Why I Want To Be A Stripper

Liz regrets her career choice:

How interesting that Killer and I are both thinking about career opportunities. I think I missed the ideal job for me.

Everything cool happens to strippers. People literally throw money at them, they have drinks bought for them AT WORK, attending to their hair and makeup is part of their JOB and now, this:

NEW YORK (Reuters) - A doctor pleaded guilty on Thursday to stealing a severed hand, which he gave to a stripper who displayed it in her New Jersey apartment.

Ahmed Rashed faces five years probation for stealing the hand in 2002 from a cadaver at a New Jersey medical school, an assistant prosecutor for Middlesex County said on Thursday.
Rashed practices medicine at a hospital in Los Angeles and stole the hand while studying in New Jersey, the prosecutor said.

The woman kept the hand in a jar of formaldehyde in her apartment where it was discovered by police during an unrelated investigation.

I have a friend who paid a stripper $20 to walk on his back. According to him, he went into the club, approached a woman, made the deal, laid on the floor (I know... but he survived), got walked on by a barefoot stripper, paid his money and left.

I guess they don't require a 2 drink minimum from the insane.

I think that is a charming story. No doubt one Tabitha will be telling her grandchildren in a few years.

Killer and I talked about strippers this weekend. I theorized that men must not care if other men see them with wood. After all, they often travel in packs to strip joints. He explained that being in a strip club is not an automatic *boing*. I didn't know this. I simply assumed that the very sight of a bare breast would send all the blood in the brain straight to the crotch of the strip club client. I guess I was wrong with my assumption.

It is the most useful fact I've learned all week.