98 Degrees of Separation

So this past Sunday, some co-workers and I celebrated the departure of Trevor and Tim from the Fuel Family. Naturally, this meant a lot of carousing around town, bar to bar, in a limo while getting into some shenanigans. What is a limo but just a fancy school bus driving over two dozen drunk adults around acting like children. I had no clue the night would led us down Celebrity Lane but Allah must have been smiling down on us.

scene of the crime

Before we shuttled off to the strip club, we made a fateful pit stop at Social Wine Bar on East Bay Street. Upon entering, one of the first people I see was Nick Lachey. (that dude from 98 Degrees with the thinning hair who used to be married to Lane Bryant covergirl Jessica Simpson.) Accompanying Lachey, was current girlfriend Vanessa Manillo who grew up here in the lowcountry. It may have been the champagne or maybe it was the tequila that compelled me to walk over and talk to Vanessa Manilla just as Nick Ass-ey headed off to the pisser. We make small and just before our conversation ends she asks me my name, again, and then rubs the back of my hand to her cheek. That was very sweet and all but who the hell does that? She doesn't know me. I could have had shit on my hands!

whoops!

So I go back to join the others when, to my surprise, Nick Ass-ey comes storming by in a giant huff. Following behind him and his Ohioan cronies were two friends who were, as hip-hop types would say, crunk. Apparently, during their piss break they got into a pissing contest and it was clear that both sides were pissed. In no time flat, there he was, Mr. Chicken-of-the-Sea, angrily posted up outside, cursing, flipping them off & yelling at them to come out. It's no surprise that this city has been ranked #3 for both attractiveness and friendliness by Travel+Leisure Magazine.

Da Strip Club: an Education & Game!

So last week when I went to the strip club I thought of a great new game that guys and gals can play called GUESS WHICH STRIPPER/COCKTAIL SERVER IS PREGNANT! It's as fun as it sounds. So you walk into Jaguar's Gentlemen's Club and and try to distinguish between a few extra L-B's or a baby on board. Don't let the tranny slinging drinks and flinging 2 dollar bills at you distract you from the game at hand. You musn't let that sweet cheetah print carpeting distract you either. If you happen to be to be getting a lapdance and the hooker, er, stripper has her titties and torso against yours and you feel a kicking that ain't your penis tapping at your zipper, chances are she's packin' baby heat. Lastly, don't let any cigarette burns throw you off the trail because you know they will smoke until that water breaks.

Momma Said...

My mom is known for her sage phrases and tantrums, at least, amongst her children. Mary-isms as we call them. Here are just a few such classics:

Damn you kids, every time I take one step forward, you push me two steps back.

Can't you see I'm on the PHONE?

Can never have anything nice with you kids!

Great, my 15 year old's pregnant! [just kidding. Sorry Reyna!]

But my all time favorite is:

The older, the dumber!

______________________________________

I found out from a friend today that someone he use to date is now a stripper. Ain't nothing worse than a male stripper, gay or straight. Of course, my friend is a perturbed by this hilarious revelation. There's a fine line between retail and the strip club. It's a gateway job. You're usually one folded shirt away from pounding your genitals on the stage while an old man/lady tosses a $2 bill at you all the while thinking, Am I pretty now daddy? So, in an attempt to channel my mother, I passed on some helpful words to him that someone should have told his old flame around the time he got the birds and the bees talk.

you Fuck a stripper, you don't BE a stripper!