A Night at the D.I.

[Exterior, a dark wood, 3:00 PM]

TWBS wakes up, startled.  He doesn’t remember where he is or how he got here.  He searches for his phone, but there is no signal.  For some reason, this song is playing, at full volume:

TWBS (scared):  Helloooo?  Is anyone out there?

There is no answer. The forest is so thick that the sun can’t get through to the undergrowth.  TWBS is really starting to freak out now, so he starts running in a random direction. In a few minutes, he sees a hill bathed in sunlight and runs towards it.  Right before he reaches it, he sees a mountain lion, a coyote, and a gopher snake in his path.  He instantly turns back towards the darkness.


At that moment, Ballsofsteelandfury shows up in front of him.

Balls:  Dude, you alright?

TWBS:  Oh Thank Fuck you’re here!  What the fuck happened?  Did you see the mountain lion?

Balls: Nope.

TWBS:  The coyote?

Balls: Nope.

TWBS: The snake?!?

Balls: Nope.

TWBS:  Seriously???

Balls:  Nah, I’m just fucking with you.  Yeah, I see them up ahead.  Don’t worry.  I know another way.

Balls leads TWBS through the dark forest in a different direction.  The going is slow and the sun soon sets.  They continue walking.

Balls: You feeling better now?

TWBS:  Yes, though I still don’t know how you managed to show up and where the fuck we are.

Balls: I told you to lay off the weed, man!  We went hiking in the San Gabriel mountains and you got high and sort of wandered off and then I found you freaked out about to become mountain lion shit.

TWBS: Oh…  It’s all Litre_cola’s fault!

Balls:  Yeah, whatever.  Anyway, we’re not going back the same way we came. This way is better.  There is a club at the foothills that we will go through.  It’s unlike any club you’ve ever been to.

TWBS: What do you mean?

Balls:  Dude, it’s like multilevel and built on a cliff and they play like all kinds of music and it’s all chutes and ladders and shit!  Except without the ladders.

TWBS:  Dude, did you get into Litre_cola’s cookies?

Balls:  Shut up.  You’ll see.

TWBS:  Dude, have you seen the way we’re dressed?

Balls:  No worries, there’s no dress code.

After another hour of hiking, the two reach the top of a ridge. It’s dark, so they cannot see the bottom. On the left is the club. It is one story high from the ridge, but extends downward into the abyss.  Kinda like the Titty Twister in From Dusk Till Dawn except it extends downward farther:

Also, instead of Cheech yelling at customers to get inside,

there are a bunch of people gathered outside, not sure whether they want to pay the cover price. A cloud of mosquitoes and flying bugs from the nearby pond pick at them mercilessly.

Balls:  Follow me and let’s move through here quick. I don’t know what their problem is.  (to the crowd): Shit or get off the pot, assholes!

At the front door, a burly doorman asks them for ID.  He has an old name tag with only the letters “Char” in white and is otherwise dressed in the typical doorman’s uniform of all black.

TWBS (under his breath):  Nice name tag, dipshit.

Doorman:  Did you say something to me?  Balls, what’s this guy’s problem?

Balls: Shit.  Sorry, man.  He’s had a rough day.  We should be on the VIP guestlist.  My girl hooked it up.

Doorman:  Ok.  Just for you and your girl.  But tell his ass he needs to watch his mouth.  Once inside, he’s not going to run into people as nice as me.

Balls:  You got it.  Good to see you!

Balls gives the Doorman a fist bump and pushes TWBS inside.

TWBS:  Oops.  Sorry, dude.

Balls:  Just watch it.  He’s right.  There are some real assholes in here.  You say the wrong thing to the wrong person and it’s a mess I’d rather not deal with.  Cool?

TWBS (sheepishly):  Cool.

As they enter the club, TWBS notices a sign above.

TWBS:  Hey, isn’t that the sign from Disneyland?

Balls:  Good eye!  I think they got it after the Pirates of the Caribbean ride got “remodeled”.  I hear it’s all based on the movie now.

TWBS:  Yeah, the old wench auction is gone.  It’s not the same.

Balls:  It’s a shame…

Even though it is dark outside, it still takes them awhile for their eyes to adjust. It is pitch dark and random shapes glow in the black light.  Just like a strip club.

Balls leads TWBS through a dark hallway lit only with emergency glowing tape on the floor.  At the end, he pulls aside a curtain to reveal an open dance floor packed with people.  Visible on the walls is the letter “I”.

