Just wanted to pass along this link.  I found and ordered from this brand new Stripper Clothing Store.

I did a compare and contrast and hands down it has the best prices on the Internet!

I love my new belt…notice how the earrings and necklace match!

Been Mega-Busy this week! Here are some funny stripper cartoons I ran across!

After a long day of cleaning the house for Mom’ impending arrival, I thought I would refresh this oldie but goodie from the archives: June 27, 2007 to be exact.

Thanks mainly to the propaganda of ugly, flat-chested, Barbie doll-hating feminists, a single question is being asked by more and more people upon seeing a well-endowed woman:

Are they real?

The controversy arises not because the woman’s breasts are discolored, lopsided, furry, hexagonal, or metallic, but because they are simply large (and/or well-rounded). One question: since when are plastic surgeons installing holograms? Ok, so silicone isn’t natural, but it exists for Christ’s sake. Fake breasts are real in the sense that they aren’t illusions or made out of tofu. They’re there, aren’t they?

But let’s ignore this illogic. Generally, what people mean is: are the breasts natural? In other words: did they grow on their own, or was there some kind of intervention by man? The answer: who cares? Since when is a cave better than a house? Or a donkey better than a Ferrari? Or wild berries better than dinner at a French restaurant? What makes something less valuable just because man created it? God dammit, do the breasts look like breasts?

No?

Ok, in that case, we have a problem. If you happen to be looking at a pair of breasts and notice something odd (like, for example, the breasts are looking back at you), you may have inadvertently stumbled upon the bad boob job.

The question is, how can you be sure? Were the breasts accidental freaks of nature – or was it worse? Were they the products of some sick practical joke? Or mad scientist? Or visiting surgeon from the University of Baghdad? Before you attempt to go near the breasts, you must be certain that the breasts are reliable. For your own safety, we now present: The ten benchmarks of real breasts you can trust:

1. They look like breasts.

The breasts should serve to make the woman look attractive as a woman. Not as an elephant or a space alien. Therefore, if you’re tempted to feed the breasts peanuts or to report them to the FBI, you may be dealing with a bad boob job.

1. They feel like breasts.

It’s hard enough to get a woman’s bra off in a hurry. The last thing you want to find are two objects resembling rotten grapefruits or broken light bulbs. Also keep your ears open for women who discuss their breasts using words like “prickly”, “jagged edges”, or “squishy”.

1. They’re attached to a woman.

Women have breasts, so it makes sense that women should be the ones who augment their breasts. Not men, not five-year-olds, not Fifi your pet bunny rabbit. A corollary of this point is that the breasts should be attached to the woman at all times. Beware of breasts seen jettisoned into outer space. What you thought was a woman is most likely a reptilian cyborg porn star.

1. They come in pairs.

Ever sit in a seedy bar late at night, smoke blurring your vision as you finish your last sip of bourbon, when suddenly a lone breast asks you to dance? If it hasn’t happened yet, one word of advice: dance. While your instinct might be to run, do whatever the breast says. Peaceful breasts always stick together.

1. They don’t rattle when shaken.

When you hear strange noises coming from a car’s engine, isn’t that a good sign not to have sex with the automobile? Of course. Similarly, strange noises coming from breasts are also a sign of danger. If the rattling comes at regular intervals, sounding more like a ticking sound, drop the breasts and immediately run for cover.

They don’t taste like metal.

6. Getting friendly with an Eskimo woman shouldn’t entail getting your tongue frozen to her cleavage. Reliable breasts, both natural and artificial, have built-in mechanisms for dealing with extreme temperatures. Aluminum siding is not one of them.

1. When you squeeze them, they return to their original shape.

The ability to bounce back under extreme pressure is just as admirable in a woman’s breasts as it is in her character. Breasts with depressions, dents, or dimples can only mean one thing: they’re filled with sand or fiberglass and they’ve had at least one previous owner.

1. They rarely, if ever, excrete bright green fluids.

A bubbling, bright-green ooze is no more of a turn-on in the bedroom than it is in a nuclear power plant. Breasts which have had their safety-seals broken are not to be fooled with. Heck, if the breasts even have a safety seal I’d watch my step.

