Quote:

...and no real indication any of which came from an actual stripper.




Unless, of course, you happen to understand English grammar. "stripper's bad breath" refers to the bad breath of a stripper, rather than referring to some special kind of bad breath. The smell went away the moment I got up and washed my face.

In this case, there happens to have been two strippers. I had them double-team dancing in my lap at The Great Alaska Bush Co. One of them asked me for my number and I have no fucking clue now which one it is. I've been sending her non-specific texts today. She called my number at 2:30am so that I'd have her number, then she forgot to hang up the phone.

I got a 5 minute voice-mail that consists of the two of them conversing. Being strippers, this message sounds like the gibberings of two mental patients. The only part I can clearly make out is, "Your fucking shoes turned my toes black!!!" I think I might block my caller ID and call her. No one ever answers blocked calls, so I'm hoping it'll go straight to voice-mail and I'll get a, "Hey, this is Candy, leave a message," type greeting. But, knowing strippers, she probably has a fucking song as a greeting.

I was supposed to go to Bush with one of my lesbo friends so that she can apply for a security job, only she keeps backing out of our plans. Lesbians, apparently, are the least reliable people on the planet. Nothing she says she's going to do ever actually happens. Also, she works a good job making decent money, but can never pay the rent on time and she drives a beat up truck. Speaking of vehicles, her lesbo ex-girlfriend had a car for 5 years and never checked or changed the oil, so the engine blew up. She replaced the engine and then did the exact same thing to the new engine.
_________________________
"Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars." - Martin Luther King, Jr.