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Why put that much thought into going to a strip club? I don't think I've ever left the house planning on going except once for a bachelor party.

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I started going when I was sixteen, cause two of my cousins were older football dudes who started working the door when they turned 18. I was intitiated into the world of strippers at a young age cause I was the only designated driver.

I learned very quickly that these women are generally fucked up. They all have a sad story to tell and will gladly tell it to you if the price is right. Strangely, the price generally seems to be that of a round of drinks or a $20 lapdance, whichever costs more.

Burg, you can smooth 'em and pay all the money you want to smear your precum and whatnot, but these girls have never been more than a novel commodity to me. Fucking one would be way too easy. And paying in graduated installments throughout the night to fuck them would make me feel bad about my inner pervert. I've always lusted after the waitresses anyway.

Which brings me back to my original point. We stopped into a strip club in Mississauga on the way home the other and there were no pushy Hungarians. Just a lot of afternoon shift gals who probably wanted to be somewhere else, but who, nonetheless, danced their respective asses off to an empty room. They looked and smelled so dirty.

Made me feel sixteen again. Next stop: The Brass Rail on Yonge Street.