1. When their owner lies down, the breasts don’t remain standing.

It’s perfectly fine if part of the breasts are a bit stiff. However, if the breasts just refuse to make themselves comfortable, even in the face of a direct order, the breasts are simply not to be trusted.

1. The words “Made in China” are not stamped below the left nipple.

It’s astounding how many people inadvertently acquire sexual satisfaction at the expense of tens of thousands of Chinese political prisoners. It’s not only unethical to fondle a breast made in China, it’s downright risky. To be truly certain that a breast is of the highest quality, look for the “Made in the USA” label.

Once you’ve verified that a set of breasts have met these ten benchmarks, you are free to interact with them. This goes for all breasts, natural or not. Jesus Christ, if you can’t tell the difference, what do you care? Even if they are man-made, at least they’re being discreet about it.

So, what then is the proper response to a woman with unusually large, round, or perky breasts? Well, it ain’t “are they natural?” Instead, try a comment that shows her the respect she deserves. Like “thank you.”

10:23 PM – 5 Comments – 7 Kudos – Add Comment

Is my favorite roll at Blue Wasabi

Although I feel like a perv ordering it.
DIRTY SANCHEZ ROLL
Eel, avocado, krab, jalapeno and cream cheese, tempura’d with a
sweet soy glaze

I must admit, I had to google “dirty sanchez” to figure out its sexual innuendo.  How could someone name food after that??

After talking/texting/posting with my SuperStripper friends across the country, overall spending in the strip clubs is down.  Vegas is no exception, where The Nevada Gaming Control Board reported last week that revenue at the state’s casinos fell by 22 percent in October, compared with the same month last year. It was the 10th straight monthly decline — and the biggest ever. The story was even worse on the Las Vegas Strip, where the October take was down by 26 percent. The steep downturn has sparked a movement to lower the legal gambling age to 18. As a result

Word on the webboards is that many of the Vegas clubs are being overrun with pimps and OTC prostitutes who will offer more service for less premium to club patrons, while simultaneously attempting to poach less successful dancers.  Just last week at Babes we had a girl come in who had never danced before, yet she possesed a Scottsdale Adult Service Provider Card.  After a few drinks she leaked out that she had previously been working as an escort.  Personally, I’m more miffed that the the city of Scottsdale issues the same license to escorts as it does to topless entertainers.

As for escorts working in the clubs to drum up business, it’s just another sign o the times.  For entertainers who strictly don’t work outside of the club or do private shows/parties it presents another obstacle to navigate.

Nevertheless, it IS navigatable if you have the patience and  perseverance to sort through the patrons.  If you consistently apply the Dancerwealth.com system of closing sales, you will walk out profitable.

6:12 PM – 9 Comments – 5 Kudos – Add Comment

What is a SuperStripper?

SuperStrippers treat stripping like a business, not a job or a hobby. We have checking, savings, money market, retirement and brokerage accounts. We utilize the tax benefits of being a business owner. We have health insurance, life insurance, and disability insurance. We own our own homes and collect rental properties. We channel our cash flow from the Strip Club into investments and other assets to achieve passive income. Our ultimate goal is to have our passive income replace our earned income from dancing.

I’ve spent a great portion of the last week in doctors’ offices. Both for Mr. Vigliotti’s foot, and for my own get-it-in-by-the-end-of-the-year-to-before-the-deductible-rolls-over stuff. Before I sound like I’m complaining, I want to stress how importance health insurance is. I know A LOT of people who don’t have it. These are the same people who if faced with a medical emergency (which DO happen) will be put in dire financial straits.

One of the primary reasons I joined Wordventures was for access to group health insurance benefits. As the sole proprietor of AzAvalon Entertainment (how I file my stripping business taxes) I was paying a relatively high premium for health insurance. It was affordable, and the best I could find as a single policy. Once I was able to be part of a group’s bulk buying power, I could get more coverage for a much lower premium.

