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Yes i have been to a strip club once or twice.
The last time was around 3 years ago on one of my best friends stag do in Budapest and it was a rather soul destroying experience. There was about 10 of us there and we had been out drinking all day. For some reason, rather than just have our own cash, another one of my friends insisted that we clubbed our money into a kitty for the day and just bought massive rounds. A simple enough idea but it ultimately led to later complications as to who had put in what and a few unnecessary rows broke out over the course of the day. It had been a long, hazy drunken first day, which ended up with us being in the VIP area of this rather natty strip club. I had arranged for the Stag to have a private dance with two of the ladies of his choice. I'm not sure if any of you have ever been but there's no such thing as the No Touching rule in Hungary. Basically, you can do what you want and if you've got the cash you can really really really do just about anything your sad heart desires. I had a girlfriend at the time, coupled with the fact that the thought of paying someone to pretend they're enjoying dancing for you does absolutely nothing for me, so i was just sat at the bar having a drink and watching the girls float around in their skimpiest of skimpies. It was my turn to get the round in so i took control of the kitty and made sure everyone topped it up with 200 each of the local currency. When i went back to the bar I noticed that some idiot had put 2000 (about £60) in instead of 200 into the pot. If i went back to each of them and asked who had made the mistake, they would all undoubtably claim it was them and another needless row would ensue. So i took the executive and noble decision to keep quiet about the error. Everyone was smashed and if i just spent the money on a quick private dance with two of the pneumatic lovelies in there everyone would be none the wiser and i would be the secret hero/peacemaker of the hour. So i quickly made my choice and targetted a blonde and a brunette for a little menage a trois. They took me by the hand, relieved me of my ill-gotten money and led me away to a curtained booth on the other side of the seedily lit room. In side of the room they immediately got down to their act and began gyrating away to the excruiating Euro Pop tones that were being blasted about the club. Having only just discovered that they didn't operate a strict No Touching policy, I wasted no time in going straight for their fake boobies. This was all great I thought, but i soon remembered why I had such an aversion to paying for this kind of thing when the two girls started talking to eachother in Pig Latin and completely ignored me. I had no idea what they were talking about but they were talking about it with such little enthusiasm that it was probably something as mundane as what they had had for dinner or something equally unsexy. After a minute or so of putting up with them rabbiting on and ignoring me completely, i kicked up a bit of a stink by reminding them that i was still there and that if they wanted to talk they could do it on their own time. They must have understood what i said because they immediately turned their attentions to me. Due to a serious cheese addiction i was then battling, I was a couple fo stone overweight at the time and when one of them started pulling up my t-shirt, I got uncomfortable and immediately started pulling it down again before reminding her that i wasn't the one who was supposed to be getting naked here.
"Whazza madder, Teddy Bear" the other one said in pidgin English.
"Teddy Bear!" I retorted "Fucking Teddy Bear!!!"
"Aaah Teddy Bear!!!" The other one giggled as she pulled up my t-shirt and poked me in my flabby belly, before the two of them burst into laughter and continued to talk to eachother in a language i couldn't understand. Well this was the giddy limit! I had paid these women to do a sexy dance for me but had somehow found myself becoming the victim of their nasty abuse about my weight as they danced half-arsed and chatted about their fucking kids or something. For the remaining two minutes or so I sat with my arms folded, sulking and waiting for this shitty experience to end. When the music stopped the girls pulled back the curtains and i got out of there as soon as i could. As i walked dejectedly back to the bar, both strippers shouted out "Bye bye, Teddy Bear" and waved and giggled at me as i huffed off. Unfortunately, a couple fo my friends heard these hurtful Teddy Bear jibes and they ribbed me mercilessly with that name for months and months endlessly until i could finally take no more and went and lost some weight.
And the worst of all this story is that when i went to the bar after the dance to drown my sorrows, I looked in my wallet and discovered that the idiot who had put the £60 into the kitty by accident was none other than me.
is there anyway I can get your posts on an RSS so I will be alerted to more of your faboulous stories.
I've no idea. If the people at DiS are interested i'll make my tales of woe a weekly slot ;)
on a weekly basis we'll do a vote for different stories and you can work on them over the weekend and publish on the monday.
