Scratch and Sniff is not for Nudie Bars.

This weekend I visited the Yellow Rose gentlemen's club. I was a bit nervous, so I brought some body-builders. No really. The one girl had just won the world championship yesterday when she benched over 340 lbs. Anyways, her boyfriend that was there is also a refrigerator in stature. Not to mention the other dudes at our table who couldn't put their arms down at their sides. Colby was the little guy. Let's just say that when you add all this plus alcohol and a heaping cup o strippers you get some F-U-N. First, I got a dance by the one girl (who needed about 45 tacos and a better dye job) and was spotted doing THE ROBOT on stage followed by air guitar played on the wrong leg. She uh, hiked up my skirt, unbuttoned my shirt, licked my nostril and said something about corndogs. Then she bit my jaw and put her hand up my skirt and sniffed it. Then she said some crazy meth shit that was like, "I know you... I know you! I saw you in your mama's back yard tippin' cows!" WHAT?!!! Was there a lapdance involved? Well, if you call lifting up your weird lacey sportsbra to expose pancakes and pepperoni I guess that's stripping. It's dirty anyways. Oh my god. She licked my eye makeup off then and put my hand on her throat (cause this was supposed to be hot) and it was really hard not to squeeze... Whoa. Yeah, then the bodybuilder dude with us knocked over the next people's table. Drinks and all. Receivers of said disruption were less than jovial. All new drinks were bought; tables, strippers and other furniture were righted. Was that enough appeasement? Uh, no. Hey, guys, have you seen YOU? And, uh, have you seen the people at my table? The girl that is 5 foot 2 just bench-pressed your fuckin' cousin earlier today. Do you like breathing? Do you enjoy brainwaves? Apparently not. It was indeed time to leave. There was one chick in tears, 19-year-old mothers in short skirts gettin' tanked, bodybuilders being antagonized, and there I was without even anymore makeup on. Can we go now?? Even if none of this were actually happening, there was that one girl on stage with the sea-monster panties that was popping her booty-cheeks INDEPENDENTLY from one another. Dude. Five minutes to get beer at the store. BYE!

Oh Colby, let's go home honey and have a nice, relaxed... evening until 6am during which we make friends with the crying drunk neighbors who have a pool.

Freakin' AWESOME.