I had to laugh, my Dancerwealth business partner Adam commented “Why is that a ONE dollar bill in your hand?” about my new avatar pic taken last night at Babe’s. It was the beginning of a S-l-oooo-w night. Even SuperStrippers have nights when the prospects walking in the door aren’t very juicy. I almost called it a night when I had made my house fee back. Then I sold the un-sellable guy. The first time I talked to Brad, he prefaced the conversation with, “I grew up in strip clubs….I was was a bouncer, and a manger…dances don’t do anything for me.” So I thanked him for the four dollars he had tipped me onstage and graciously moved on.

About an hour later, I was onstage again. Brad tipped me again, “I take it back” he said, “I’ve gotta have a dance from you.”

Funny how it just takes that one small Victory to get the ball rolling!

I had my monthly massage with Sergi today.  We were talking about jobs way more sexual than stripping, but strangely more socially acceptable:

Massage Therapist: clients lay naked in a dark room under a sheet and while the therapist rubs them with scented oils.

Esthetician: Women (and men) lie spread eagle on a table while the esthetician applies hot wax to their privates.  Ditto for laser hair removal specialists.  Sergi was telling me how one of his massage clients constantly complains about her client who always gets an erection while the two female estheticians wax his pubic hair.

Colon Hydrotherapist: instruct and assist clients in inserting a tube up where the sun don’t shine, flush with warm water, rinse and repeat.

I’m sure there’s more.  I’m just peachy being what DangerousDiva describes as a “Sexual Illusionist”

Oh Richie

Update:  My timing is impeccable!  Christie’s won the Phoenix New Times Best Place to Sip Cristal award.  Sip away…just leave your car in the lot!

Richie Sambora arrested on suspicion of DUI

Associated Press
Mar. 26, 2008 12:00 AM

LAGUNA BEACH, Calif.- Bon Jovi lead guitarist Richie Sambora has been arrested in Laguna Beach, Calif., for investigation of driving under the influence of alcohol.

Sgt. Jason Kravetz says Sambora was arrested just before 11 p.m. Tuesday. Three females, including two minors, were in the black Hummer with him.

Sambora was booked at the Laguna Beach jail and released around 4 a.m. Wednesday. He was given notice to appear May 7 on one misdemeanor count of driving under the influence.

A Bon Jovi publicist didn’t immediately return a call for comment.

DON’T drive home if you’ve been drinking in VIP all night.  Arizona laws are not as lax as CA.

I was talking to a co-worker last night.  She told me she has spent about $20,000 in legal fees on her DUI.  On your first offense, you receive 15 days in jail.  For locals, you can get work release privileges.  No such luck for those on vacation…what a way to ruin your golf trip or Bike Week!

I have the Vegas thing down to a science: reserve the flight more than 14 days in advance, pack light and don’t check a bag, be a member of the rental car express plan, and ask for a quiet room away from the elevators.

Today, I breezed past the twisty line 30 people deep at Dollar rental car (easily an hour wait….I’ve done it before) to the Express member line on the car lot (zero line/zero wait.)  Dollar has a lot attendant direct you to a specific car.  He asks what kind you reserved, and if it’s available he gives it to you.  I always reserve an economy car for a whopping $18 a day with the Express member discount.  I never actually get el cheapo car due to my secret weapons.

“What kind of car do you want today sweetheart?” Jackson the parking lot attendant asked.

Clad in my hot pink terry cloth tracksuit (it’s 75 degrees, velour is out, terrycloth is in) I smiled at Jackson.  “Oh…..I dunnoooo….whatever you want to upgrade me to!” meanwhile   flipping hair, batting eyelashes…

Well, how ’bout this Ford Mustang right here.  I don’t want you to have to drag that big bag of yours all the way across the lot.” Jackson replied, opening the door.

“Thank you!”  In some cases…it’s stupid to act smart.

Boobs…they’re like coupons, but better!

I’ve never seen so many entertainers lose money due to a bad DJ as I did at Christie’s Cabaret last night. 

Due to strip club politics, Christie’s fired DJ Billy last month and replaced him with DJ Fabio from the Greensboro club.  There is no such thing as tenure or seniority in this business.  Basically if you are on corporate’s good side, you get brownie points.  DJ Fabio racked up a ton of brownie points over the last 10 years and wanted to move to Phoenix.  So, they fired DJ Billy to make room for DJ Fabio.  If it had been an even trade of talent, I would have no reason to complain. 

