Do:
Warm up that ass. There's no quicker
way to ruin the mood than when you grind
on my lap with what is essentially a
well shaped block of ice.
Do: Wash off that glitter
already. Nobody cares if your body is
sparkling, anymore than we care about
your sparkling personality. The stench
of your perfume can be explained away
by that queer guy in the carpool with
all of the gel in his hair: but a lap
full of glitter is a different story.
Do: Check those implants
regularly. Silicone implants have a
tendency to harden after a while, and
when you repeatedly whack a person in
the head with those cement melons it
can lead to Parkinson's disease. Just
like it did for Michael J. Fox.
Do: Take the night
off if you're bleeding. A g-string is
good. A tampon string...not so much.
Don't: Add an additional
charge for the hand job. When you get
a lap dance from a reputable stripper,
it's understood that a hand job is included.
There should not be an additional charge
for this. I went through the trouble
of cutting the lining out of my pockets,
it's really the least you can do. Putting
your knee in my crotch is not the answer.
It is as a direct result of years of
women kneeing me in the crotch that
I have ended up at the strip club in
the first place.
But I am a reasonable man. If someone
wants to shit on your head, that should
be extra. If they want to stick their
foot up your ass, this should also cost
more, even if they remove their shoes.
Don't: Talk about your
boyfriend, your five kids, or your irritable
bowel syndrome. These subjects are not
sexy. If you can't tell me about the
tickle fight in the dressing room, you
should probably just stick to the
fake moaning.
Don't: Get any more
bad tattoos or unnecessary piercings.
Your cunt shouldn't look like a pincushion,
and that crude tiger doesn't hide the
track marks on your arm any more than
that crooked tribal hides those stretch
marks across your ass.
Male strippers don't have any hang ups.
They let those horny, middle aged women
do whatever they want. They fuck those
old cows in the middle of the stage
and spray their spunk into the crowd
like human firehoses. I actually worked
as a male stripper briefly but the other
male strippers were too intimidated.
(and not solely by my ability to bust
a move.)
I hope this article has been helpful
to all of you strippers. I know your
job can be a grind, and it should be.
I'm just happy that I can help. That's
what I'm all about: helping people.
Written
& Submitted by
Gary
From TSHIRTHELL.com
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