There's nothing comedic about Joe's penis. At least, not to my knowledge. Joe's penis is about wonder, awe, and little chills running up your spine. So what is tying off, anyway?
That's practically it except for the clincher: they wrap a rubber band around their thigh, and lasso their erect shaft to it with the band so it looks longer after going flacid, removing it just before stage time. And that's probably the LEAST disgusting act I've caught male strippers in. They are fucking pigs. Aren't you all glad you asked now?
That's a fine observation, Aetius; and I hereby retract my drunken insolence and formally apologize and pay musical tribute to twopy. For those of you who haven't heard this version of 'The Star Spangled Banner', it's worth a moment of your time.
By being a disc jockey (in The Industry, of course). There are downsides to the job, and male reviews is my second least favourite thing about the job. They caused my only on-the-job fight in my life, they're disgusting megalomaniacs and date rapists. There is only one thing worse: Club promoters. FUCK. YOU. Literally the biggest douchebags who have EVER lived. They coined the phrase "douchebag". They are the most retarded, self-indulgent, shit-on-their-shoes, overbearing ignorant fucktwats. I have never met one that I have liked, and I never will. I hope you all feel the same.
That sounds really uncomfortable and potentially gangrenous. I'll take my stripper cocks sans tissue necrosis, please. Also, speaking of promoters. I updated AM on the Playboy love dodecahedron last night, and I just want y'all to know that Hef and Holly split years ago, and she's now been happily knocked up by a party promoter named Pasquale.
I usually don't have any interesting stories around the holidays, but I had a recent conversation that reminded me of this place: The night before Thanksgiving, I was at a small gathering at my friend's house, and I was outside talking with a few people as they took a smoke break. My friend's coworker, a very pretty and funny (at the same time!) brunette who was there with her boyfriend, posed this hypothetical to the group: "If your girlfriend was a smoker, became diagnosed with lung cancer while the two of you were together, and she had to get her voice box removed the way they talk about in those commercials, but every once in a while she would offer to let you fuck the hole in her throat as an alternative to regular oral sex, how would you respond?" She then took a long pull on her Virginia Slim and started laughing. Literally fucking your girlfriend's throat would be, naturally, a very special occasion, so we whittled the options down to three significant days of the year: your birthday, your anniversary, and Valentine's Day. V-Day almost didn't make the cut, but we decided that, as with all other things 2/14, everything can be solved with diamonds. Imagine this: what if you married your high school sweetheart to commemorate when you two met on Super Bowl Sunday, and you happen to share a birthday with George Washington (not the one who invented peanut butter)? Whoa! That would become Blowjob Sweeps Month for you and you alone. Every year, you would look forward to the month of February with a sense of glee that few could ever describe. These are among some of the important life questions that academia has never asked of me.
Is anyone watching the Lindsay Lohan Liz Taylor shitfest on Lifetime? This isn't even funny. It's just sad. Her research for the role must have consisted of watching some Youtube clips and smoking a pack of Camels. Mahogany isn't this wooden. I kind of wanted everyone in America to punch her in the face. Now I just wish she'd die peacefully and go away completely. The guy is doing a decent Richard Burton, though, the dialogue is giving me douchechills.
Really? No man's dick is small enough to fit in one those holes. Spoiler Black Jesus' forthcoming post to prove me wrong notwithstanding Even if it was, what man would admit to it, anyway?
But but, she's going to be in a movie with James Deen! Ow wait it's just another Brett Eston Ellis movie about the shallowness of LA. SNORE.
Do you think that would stop some couples from trying it, anyway? Remember, once upon a time, everyone thought anal sex was implausible. Oh, how wrong they were proven.
This. I haven't played this game since 2003. Making it more of a pain in the ass is being an out-of-state transfer student/military who has Wisconsin residency, but is stationed in the school's (North Carolina) state. I remember it being much less complicated 9 years ago is all. end rant. Catfish? No CatDog? Yes.
Um, okay...How about the one where the club promoter bribed three bouncers to throw out male customers all fucking night after they payed the $20 door cover? They would make up some fucking tired "You're too drunk" or "I saw you push that guy, I have witnesses!" then hustle them out the back. I mean, that's fucking stealing. You're flat-out mugging people, and hiding behind your apes. Pathetic. This particular fucking clown wanted every single woman on earth to himself. A sleaze bag par excellence who wore enough Drakar Noir to gag a Brazilian pimp from 50 feet. If he saw a woman he wanted, he'd have whatever guy she was talking to tossed out of the bar. He would let 6 women in his bar nights for every one guy. He was a fucking coward, too. He would pepper spray you with his little faggot rape spray if you so much as sneered back at him. Seeing a pissed-off customer hit with their car in the parking lot literally made me prematurely ejaculate. He went over the hood onto the concrete, and I couldn't stop laughing. HIM: (dusting himself off) "What's so fucking funny, asshole?" ME: "I've wished death on you for so long, and it finally almost happened!" I know for a fact this goony bird was a GHB slinger and wannabe criminal. A sad, stupid fuck that would make you hate life after being in the room for ten minutes with him. That's one promoter. Not the worst.
Hmm, maybe that's why I've been tossed out of so many bars/clubs. I knew I wasn't THAT drunk... (But I've never paid a $20 cover; does that come with a hand-job?!)
It's a widely-used and shockingly unknown scam that nightclubs pull. It has to be a place with a cover and high prices for stupid bullshit: VIPS, Table fees, etc. Anywhere where they can get money on you before you even fucking sit down, they have the rent-a-goons toss the men as often as possible. It's always the club promoter or manager pulling the levers on that slimebag move. It's theft, that's all it is. You can't call the cops, they instantly side with the "Security" and not the "Drunk assholes". The best thing you can do is what my cousin did: find out where the staff parks and remove every single mount from the rims of their cars with a tire iron. Then wait till around 2:30 a.m. for the show of a lifetime.