The Punk Room

As they enter, a song is loudly playing:

and a group of people are trying to get a mosh pit going. About five of them are wearing Cleveland Browns jerseys.


Balls:  What?

TWBS:  What’s with the Clev.. wait, is that Aqib Talib?!?

Balls:  Not to sound racist, but I’m surprised you recognized him.

TWBS:  Fuck you.  Hippo has made it so I know all the Denver Broncos by face. Past and present.

Balls:  So, I take it then that you didn’t notice that Mohamed Sanu and Ameer Abdullah are right behind him knocking the shit out of little white punk kids?

TWBS: No, I didn’t and no I’m not racist.

Balls:  I know you’re not. As you’ll notice later, this is a big NFL hangout.  Wanna say hi or get their autographs?

TWBS:  Shut up. No.  Hey, I’m kinda hungry.  Do they have any food here?

Balls:  Not at this level.  Shall we move to the next one?

TWBS:  Yeah, this song is kinda getting annoying.

The two move past the mosh pit to the far side of the room where there is a slide that leads into a wall.  Like at Señor Frog’s in Cancún:

TWBS:  What the shit, man?  Is this the only way out?

Balls:  Yup!  Remember I told you it’s all chutes and ladders and shit?

TWBS:  I didn’t think you meant that literally.  What if we want to go back?

Balls:  Like I said, no ladders.  No going back.

TWBS:  That doesn’t sound very ADA-compliant!

Balls (laughing to the point he’s coughing):  ADA?  Yeah, not even close!

TWBS (nervously):  Um, you go first?

Balls:  Yeah, no worries.  Follow me.

Balls enters the slide, grabs the handrails on the side, and pulls himself down.  TWBS quickly follows.  It is pitch dark inside the slide and the sounds of Halloween screams are piped in to drown out the music from the previous level.  The slide goes down in a circular pattern although it does twist and turn a bit on the way down.  The two emerge onto a landing below.

TWBS:  Weeeeeee!!!  Dude, that’s pretty fun!

Balls:  Right?!?

The RnB Room

As they get up, they again follow a dark hallway that ends at a curtain.  On the curtain are written the letters “II”. A dark figure stands before it, blocking their way.

Balls:  Excuse me.

Dark Figure: Five dollars.

Balls (looking at the figure closely):  Minnie, I KNOW you didn’t just ask me for five dollars to get in!

Dark Figure:  Oh shit. I didn’t realize it was you, Balls.  My bad.

The Dark Figure steps aside and Balls pulls the curtain to reveal a room bathed in red and purple light.  It is hot even though the AC is cranking at top capacity. The dance floor is full of bodies writhing to the beat of this song:

Porn images are projected onto the walls. All kinds.  Like seriously all kinds.

TWBS:  Holy shit!

Balls:  Right?

The two make their way through the writhing mass. As they wind their way through, they find their asses getting grabbed and pinched.  Random hands reach towards their junk.

TWBS:  This… is NOT what I was expecting.

Balls:  Let’s find a little pocket to get some breathing room. This way.

They find a small space underneath the AC vent.  The cool air feels good as they are now sweating from the heat. They take a second to survey the scene.

TWBS: Dude, are those people in that corner…

Balls:  Yeah, they are.

TWBS:  Damn. (looking towards the other corner) Hey, is that Marshall Faulk?

In the opposite corner, Marshall Faulk is dancing with some random girl.  Nearby are Travis Henry, Willis McGahee, and Antonio Cromartie.

Balls:  Yup.  Explains a lot, doesn’t it?

A girl in a Houston 500s t-shirt comes up to TWBS.

Girl:  Hi baby!  You’re cute!  Wanna go skiing?

TWBS (caught off-guard and not really listening): Uh, what?

Balls (to the girl): He’s good. (to TWBS): Let’s get out of here before we get into trouble.

TWBS:  But we just got here!!!  And she purty!

Balls:  Trust me.  We need to move on. Besides, you said you were hungry, right? You go into the slide first this time.

The two move on again through the mass of bodies until they reach the end of the room and the next slide.  TWBS takes one last look, sighs, and reluctantly pulls himself down the slide with Balls quickly following. The screams in the slide make TWBS temporarily forget all about the previous room.  The duo emerges onto another platform, walk through another hallway and then come upon a curtain with a “III” on it.

