Friday, April 24, 2009

Stupid Strippers.

I mean, I wouldn't expect a stripper to be a genius, but you would think that an IQ over 12 and at least 2 social skills woulnd't be too much to ask.

Right?

Wrong.

A few weeks ago, we all went to Wild West for Reagan's going away party - she needed one last dose of Tejas before moving to Colorado. So we all put on our apple bottom jeans and our boots with the spurs and prepared for a night of cowboy hats, country music, two-steppin' and cheap beer. Wild West is a magical place.

Our friend Lino showed up, late and wasted, and had a 'lovely' girl with him. We will call her Fluffy Aspen (because that's what my stripper name would be, using the first pet, first street combo). Fluffy was a stripper. Not only that, but Fluffy was a stripper that Lino had picked up AT THE STRIP CLUB just prior to arriving at Wild West.

Fluffy was a remarkable young lady.

As you all know, I have a scar on my forehead that looks kind of like a zit, or a mole or a birth mark, or what have you. Truthfully, I don't notice it anymore. It doesn't bother me - it hasn't bothered me for years.

But apparently it bothered Fluffy because when I joined the group to chat, she SPIT ON HER DRUNKEN STRIPPER HAND AND TRIED TO WIPE OFF MY DOT. She tried to wipe it off. SHE SPIT ON HER HAND AND TRIED TO WIPE THE SCAR OFF MY FORHEAD. Omg. I couldn't shower fast enough.

I'm pretty sure I have a staph infection on my forehead. There's a pretty good chance that my head will just fall off now...I mean, it's probably so infected. I'll probably die. Can syphillis be transferred through the forehead?

Thanks Lino. You owe me. You me big time.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

oh my.
Rule #1: Leave the strippers at the strip club.

Allison said...

I almost peed my pants reading this...