We could call it scutterbucketemotes.
Though i do very much like the sound of that. My very own blog? Hmmmmm......
You probably shouldn't encourage me though.
loads of people here have blogs. the best ones are just random stories.
I have every faith scutters that a blog you write will be fabulous.
WHAT A TWIST!
It started off OK- abit of brie here and a small slice of stilton there. Perhaps even the occasional cheese platter after a nice meal out.
But it was a slippery, slippery slope. Soon i found myself consuming all manner of cheesey products. And not even the good stuff. Just shit like:- dairylea triangles by the packet, primula squeezy cheese in a tube, processed cheese slices. Cheese Strings were like crack to me. I was a total mess and i'm glad i've cleaned up my act. I do sometimes think back to those times. I was convinced i was happy but deep down i knew i was living a cheesey lie.
Cos i'll get 3 copies printed up. One each for the two of you and one for my mum.
Actually, scratch that. Just two copies. She'd shit then die.
I did go to a live sex show in Amsterdam though.
It was a pretty depressing experience I won't bother repeating.
If thats what you are asking...
It was my brothers 21st. Me and a few of my friends (we were 18 at the time) joined the group in a trip to Spearmint Rhino.
It was fun, as you can expect when you are 18. Although the £5 extra charge for a woman to pour your drink was a bit much.
In San Francisco. I found it all horribly depressing (Especially when the hot girls that we'd gone in with and that might, just might, have maybe wanted to lezz off with the strippers left)
But decided I didn't want to go.
Not sure if I made the right decision in retrospect. I mean I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be my kind of thing but part of me feels I shouldn't have dismissed it without seeing what it was all about.
£30 to get in, they only served bottles of wine, cheapest being £30.
£30 for a dance, you can't touch them, you've got whole bottle of wine to drink so after the first dance, you sit there finishing your bottle of wine and a more attractive girl comes talking to you.
Another £30. Go home, have the wank you've been threatening for the past hour, but becuase your pissed won't the the satsfactory activity you'd hoped for.
Loathe self when you see credit card bill online the next day.
on Rollercoaster Tycoon.
is Hard-Fi's 'Cash Machine'.
ACTUALLY it could just be a collection of dodgems, 9 Zipper rides and a big wheel
and concrete. The only food served on site would be one of the less succesful fried chicken franchises.
I work in depressing Woking-World.
of his birthday night out. I'm sure it was just to make me feel really uncomfortable. I went got really scared whenever the girls came over....
I was highly bored and ended up sitting at the bar chatting to the strippers about girl stuff - one recommended coconut body butter which I still use so that was at least a positive.
wait....that doesn't work.
She was bulgarian and wanted to be a fashion designer and was told she could make loads of money to go to Milan to study fashion design if she started stripping.
I promise I won't laugh! Honest.
Nice that you spoke to her though.
I go to a strip club and turn into Oprah.
Of course next time you need to remember to touch boob, but you still did good.
No touching rules?
and then you each start pouring drinks down your tops. So I've heard. Theres only one way to find out i guess.
i found it to be a little surreal. I also got told off for laughing during a lapdance.
first time living away from home, the biggest wanker in halls wanted to go for his birthday and it was still at the stage where you don't want to say no to any night out. The place looked like a backstreet mechanics, the girls were rough, everything cost too much, possibly the least erotic night ever.
Oh, and in a fine act of making an example of the weakest member of the peer group, the wanker guy bought the smallest kid we lived with a private dance, and the kid had worn tracksuit bottoms to the club. Cue small but very conspicuous erection, ridicule from the stripper, first and last visit for me.
It's bad practice to get aroused at a strip club?
to the imagination. Outrageous.
Le Coq tracksuit bottoms.
Is this innuendo hour?
What if you had a big willy but were wearing trackies? Would he have got a round of applause or something?
that made me leave Stoke pretty quickly. For reference ST1's was where the Underworld is now, and ST1 is now the undeniably classy ST1 Gold.
Wow it must be EVEN BETTER now! You can't argue with "gold"!
with Paul Baron, Baron's nightclub.
"I call this cocktail 'Simply the Breast', it's vodka with a chicken breast on the side."