TWBS: And behind door number three we have!

The Hip Hop Room

TWBS pulls the curtain to reveal a room bathed in green light.  There are a bunch of tables set up along one wall of the room with warming dishes full of food. Like a strip club buffet.

On the opposite side is a bar with bottles covering the entire wall and a station with frozen dacquiri dispensers.  The entire setup is serve-yourself.  In the middle is a small dance floor with the rest of the room taken by small tables where people are eating.

This song is playing:

TWBS heads directly to the food and grabs a plate.  Balls finds a small table on the edge of the dance floor and waits for TWBS.

TWBS (ravenously eyeing the food on offer):  What should I get?  Fried chicken or pasta?  YES PLEASE!

A large man bumps into TWBS on his way down the line.

TWBS:  Hey man, what’s your pr…. FRIDGE!!

William Perry: Sorry, man.  Gotta get my food on.

TWBS:  Figures.  Like a typical Clemson asshole!

Perry:  Excuse me, what now?

TWBS:  Ya heard me, you fat piece of crap!  Walter Payton deserved those touchdowns!!

Perry: Just because I love Walter, I’m going to let this go.  Otherwise, you’d be dead already. Now, if you don’t mind, Imma grab the last piece of peach cobbler before Haynesworth gets here.

TWBS (sarcastically):  Nice to meet you!

Perry points to the wall.  An orange Clemson paw is stenciled on it.

TWBS: Asshooooole!

TWBS fills up his plate and heads to the table where Balls is sitting.  There are two Bloody Marys on the table.

TWBS:  Dude!  I just called Refrigerator Perry an asshole!

Balls:  Yeah, I saw that!  I was just getting ready to go over there and rescue you. How are you still alive?

TWBS:  Meh, he seemed to be in a hurry to get back to eat, that fat fuck.

Balls:  Well, at his table he’s got Albert Haynesworth, Jamarcus Russell, and Eddie Lacy.  I’m sure he wanted to make sure he got to the dessert table before them.

TWBS:  How did you…?

Balls:  Just try to eat light.  You do NOT want to take a shit in this club!

TWBS:  Duly noted.  You’re not eating anything?

Balls: Nah, I’m good.  They have the best Bloody Marys here.

TWBS finishes his food and his Bloody Mary.  Afterwards, he rips a tremendous fart.

Balls:  Good stuff, eh?

TWBS:  Yeah.  I might need to start walking though.  I may pass out otherwise.

Balls:  Ok, follow me.

The two get up from the table and make their way past the other tables towards the end of the room.  The floor is incredibly filthy with leftovers and food being thrown down on the ground by the patrons.

Balls:  Um, needless to say, watch your step.

TWBS (stepping on something squishy):  Ugh! Yeah, thanks for the warning!

The pair finally arrive at the end of the room.  Balls starts scraping the bottom of his shoes against the wall to get the muck off.  TWBS follows suit and they quickly get into the slide.

The Metal Room

After the descent and the now-familiar hallway, they reach a curtain labeled “IV”.  Someone has painted in white glowing paint an “H” on the left wall.

TWBS:  What’s that about?

Balls: That’s P’s idea of a joke.  And a stupid attempt by him to prevent people from entering. Don’t worry about it.

TWBS:  One, you know I hate it when you say that.  Two, who’s P?

Balls:  An asshole.

Balls pulls aside the curtain and they are greeted with this song at full blast:

There are two bars, one in each side of the room, which is bathed in orange light.  At the bar on the left, rows and rows of rich kids are doing various drugs and snorting coke using $100 bills that they promptly toss away onto the floor.  On the bar to the right, a few solitary figures sit quietly sipping their drinks. Women are clutching tight to their purses while the men eye cautiously around the room, as if anyone and everyone is about to rob them.  Whenever they see a cokey-$100 bill, they all rush to pick it up off the ground before the others.

TWBS (looking at the scene): What’s wrong with these people?

Balls:  I’ll give you one clue.  Do you recognize that man in the suit and tie over there?

TWBS: Is that Mike Brown from the Bungles?

Balls:  Yup.  Now, look to your left.

TWBS (turns around):  Pacman!  CHOO CHOO!

Balls:  With Josh Gordon and Johnny Fooking Football. Are you seeing it?

TWBS:  Not really.

Balls:  Well, this isn’t really your scene, so I don’t blame you.