However, I expected Billy’s replacement to posess the delicate skills of word enunciation, voice inflection, pronunciation, and most importantly the ability to identify 3 minutes 15 seconds.  While sitting with Mike Brady on Friday night, we cracked up a gazillion times attempting to decipher the warbling that was broadcasting over the sound system.  During the extravaganza, all we could hear was “warble, warble warble….FREE…warble warble warble….TWENTY BUCKS, warble warble warble…ON THE HOUSE!”

The former teacher in me also surfaced.  DJ Fabio somehow lacked the ability to cue the girls when to walk down the main staircase for the extravaganza. When the first extravaganza became a huge clusterfuck of disorganized strippers lazily walking (and one tripping) down the staircase, housemom Jayne announced in the dressing room, “Everyone Follow Avalon.  She is going to demonstrate when to begin walking down the stairs!”  It was like a wedding rehearsal.  I stood at the top of the stairs waiting for the tell-tale duh,duh,duh, drumbeat of Motley Crue’s Girls Girls Girls.  Note: if you are a CCP dancer, and you dont know what the cue is to walk down the main staircase…go to my myspace profile.  I made Girls Girls Girls my theme song.  Listen and watch the time bar.  Your cue is after the three drumbeats at 0:15.

Last night I found my end of the night guy.  Davey was a such a little hottie.  I say little only because he was all of maybe 22 years old, out celebrating his buddy’s bachelor party.  Like a Snottsdale Cougar at Barcelona,  I pounced on him the second our eyes met. We went upstairs and when we sat down it was 1:51 am on the digital clock in the DJ booth.  

I’m very honest when I count dances.  I don’t acci-purposely say I did 4 dances when I only did 3.  In fact, when I do a bunch in a row I tend to lose track and underestimate how many dances I’ve done.  Davey and I were talking and laughing, and with young guys I’m more conscious of their budget. I reminded him after every two songs, “OK, we’re at 4, you don’t need to come up for air yet do you?” 

“No, I’ll keep you til close,” Davey said.

Sweet!  I thought.  Until DJ Fabio announced “Last song, last song of the night!”

What?  That’s Impossible!  I thought.  I glanced at the clock.  Lo and behold it was 2:14.  Now, time flies when you’re in VIP with someone you have good chemistry with….but 6 songs should not last 25 min!  (And no, I did not miscount.) 

The fact that I had negotiated my VIP dance rate (and Cutie Pie Davey tipped me on top of that) mitigated my losses, but if I was on the floor doing $10 dances to 5 minute songs I would have been majorly P-Oed!   A lot of girls left early because he had been playing 4-5 minute songs all night.  I really hadn’t noticed earlier because I was sitting with Freddie the Cop for an hour   (sidebar: if a customer openly tells you that he’s a cop….he is NOT a member of the Lap Dance Police.)  Freddie the Cop actually runs the DUI task force.  I’ve known him for 3 years.

So we talked it over with the new General Manager (sigh)  In the five years I’ve worked at CCP I’ve worked with seven different GMs.  Average length of tenure is 9 months.  I really like the new GM.  He has a lot of positive energy, great ideas, and a focus on team building.  Ironically he started on the same day as one of my favorite former mgrs, Mike G started in 2006.  I hope he stays.

I’m headed to Vegas for Con-Ag tomorrow.  This is the Construction and Agriculture Equipment show. 140,000 men who ride tractors.  It’s been a GREAT year for those in the corn, wheat, and soybean business.  Farmers tend to like big blondes too.  I booked my overpriced hotel room 2 months ago.  My new method of determining when to work in Vegas is by going to the Bellagio room rate calendar.  What is happening the weekend of May 17th?  The basic room at Bellagio is $799!

I tried to convince Kelly the Cotton Man from West Texas that he absolutely had to check out the newest gear for his John Deere.  No dice.  He and Bill will be in Phx for golf in April. 

So, if you are a guy who likes to ride tractors…and you happen to be in Vegas for Con-Ag this week…

Come find me at Treasures Monday, Tuesday and/or Wednesday night!