ST1? I know it's not *exactly* the same as STI, but close enough...
but I have visited the Pencil Museum in Keswick.
where the "don't touch" rule is almost too much frustration to bear.
got pencil sharpeners instead of fingers.
I've been there! They're not made out of lead after all!
It's not that big!
It was pretty big.
i mean, it was taller than me.
Never as attractive as you would anticipate
but I have been to a ping pong show in Thailand. Amusing: mildly but more depressing. Sexy: no no!
My brother went to one of those and he said they blew perfect smoke rings out...
also darts fired into the ceiling and a chain of razor blades was removed which was un-nervingly long.
how did they figure out they could do such tricks?
they call it Lickety Split.
it was the single most hellish experience of my life
my even less classy thing was going to a sauna. THAT was the most hellish experience of my life.
terrible music.feeling like a pervert (i dont usually mind but when its in a strip lcub it isnt nice)
once for a mates birthday and a second on my brother's stag do. I have a particularly vivid memory the time of the stag do where i was being pushed in the direction of a partially clad lady by my brother's mates with the intention of making me get a dance off said lady with me protesting and pushing back in a rather juvinile manner like when you are made to go to school for the first time. I don't think a forced lapdance would have been fun.
I've never felt more awkward in my life, I absolutely hated it. I thought it was pretty tricky not to feel a bit self-conscious when all around you wimmin are gyrating whilst wearing very little, in the hope that they might get some money out of you. Not your typical everyday scenario, is it?
that club realises you're not a female lapdancer but a closely-shaven man, you're going to be in some trouble
i went to one in Lisbon last year. it kinda sucked.
In Prague on a stag do.
I got a lapdance. Found it all a bit weird to be honest, but, hey, boobs and stuff.
I think I would actually cry, not because it was "depressing" and not for the women's sake, just because it would probably be crushingly embarrassing.
They're getting paid fuckloads 'cos men can't go 5 minutes without seeing a bit of nudity. They're hardly victims here.
And their wage doesen't neccisarily mean that the majority of them thought it would be a great idea to be a stripper in a sort of "sisters doing it for themselves" way. I'm pretty sure i'd need to be in dire circumstances before i'd consider dangling my bits about for cash.
to suggest you know better than they do in the matter.
I think it's easy to step over the line from supporting women's liberation to ignoring women's liberation entirely and imposing your own moral standards on how women 'should' behave.
I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of strippers and I think it probably is a bit demeaning but ultimately most women who work in strip bars have made their own choice to do it, largely no doubt 'cos it makes more money than bar work or various other fairly menial jobs you might do part-time to make a bit of extra cash.
Whilst I'm sure the stereotype of the desperate woman forced to strip for cash has some basis in reality in some cases, I'm sure if you talked to most women who'd done it you'd find it was their own choice and there was other work they could have done.
Certainly I rememeber meeting a pole danciner in a social setting and she slipped into the conversation she was a pole dancer pretty early on (probably 'cos she knew what kind effect an attractive girl saying that tends to have on guys) and seemed quite confident and happy in her decision to do it.
To her the bottom line was she had the looks for it, it made her money and got a certain confidence in the fact men wanted to pay money to see her dancing eroticaly. So, to her mind, why not?
it's because they're all on crack and in service to their dealers.
one of them once said that about burlesque dancers as well.
i did a lol.
It's an odd criticism to make of Feminism but in its ultra-form it does get rather paternalistic. "Women should be free to do what they want but we know best about what it's appropriate for other women to do..."
of that "what would you do if your son was at home" song which hilariously justified prostitution :D
My answer to the original question is no, by the way.
I some of the Prague ones they have rooms upstairs for the 'extras'. The girls come out and sit your lap and try to talk you into going upstairs. I found it all a bit awkward.
I think I'd love to be lapdanceraped
we did offer to buy a mate one for his 21st, but he stauncly refused.
He's really into indie musics.
would be the most depressing thing ever. Except possibly a lap dance to "Unloveable".
indie boy: "so can you do that please? I will pay extra?"
Stripper: "Yeah, ok. Yeah you like my tits, don't you? Yeah you do. They're brilliant, like Neutral Milk Hotel. Oh yeah i'll show you MY milk hotels, oh yeah..."
but I think i managed to hide it.