TWBS:  Should I be offended by that?

Balls:  Quite the opposite.  Let’s get the fuck out of here.  These people disgust me.

TWBS: I still don’t understand, but ok.

The two make their way to the end of the room and get into the slide. At the end of the hallway, they open the curtain marked “V” and enter a room with a huge water fountain in the middle lit by blue spotlights.

The Classic Rock Room

This song plays over the speakers:

As they walk in, they see Tom Brady, Phillip Rivers, and Bill Cowher sitting on the edge of the water fountain, loudly arguing.

Tom Brady: There is no fucking way I cheated!

Phillip Rivers:  You know exactly what you did!

Bill Cowher: Motherfucking Neil O’Donnell!!!

Brady: He’s not even here, you idiot!  Hey, Marmalard, see that dead fish over there?  He floats better than your passes!

Rivers:  Why you little…

Rivers lunges at Brady but Cowher steps in between.

Cowher:  Don’t you hurt Big Ben!

Rivers and Brady look at each other, confused.  Then they both lunge at Cowher.

TWBS (to Balls):  Um, what did we just walk into?

Balls:  I don’t even want to know. Follow me.

The two make their way around the big fountain past the fighting football players and notice almost everyone in the room is locked in an argument.  They reach the end of the room, but notice that the slide opening has an iron gate on it. There are two people guarding the gate and, upon seeing Balls and TWBS, promptly close and lock it.

TWBS (nervously):  What now?!?

Balls:  Relax, let me speak with them.

Balls approaches the two and speaks with them in a low voice that TWBS can’t hear.  Seemingly having no luck, he returns to where TWBS is standing.

TWBS: Um, what happened?

Balls (slightly surprised): That did not go as planned.  Don’t worry, though.  I’ll call someone.  (pulling out his cell phone, tapping on it, and then speaking into it):  Hi!  Hey the gate is closed and there are these two assholes not letting us through. Can you please send someone down?  Thanks!

TWBS (getting increasingly nervous now):  Who was that?  Are we going to be able to get out of here?!?

Balls:  Relax.  We’ve got help coming.  It’s just a matter of a little time.

The two wait.  And wait.  And wait. Help is not coming and even Balls is getting a little worried. Three women approach them.  They are Megan Olivi, Alex Flanagan, and Tracey Wolfson. They are angry about something.

Tracey (to TWBS):  Were you just staring at my tits?!?

TWBS (stammering): Uh, um…

Balls: Dude, seriously?

TWBS: Shut up, you’re not helping!

Megan: Do you know how it feels to be objectified and judged based on looks alone?

Balls (to TWBS):  Don’t answer that. (to Megan): Can I please apologize for…

Alex: Decades, no CENTURIES of harrassment and abuse by men in power?

Balls (under his breath):  Fuck, where IS he?!?

Megan: Call M!  She’ll deal with these two!

Balls (to TWBS):  Oh oh.  Just keep your head down and don’t say or do anything.

At that exact moment, a loud laugh could be heard.

Ryan Reynolds:  Balls, what the fuck are YOU doing here in this piece of shit club?!?

Balls:  Oh, thank God!  Dude, just in time!

Ryan:  Yeah, I was going to wait a little bit more to see what you said to them, but I figured you’ve had enough.

Ryan Reynolds approaches the three women.

Ryan:  Ladies, I do apologize for my uncouth friend and his friend.  They meant no harm.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to open the gate for them.

Tracey, Alex, and Megan step aside and then walk to the other end of the room.

Ryan:  Alright fellas, you’re good to go.  I personally don’t know why you decided to come to this shithole, but there you go.

Balls:  Um, we don’t have Blake to go home to.

Ryan:  Yeah, you don’t.  Later Taters!

With that, Ryan turns around in disgust and Balls and TWBS pull themselves down the slide.  When they arrive at the landing, a big “VI” is painted on the wall.  There is no hallway or curtain this time. Instead, they enter a dark room lit by open fire pit tables

The Industrial Room


This song is playing:

The room reeks of sulphur and…shit.

TWBS (covering his nose):  Oof!  Did a sewer main break or something?

Balls:  Remember how I told you that you did NOT want to take a shit in this place?

TWBS:  Yes. Can we please move quickly?

Balls:  Good call.  Hey look!  There’s Mark Schelereth sitting with Gabe Jackson!

