I was recently reading through some old journal entries on another site and found a few I thought I would share with the millions who visit my DA page. . .ok, the 2 people who visit my DA page. Hope you get a chuckle. If so, there are more to come.

~Wes


Only I can get stressed out at a strip club.

I think it started the first time I went to a female revue when I was in the military. I was a bit of late bloomer and convinced I couldn’t get laid in a women’s prison if I had a handful of pardons.

At the very beginning of the show, they sent all of the dancers out at the same time for a “warm up” dance. What I don’t think they understood is that while women may be like volume knobs, men are like light switches. *Click*. . . .We’re turned on.

So the music builds and out prances a dozen beautiful women straight out of the Mattel catalog. While my friend Sean and all the other guys are out of their seats whooping and waving bills in the air, I find myself in a state of silicone shock.

Everything goes dark for a moment until I realize that one of the dancers has made her way over to my chair and is standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. Glaring down at me she sneers, “What, aren’t you happy to see me?”

As I’m quickly framing a suitable reply, she reaches back and swiftly removes her top. At this point several things happen at once. She grins, “How about now?”, the guys go crazy, and my IQ drops 100 points. *Click*

The suave/cocky reply I was forming in my head that would have made James Bond proud, “Of course I’m happy to see you. In fact we should see more of each other,” came out as. . . .

". . . .WOW. . . . .Jubblies!"

Unfortunately that wasn’t the last time I’ve had a dancer so overcome with laughter that she couldn’t continue.