Month: June 2010

  • Strip Club Free

    After a wildly successful Little Seany Boy Show, this past Saturday, Scott, Steve and I hung around at the upstairs lounge of Comix for our occasional chat about “whatever.”  Some days, we’ve been really deep into politics and stance on abortion.  Last night however, we spent the majority of the conversation telling Steve, “No, you’re not fat just because you outweigh Pat by 12 pounds, you’re just an inch taller than me.  Also, you may have a percent body-fat that is 1 or 2 percent higher.”  Steve was very adamant that he could not outweigh me.  I hope he doesn’t develop an eating disorder.

    Anyway, at some point, Steve suggested going to a strip club somewhere.  I don’t remember what the suggestion was, just that tits were in the proposal.  Scott and I were largely against it.  Scott and I have this thing called a budget.  Scott more so now, since he just got his own place in Astoria.  Personally, I see the strip club as a waste of money, and have been strip-club free for about 15 months or so.  Even then, I only went by because I knew some of the girls (so really 20 months since I was only dropping by to say hi).  Also, if I wanted to give a girl $20 (is that still the going rate for a lap dance?) to pretend to love me, and promptly leave me once I ran out of money, I would get married.**

    Anyway, while sitting at the bar (we were the only three people there), the bartender gets on a walkie-talkie and says, “The girls are here.”  Turns out that Comix was having a new event: Hunkamania.  Apparently, at the stroke of midnight, Comix would transform into a pumpkin, and by “pumpkin,” I mean a cesspool of estrogen fueled harpies, screaming for less-than-half-dressed men.  Needless to say, we got the hell out of there.  We would have stayed if the event were “Hulkamania.”

    Strangely, the majority of the women that arrived were not ugly looking, and would seem entirely able to pick up a guy.  It seems like they just wanted to go out and objectify men in a manner similar to the one that they seem so against when women are the recipients.  It’s much different than guys at a strip club for two reasons.  First, men aren’t loud, and it’s rarely a group event.  Second, at least when we leave the club, we don’t act like we aren’t the type of person that would go to those places.

    **Alternate joke: If I’m going to feed dollar bills to a slot, I expect to get candy or a soda.