TWBS:  Good for them.  I need to get the fuck out of here!

The two hurry past the seemingly endless rows of fire pit tables.  Finally, they reach the slide and almost dive in to get away from the stench.  The slide down is a lot longer than the previous ones.  Apparently, an earthquake had caused a landslide and pushed the next level deeper down the ravine.

As they emerge on the other side, the first thing they see is a giant mural of this:

TWBS:  What the? Does A-Rod own this club?

Balls:  No, but he knows the owner.  Follow me and stay close.  There are a LOT of assholes here.

Balls opens the curtain marked “VII” and they enter

The Pop Room

The room is laid out in a triangular pattern with three sets of seats/booths surrounding a circular dance floor on which a Euro-style laser shines a red wavy pattern.  This song is playing:

To the left, in a corner booth of the first section, sit Ray Lewis, O.J. Simpson, and Rae Carruth.  In the second section, Mark Chmura, Mark Sanchez, and Lawrence Taylor are enjoying drinks.  The third section, on the right, has tables surrounding trees with yellow lights on them.  There is one man looking at a row of portraits hung on the wall.

Balls:  Better keep your head down and don’t look to the left.

TWBS:  Good call.  Imma go get a closer look at the portraits.

TWBS recognizes the people in the portraits and starts counting off the teams.

TWBS: Chiefs, Bears, Patriots, Chargers.  Damn.

A skeletal-like figure approaches TWBS.

TWBS:  Are you Tony Dungy?!?

Dungy: Yes, my friend.  I notice you did not mention the Colts.

TWBS:  Um, no.

Dungy:  Good.  Let’s keep it that way.

TWBS: Oookay.  Later.

TWBS runs towards Balls.

TWBS:  Dude, creepy Tony Dungy is creepy.  Can we please GTFO?

Balls:  Yeah, I can’t stand this room.

The two walk quickly towards the end of the room where the slide is located.  They need to walk quickly as the floor near the second section is covered in extremely hot sand.

As they arrive to the slide, they notice that it has a track inside it so that it is impossible to slide.  There is a button mounted on a wall plate to the right.

TWBS: Should I push it?

Balls: Yes, that will summon our ride down.

TWBS pushes the button and, from the depth of the tunnel, they can hear a loud mechanical sound.  After a few minutes, a small amusement park cart comes up. Kinda like the Matterhorn Bobsleds but black with a picture of a man with the body of a scorpion. They get on and the cart starts its descent

The ride down is slow and deliberate and the temperature drops quite a bit.  The walls are decorated similarly to the Matterhorn bobsleds ride with yetis and other fantastical creatures seen on the side. Progressively, it gets darker and colder.  The descent is a lot longer than before.

TWBS:  Dude, why is it taking so long?

Balls:  That’s the way it is, man.  There was an earthquake and it affected this level and the one above.

Eventually, the cart emerges onto a landing platform and the two get out.  Beyond the curtain painted “VIII” is

The 80s Room

This album is playing:

The room is PACKED and has ten VIP booths along the long wall with a dance floor in between and a long bar on the other wall. Peter King is holding court in one booth while Mike Florio sits in another. It seems all of the NFL media is here moving from booth to booth.  As TWBS and Balls walk in, a silky figure emerges from the first booth and approaches.

Garrard:  Gentlemen, I see you are unaccompanied. That just will not do.  Please allow me to remedy this forthwith!

TWBS: What do you have…

Balls: Dude!

TWBS:  What? Just checking the inventory.

Garrard:  Gentlemen, feast your eyes on this (points toward his booth)

Balls:  Not interested.  Thanks.

TWBS: Now, let’s not be too hasty here.

Balls:  NO

TWBS:  Got any blondes?

Garrard: Not tonight.  Perhaps tomorrow?

Balls:  Only if they’re single moms and Latinas.  Ok, later, Silky!

Garrard:  Gentlemen.

TWBS:  Awww!

As the album moves from song to song, the two pass from VIP booth to VIP booth and chat with the many people there.  Everyone is all too happy to talk and cozy up to them.  Eventually, they get to the booth where DeMaurice Smith is seated.

TWBS:  Hey, I want to have a talk with this motherfucker right here!

Balls:  Ok, but remember what the Doorman told you.

TWBS:  Hey, DeMo, why did you put in place rules to make sure you stayed as head of the NFLPA?

