Archive for the ‘Stripper Humor’ Category

Perversions of the Rich and Famous

Sunday, March 2nd, 2008

So, I ended up working the phones for an escort agency last night. 

In a nutshell…the details of how I ended up doing this aren’t very juicy…my hairdresser Gabbie used to do a bunch of local porn stars’ and escorts’ hair extensions.  After listening to them yap about how big a cut their agency collected from their clients ahem donations she decided to open her own ”phone answering and appointment comfirmation” service.  Gabbie no longer works in a salon since her answering service has the phones ringing off the hook 24-hours a day and is much more lucrative.

Don’t call me a stripper!

Monday, February 25th, 2008

I actually heard a (um) stripper say to a patron last week.

“I’m an exotic dancer.” she corrected him.

I joke that I’m an “exotic clothing removal engineer” because I wear exotic clothing….and then I remove it for a fee. 

However, I have never referred to myself as a “dancer.”  Probably because I can’t dance.  I’m a white girl from the suburbs.  I grew up listening to REM, Steve Miller Band, Bon Jovi and Bruce Springsteen.  Not exactly purveyors of the hottest dance tracks of the 80s.

Gives a whole new meaning to….

Saturday, February 23rd, 2008

 

I love the last hour of the night at CCP.  If a dancer is going to leave early, she has to be dressed and walked out by 1:15am.  I’d say 40% of the girls on night shift leave so they can “go to a bar” and/or “hang out with friends” on Friday and Saturday nights.  This reduces the supply of dancers to a crowd of guys who after saying “no” all night long are finally primed for purchase.  Hence, these two combined factors (decreased supply and increased demand) allow for better price negotiation.

Goin’ to Vegas

Tuesday, January 8th, 2008

I’ve got this Vegas thing down to a science.  Believe it or not, I’m a minimalist and can fit everything I need into one conveniently sized leopard print carry-on suitcase.  Not too obvious, huh? At least I refuse to wear the off-duty stripper uniform, the hot pink velour tracksuit, while traveling.  I actually have fun dressing up in my “professional businesswoman” clothes, putting my hair in a bun, wearing my reading glasses, and flipping open my laptop to CNBC while at the airport.

Avalon’s Panty Store

Friday, October 19th, 2007

Oct 19

Lets take trip to Avalon’s mailbox.  This letter comes from Devin in Mesa.  Devin only has ONE friend on myspace, and has been a member since yesterday!  Can we say CYBERSTALKER?

—————– Original Message —————–
From: Devin
Date: Oct 18, 2007 10:44 AM

For one you are extremely beautiful, and my question to you is simple, if I was to ask you to buy your pair of used panties would you be interested? Name a price within reason, and nothing more asked or expected just a simple friendly trade.

Saturday Stripper Humor

Saturday, October 6th, 2007

Enough of my insightful, through provoking posts.

Some of the sentences I never thought come out of my mouth until I was a stripper:

“Would you like to buy me while I’m on sale?”

“No more money, no more Avalon!  Bye bye.”

“Thats ok, you can charge me on your credit card!”

“Should I take my top off and wiggle for you now?”

“You need a blonde on your lap, don’t you?”

“I’m really a brunette on the inside!”

“Are you the breast man, the leg man, or the ass man?”

The great chicago experiment

Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007

 

The Great Chicago Experiment

Got back to AZ last night around midnight.  What a fun trip!  One of the better vacations (I mean business trips)we’ve had this year.  Met up with friends, enjoyed fantastic dining, caught a Cubs game at Wrigley, and attended an inspirational conference. 

On our last day, we had the opportunity to explore some of the tourist must-do’s of Chicago.  So we cabbed it to Millenium Park.  First we noshed on some chips, guacamole, duck tacos (yummy!) and mojitos at the outdoor Park Cafe. 

Are those real?

Saturday, May 26th, 2007

May 26

“Well, you aren’t imagining them.” is my standard response.

I love when they don’t get my sarcasm, and keep going on with the same silly question…”No really, are your boobs real?”

“Like I said, they’re not imaginary” I reply with a smile.

Whether it’s the beer or just plain stupidity, they ask the same question AGAIN.

At this point I usually let out an exasperated sigh and spell it out for the poor guy, “OK, what is the opposited of real?  Imaginary…..right?  Well…..they aren’t imaginary.”

Men.  They crack me up. 


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