'Do you want to see my Two Gallants?'
Tried to once with a bunch of mates and then-boyfriend.
Boyfriend had a total hissy fit and point-blank refused to go.
He stropped off, I had to follow him.
I reckon it's because they all knew his name :)
on a friends Stag Do - it was a shithole!!
I was shitfaced and drank a pint of Tennants Export whilst watching this strip show
It was the worst pint of lager i have EVER drank and 10 minutes later i was sat on the pan in this awful, awful dive crapping through the eye of a needle. There was no lock on the door, no bog roll and no soap to wash my hands!!
Not the greatest night of my life i must admit
hang on, isn't that like 90% of men's loos every where in the world ever??
been to a few. Had fun when I've been to a couple of them, the other one was not so fun.
You lot haven't lived
well as many as a man my age who has been on too many stag do's. They are fun, but bloody expensive.
I have also been to a couple on work expenses. Anyone match that?!
On a sligtly different note, is it in Prague where there is a knocking shop that is free....as long as you dont mind your activities being streamed on the internets?
Not a bad deal.
went there on a stag do. Only my brother fancied being a movie star out of the 12 of us. No, I haven't been on the website.
That is pure poetry.
The closest was when my friend's ex-stripper girlfriend came to a club with us and started sexy dancing on my leg when he went to the bar. I just sort of smiled and moved away a bit. Very odd.
I went to a grim place called the Honey Pot in Reading. Again, I was just having a drink and looking at the birds when I heard "Hi Paul!" and looked over my shoulder to see a girl who was in the geeky crowd at school stood there in stockings and suspenders. She was properly religious at school but had now turned into some stripper freak. I wouldnt have minded all this but she was utterly bogging to boot and i spent an excruitaing 5 minutes talking to her about mundane day to day things while she was stood in her pants and bra.
What a place.
alt and metal strip club.
One was in Scarborough and one was in Hull. So I should have guessed as much, it wasn't my choice to go either time it was some girl goin ooo wouldn't it be wacky to go in here... no it would be expensive and boarin... and I love boobs.
i got called sam fox. the end.
1) Charging myself a fiver to walk through my front door
2) Charging myself another fiver for a beer from the fridge
3) Not allowing myself to enjoy the beer in peace, instead opting to harass myself with inane smalltalk, then I feign an interest in what I do for a living and ask myself a few questions about that whilst yawning a bit and looking at my watch.
4)Next I lead myself into the next room and charge myself twenty quid for some lame third rate foreplay even though I know for a fact that there is absolutely no chance of sex at the end of it all.
5) Finally, overcome with lust I reach out and touch myself before quickly pushing a button to alert the bouncer (me) that I'm being touched by a client (also me).
6) My night ends with me giving myself a kicking outside the garage.
And just whereabouts is this stripclub of yours?
I'm about a mile from Spearmint Rhino, Fantasy Palace, Wiggle and For Your Eyes Only, but If I wanted to hang out with women who are only talking to me because they're getting paid I'd just do some overtime at the bank!
Went to a place called the Banana Bar, 50 euros and you get as many drinks as you want for an hour and there were naked girls on the bar and drunkenly i paid euros for a show whereby you massaged their boobs, ate a banana out of the vagina, one girl wrote me a postcard with her vagina, what else, erm another stripper played with a dildo and then forced me to fuck her with it in my mouth, and other stuff. before that we went to a live sex show, which was ok.
there's my two cents.
Did you have to pay for the stamp?
Did you get home before it arrived?
but what did the postcard say?
Wish You Were Here and i'll leave you alone.
I'm still waiting for answers though...
but eating a banana out of some hookers vag?!?!? That'd be a big no no from me.
I also like the way you say you then went to a live sex show, which was ok. Like you had broken the porn sex limiter in your head and everything after the Banana club escapade just bores you.
Unless they mean that John terry is a dildo face. In which case, i do get.
other than massively disappointing.
To Tom, have a great night, love pussy
especially if your name is Tom.
they always washed their hands,
Were you? You filthy filthy boy.
Achewood explains things so I don't have to:
I've never been to a strip club.
It was a bit shit and well expensive.