I remember the days when I used to wrap up a road-trip weekend synopsis so eloquently that it would bring tears to your eyes.
Oh I'm not saying that
kevinduran stole my thunder because I'm all too happy to gift-wrap that thunder in Carlos' g-string to the beloved KeviNaomi for his kick-ass breakdown of the weekend
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Ahhhnuld xoxoxo
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There was one that was hopped up on something and it wasn't adrenaline, plus he was a little musky in the pits.
When he learned I was from St Louis, the following conversation took place.
Musky Stripper Jordan: "you guys have Boxers n' Briefs there (BnB is a strip club in the IL side of the STL metro area).
Freshly Scented Me: "yes, although I haven't been there in years."
Musky Stripper Jordan: "When I was there, I spent $400 on a stripper there and I still didn't get to fuck him." *I know what you're thinking. How can Jordan spend 400 quid on one stripper and be so happy to see 2 dollars into his briefs? I guess he has a "stripper jar" at home for such events.*
Freshly Scented Me: "400 dollars? He must have been something special." *read slow, Jordan.*
Musky Stripper Jordan: "He was." *he was saying this as then turned around as he rubbed my shoulder blades*Strip clubs ( ... )
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So I do not know if Kevin ever told you. I got stripper bitch slapped once in L.A. I was drunk (that is rare for me) and we were watching a very hunky Latino stripper do his thing. Well I went to put my dollar in his g string, and instead the notion struck me to just yanked it down! He boxed my ears! I am so big or I was so drunk. I just wobbled a bit and just stood there dazed. I was not kicked out, but my friends (after they quit laughing at the whole incident) whisked me right away. I have not been back since. I am probably not allowed..
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