he’s hungover.  He makes advances at me, I giggle like a school girl, egg him on, and then that’s that.

He’s a pig.  And I love every second of it.

Daisy Chain

29 Apr

Why can’t you win a Pulitzer Prize for smutty television?  Seriously, VH-1 totally deserves an award.  How could anyone beat them with quality programming like “Rock of Love: Bus”, “For the Love of Money”, and most recently, “Daisy of Love.”

People, please tell me that you caught the trainwreck premiere of “Daisy of Love.”  And riddle me this: what the hell did she do to her top lip to make it not move?  And was it on purpose?

As the intelligent and sophisticated individuals that we are, Claude and I were enjoying a little email exchange on our thoughts on the program.  Most of the guys are f’ing tool bags (as you would have to be to be on a VH-1 show), but there are a couple that are doable-assuming that you get all your shots ahead of time.

This was Claude’s assessment on the hillbilly redneck, Big Rig: “sort of rough neck sexy, like force you against a wall in a dark alley, spit on it and shove it in kinda sexy. “

Claude, you disgust me.

Talk to me about 6 Gauge’s Prince Albert, and it’s a totally different story.  Man, is he foxy in a dirty, dirty way.  In that dirty way where you would totally do him and then take it to your grave because you would feel so ashamed afterwards.  Kind of like when your girlfriends used to grope you in the closet during slumber parties.  Not that I ever did that. 

As far as you know.

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Can I Borrow Your Coat Hanger?

10 Sep

The other night that I went out with Lit’l Smokey, we ran into Un-boyfriend.  They had never met before, but Lit’l Smokey had heard stories about him.  As we sat at the sushi bar, he asked me what his deal was.  I took it upon myself to inform him all about Un-boyfriend’s disgusting ex-girlfriend.  No, not me.  The other disgusting girlfriend: Skank.  She’s the one that epitomizes klassy with a k. 

As Lit’l Smokey listened to the stories, I can only describe the look on his face as sheer horror.  And nausea.

I originally posted the story of Skank back in March of 2007, but the story is so freaking awesome, that it needs to be re-posted for all you new comers.  I warn you, if you’re eating, I highly suggest that you stop before proceeding.

I’ve made several statements to the effect that girls can be pretty gross. In this posting, I’d like to share some details about the dirtiest whore I’ve ever met. We’ll call her Skank. Skank is the ex-girlfriend of Un-boyfriend, they dated a long time ago for over a year. As you continue reading this, I believe you’ll ask yourself a question I’ve asked myself many times, “What on earth could he possibly see in her?” (Aside from himself.) 

The other thing you’ll wonder is how on earth I know all these things. Un-boyfriend has a big mouth and told me everything. Now I’m here to share it with you.

You may think that I’m just being harsh, or jealous of this girl, but you are very wrong. This girl could have been crowned queen of the trailer park. She would have received her very own rhinestone tiara with a big fat K for Klassy (not classy) in the middle. Let me highlight for you why she is such a dirty skank:

  1. Un-boyfriend used to live in a 2 bedroom apartment and he had the master suite. The suite was set up with a bathroom that had the toilet and shower, however, the sink was located in the bedroom (between the bathroom and the closet). On the random occasion where they would “make the sweet love”, she would ask him to go down on her. If he said yes, which he usually would, she would jump out of bed, throw her leg up on the sink, and splash water on her naughty bits, then she’d run back to bed. I understand the idea of being clean, but I’m pretty sure that most partners don’t want to see us “cleansing” ourselves in such a matter (am I wrong here?). Anyway, on one occasion, she asked him if she “smelled”. He was honest and said that she could be cleaner. Her response was (wait for it), “If you order tuna, you’re going to get tuna.” Klassy.
  2. Skank didn’t like to be alone, not even when she went to the bathroom. In the event that nature called, she would go into the bathroom, leave the door open and ask Un-boyfriend to talk with her-even if she was dropping the kids off at the pool (so to speak). One day when she was through, she asked him if he had a coat hanger. When he asked her why, she told him that “it” wouldn’t flush. Not only did he give her the coat hanger, but he had to help her shove “it” down the toilet. Klassy. If you ask me, people should live their entire lives without ever having to help someone else get “it” to flush down the toilet.
  3. For whatever reason, she enjoyed farting in front of others. I was raised in a nice middle class family where you just don’t do that. As far as I’m concerned, ladies don’t pass gas and we certainly do not poop-we just hold it in forever and ever and then we die. One thing she highly enjoyed was crawling into Un-boyfriend’s lap, cuddling up with him, and then farting a very loud one on him. She thought this was incredibly amusing-the rest of the people in the room did not. The other thing (and this is wicked classy right here) she enjoyed was having farting contests–with her mother-in his car. KLASSY!

Sadly, their relationship ended. That’s another story unto itself, we’ll save it for a rainy day. My friends and I still very much enjoy talking about her and her disgusting habits-especially when Un-boyfriend is around. For whatever reason, he doesn’t find it very amusing. When we go out for sushi, I always remind him that “if you order tuna, you’re going to get tuna.” He never orders it.

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