Ah, stag do's.
I'm a big fan of the Go Karting, the Archery, the Trap Shooting, the Quad Biking, the drinking, the hotels, the youth hostels, even tolerant of Chester Races despite my inability to gamble. But i am not equipt with the man-skills to cope in a strip bar. This is what i have found this weekend. I can decide if I was confused, terrified or just a little depressed.

Anyway, I decided to be the only member of our part to not partake of a private dance, and stood out back in the smoking area being told by some bloke that I was 'a The Stroke' or more disturbingly 'that Tim Burgess', and then chatting to an off duty dancer about Charles Dickens for some unknown reason. I drank a lot of wine.

I guess the real point to this is, lapdancers, is that cold stare your approximation of the look that you believe men find sexually alluring, or are you just dead inside? I hope you're not dead inside that would be sad.