(367) i wish i could make you all see, without it all, you're lovely
Hired a stripper for a friend's 21st birthday.
Kind of new she wouldn't take it well in the end, even if I was enlisted to make sure she got drunk and to babysit until it was sundown. She cringed the whole time, and I felt kind of bad for her ... but at the same time, it's like ... she's twenty-one. Welcome to the world. But yeah. I was a good sport, and after everyone went around getting a dance from him, I finally conceded (after two more forced shots ... so much for that whole no more drinking alcohol bit) and sat down in the chair myself for my dance. But I DEMANDED that it not be Justin Timberlake. And instead got a little sugar poured on me in the form of icky stripper sweat.
Sigh. The college life.
And I wasn't even drunk. I almost wish I were, because it would have been more tolerable. But I was a good sport, I can say that at the least. A year ago, I don't even think I would have shown up for a stripper. Ah, sexual liberation. One step at a time.
On a side note, he totally had Rob Zombie's Living Dead Girl on his iPod, so I played it and danced on a chair as he made with the icky talk with some friends. Strippers should not be allowed to make out with people's necks, p.s. I'm pretty sure that was unnecesary.
Random note: apparently I have nice form. Will I EVER shed the whole "kinky" vibe thing? Brown hair, bangs and all? Maybe I should just embrace it.
Kind of new she wouldn't take it well in the end, even if I was enlisted to make sure she got drunk and to babysit until it was sundown. She cringed the whole time, and I felt kind of bad for her ... but at the same time, it's like ... she's twenty-one. Welcome to the world. But yeah. I was a good sport, and after everyone went around getting a dance from him, I finally conceded (after two more forced shots ... so much for that whole no more drinking alcohol bit) and sat down in the chair myself for my dance. But I DEMANDED that it not be Justin Timberlake. And instead got a little sugar poured on me in the form of icky stripper sweat.
Sigh. The college life.
And I wasn't even drunk. I almost wish I were, because it would have been more tolerable. But I was a good sport, I can say that at the least. A year ago, I don't even think I would have shown up for a stripper. Ah, sexual liberation. One step at a time.
On a side note, he totally had Rob Zombie's Living Dead Girl on his iPod, so I played it and danced on a chair as he made with the icky talk with some friends. Strippers should not be allowed to make out with people's necks, p.s. I'm pretty sure that was unnecesary.
Random note: apparently I have nice form. Will I EVER shed the whole "kinky" vibe thing? Brown hair, bangs and all? Maybe I should just embrace it.