View Full Version : Why even go to the club?
Mik574
08-10-2006, 02:23 PM
...the Department of Homeland Security is on the way, he says. Apparently, single-handedly collapsing the US economy is a violation of the Patriot Act, punishable by 2,307 years in prison, during which your testicles are slowly twisted one complete revolution per day. Apparently, there's no right to a fair trial either. I pick myself up out of the couch and bolt out the back door before the DHS arrives. Fires burn on the streets as riots engulf the city. I need to get to Canada, no time to pack...
Alright, I got carried away. However, the $65 handjob, the entry into the clubs, the meeting with clothed women, and the swarming are all realities. So that's some of what goes on in the head of a guy who's not broke or an asshole. It takes a bit to get comfortable with how a club works, what to drink, how to tip, what's expected, the crowd, where you want to be in the club...and frankly just to get used to enjoying naked women. And even when we're interested in enjoying naked women, we don't necessarily want it every single second. We still want to relax and chill out a bit. We don't necessarily want a pussy whirlwind. Does that make sense?
Deogol
08-10-2006, 03:16 PM
...but is cut short by the sensation of cool air rushing through my zipper and the feel of a soft warm hand on my knob. Two minutes later, my still not fully erect wang is spraying the underside of the bar with man-mayo. The "stripper" is not put out at all that it drips back down off the bar and lands on her leg with an audible Splat! She wipes it off, pounds her drink and asks if I want another drink. Time to say words 3 & 4 of the night - "No, thanks." The bill is $65. I leave. I guess I didn't really have a use for the sperm, but the $65 might have been nice to keep.
Moving on from that experience, if the place is a Scores / Nexus Gold Club type place, I'm lead in by a hostess or bouncer. He/she leads me through the club. I'm the new meat. The scent of my blood is in the water. I get seated where the bouncer or hostess puts me. I'm a sitting duck. Here they come - waitresses, strippers, everbody working me - drinks what kind, what do they have, I want a martini, but not if it's $25 and "Cyndi" isn't going to be able to relay how I like it to the bar. Do I want a lap dance, stage dance, table dance, beaver on my nose, massage, cigar? The world starts spinning, my money is flying out of my wallet, sucked out by a vortex in the club. 45 minutes ago, I was in a meeting at work. The women wore clothes. I wasn't allowed to stare at their tits. I did anyway. I tried to hide it. It didn't work. They were mad. Now tits and asses and pussies are circling around me, bouncing off my head. Some don't appear to be attached to women, but probably are. There's a silicon spill. Hazmat is called in.
It's 7.5 minutes after I first sat down. I've seen 237 vaginas. I've spent $450 billion US. It's all in China now, having been traded by its respective recipients for cheap electronics that will be obsolete by the time I get up to take a piss. Alan Greenspan calls on the cell phone saying that I've pushed the Chinese trade imbalance to a critical level, collapsing the US economy. CON'T...
I call BS on this post because if you DID go take a piss, you would be remarking about the buckets for you to drop dollars into and a guy next to the door with his hand out as you dodged candy, breath mints and cheap cologne lying out on the counter as you asked the "towel keeper" to rip off a peice of paper for you to dry your hands off with.
Mik574
08-10-2006, 03:27 PM
Never pissed. DHS was on my tail, so I knew I had to bolt. My intent HAD BEEN to piss though. Alan's phone call put a stop to it.