Smith:  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Who are you?

Balls (sensing danger):  Um, sorry, I think we’ve got the wrong table. We’ve got to…

Smith: Hey Peter!  Come over here and check this out!

Peter King lifts his face off a table full of coke and walks over.

TWBS:  PK does coke?!?!

PK (white powder on nose):  No, I don’t.  Are you two offending one of the greatest player representatives ever elected to that lofty office?

Balls:  Oh no.

TWBS: What?!? You fat fuck!  What the hell are you..

Balls drags TWBS away before he can get another word out of his mouth.

Balls:  Dude!

TWBS:  Did you see that?  They just denied everything and pretended everything was different!

Balls:  Are you surprised?

TWBS:  No. But still.

Balls:  You’re never going to find any justice here.  Karmic or otherwise.  It’s best we move on.

The two reach the furthest end of the room, get in the slide, and pull themselves down.  They emerge in a large room with a large underground pool lit up by flares.  Balls pulls out a gun.

The 90s Room


TWBS:  What the fuck?!?!  You were packing this whole time???

Balls:  Yeah. Just being careful here.  There are some giant dudes guarding this place and HIM.

TWBS (gulping): HIM?

Balls:  Stay close to me.

As they move along the sides of the pools, they see a solitary figure chest deep in the water.  In front of him is a hot blonde and some partiers.

This song starts to play:

As the two approach, the partiers and the blonde leave and the two are left facing the horrible creature.

Roger Goodell:  Who are you and how dare you interrupt my evening?

TWBS:  You vile motherfucker!  I hate you and what you’ve done to our beloved game!

Goodell:  Football is safe.  I am the leader in the domestic violence sphere. Ratings are through the roof!

TWBS (stunned):  What?

Goodell: Football has never been better.  We support the troops!

Balls (to TWBS): Alright, I’ve had enough.  Time to go.

Balls aims his gun and fires a shot right between the eyes.  Goodell’s upper body flies back and then falls forward revealing a small slide behind him.

Balls:  We need to be quick.  Follow me.

TWBS is in shock at what he has seen and is at a loss for words but manages to grab onto Balls’ shoulder.  Balls steps on Goodell’s slumped over body and gets to the slide.  TWBS steps on the body as well and follows.  Balls pushes him into the slide and goes in after him.  As they slide down, they can hear the voice of Goodell fading away.

Goodell:  Football is safe!  Support the troops!

They continue the slide until they emerge into the outside world.  There is a warm breeze from the Santa Ana winds.  The lights of Los Angeles twinkle below them as a road appears.  Balls’ car is parked nearby.

TWBS: How is he still talking?!?!  WTF just happened?!?!

Balls: You may need another cookie.  Here, eat this and look up.

TWBS takes a bite of the cookie, looks up, and smiles.  There is no moon, it’s a clear sky, and all he can see is stars.



International Member of the Geelong Cats and recovering Steelers fan. Likes Butts. And Balls. And Boobs. Pretty much anything that starts with the letter B. Preferably together.

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#StripClubQ&A: What’s the preferred drink to order so I REALLY impress the ladies?

Senor Weaselo

Fuck. That was really good. I look forward to the next two installments, even though the third won’t be for a few years. And Balls will be replaced for it by a hot chick.


#StripClubQ&A: Is her real name actually Madison?

Game Time Decision

there’s not nearly enough y’s or z’s or k’s in that spelling to be real


Possibly Maddisin.


Wow, did I get so baked I don’t remember this?
Yes, that adds up. Glad we had fun tho.

But yes….Fuck William Perry and everyone else who attended Clemson, btw. For realsies.


#StripClubQ&A: Being a big fat dude who walks up to the stage with a dollar in my mouth; yes or no?


I’ll allow it as long as you keep your shirt on.

The Maestro

Good lord, turn this into the kind of movie that I can watch after eating a couple of litre_cola’s brownies.


Only if I get to play myself (shut up I didn’t say “play with myself”…also that too).
I been wanting my Screen Actors Guild card anyway. I hear you get discounts with that thing.


#StripClubQ&A: Will the girls think I’m cheap if I use one of those coupons to bypass the cover? I mean, I’ll spend that dough on them but if it THAT important to them that Daddy gets his $10….


At first I was worried about how many strip club buffets you’ve been to, but then I was just worried about how quickly you’re depleting the world’s supply of weed and narcotics.