Monday, July 30, 2007

My Terrible Weekend

Oh my God, I am so hungover today. I drank way too much red wine last night and my head is throbbing. It feels like my brain is throwing itself around my skull, trying to escape. Ugh, this is all Big Earl's fault! The only reason I got drunk was to try and blot out the events of this weekend. And to get rid of the urge to kill Earl. It didn't work in either case.

You see, ever since the whole Tucksworth incident, I have been Earl's whipping girl. He's been punishing me by making Deelishus Diamond the Friday night headliner, while I have to work the unpopular Thursday afternoon shift. We all dread Thursdays because that's when the bus from the retirement home comes by. Those grouchy old men always complain about everything. You know, the food is bad, the drinks are too expensive, the girls were much sexier in their day, blah, blah, blah. Plus it's not exactly lucrative. After three hours of dancing, all I had to show for it was ten dollars in quarters and nickles, which streched my thong to my knees.

Then Earl told me he'd found a replacement for Tucksworth. I wasn't real enthused since I don't want just anyone throwing knives at me. "Is she a professional?" I asked.

"She's a great talent," he growled. "She's been dancing for years, but she's never worked the pole before. Get your ass in here early tommorrow and show her the ropes."

Well that wasn't very inspiring news. Pole dancing is an art, you can't learn it just one afternoon, but I figured it couldn't be too bad if she was already a good dancer.
Oh how wrong I was!

My heart sank the moment I saw her. "Hey, y'all! My name is Britney Sue," she said, while chomping gum, smoking, and guzzling a Red Bull at the same time. "That's sure a cute outfit you're wearing. Want to trade clothes?"

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The new girl.

"," I said, taking a long look at her ripped up fishnets and grubby leather bustier. She smelled like she hadn't bathed in weeks. I glanced back at Earl, not believing he expected me to dance with this. He gave me an evil little smirk.

"Work up an act," he ordered. "Make it a sexy!"

Britney Sue let out a loud belch. "No problemo," she said with a big smile, "I can do sexy in my sleep!"

"Okay," I sighed. "Show me a few of your moves." I wanted to see what I had to work with. It turned out to be even worse than I expected.

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First she ran around the pole in circles. WTF?

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Then she did sort of a funky chicken type move, complete with arm flapping.

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And then she kind of just stood there and pretended to hump the pole.

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When she slid to the floor in a big finish, I distinctly heard her fart.

I was speechless! This was a great dancer? All of the other girls were snickering and the bartender laughed so hard he nearly threw up. I cut my eyes over to Earl, expecting him to be livid. Instead, he was gazing up at her with awe. "She's fantastic!" he whispered.

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Earl, watching Britney Sue's performance.

Earl was so impressed with Britney Sue that he decided she didn't need me. In fact, he demoted me to a waitress, so I quit. How dare he treat me this way! I marched right across the street to Earl's biggest competition, "The Boobie Barn" and got hired on the spot. It's okay, I made some decent tips but I don't know if I'll be able to stand my new boss. His name is Tom and he's even weirder than Big Earl if that's possible. You won't believe the kind of freaky stuff he's into. Here's a picture of him.

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My new boss. He likes to be saluted.

That nazi stuff creeps me out! But the good news is that he's only about five feet tall and all the girls say he's gay so I won't have to worry about him pawing me. But I'm still angry about the Britney Sue situation. And the very worst part is that she apparently sold out the house on Saturday night. That's right! "Fans" came from miles around just to watch her "dance" and lip sync to some awful 90's tunes. What is wrong with people?


Mister Underhill said...

I have that same outfit as Tom. Well, as Britney Sue, too, but I only wear the tom one outside.

Diane said...

Wow, and I thought I was too fat to be a stripper . . .

Speaking of hangovers and old men, Saturday night I had a guy who was 75 if he was a day shuffle over to ask me to dance at a dive bar. There is no actual dance floor and we would have been the only hoofers, but nevertheless, I had to sit that one out

M-M-M-Mishy said...

"When she slid to the floor in a big finish, I distinctly heard her fart."

Good god... and you lived to tell the tale. Tom should be saluting you for making it out of there alive!

Scottsdale Girl said...

Tom should be easily placed into a submissive hold if necessary.

Gawd!I hate Red wine hangovers,. Your tongue feel like it is wearing slippers?

Scottsdale Girl said...

um yeah, believe it or not, that comment was left while I am sober.

Sudiegirl said...

Uh...could you change her middle name from "Sue" to something else?

A grateful populus awaits your reply.

Helen said...

Ok, here's what the girls I got working for me did when Tear-eze hired that behemoth with the triple H titties (the bitch was just faaat, deprived of taco bell for a month, and she'd have just had triple D's like the rest of us)

Anyhow, take a tip from your sisters to the north, NOTHING brings business your way like the rumor of clap and scabies from the bathroom and the brass rail. Best if you have pictures.

Thank me after you pay cash for your next Spyder! Mwah (blows kisses)

Prunella Jones said...

Mister U- you like to dress up as a gay nazi and a trashy skank? Wow, I'd like to see what else is in your closet.

Diane- old men are the best dancers. I bet he could Foxtrot like a pro. I never knew how to Two-step till an 80 year old dude taught me at some honkey tonk I went to. That old man could move!

Mish- it smelled terrible too. Kind of like rotten eggs mixed with old bong water and stale Cheetos.

SG- my mouth still tastes a bit like socks. isn't it strange that hangovers are best helped by eating greasy McDonalds? I don't know why that is as I can't abide fast food at any other time.

Sudie- I'm sorry. How about Jean? Will that work better? I also like Bunny.

Helen- clap and scabies, eh? I like the way your mind works!

morbid misanthrope said...

Some broads just have no class. What happened to classy girls like Shaniqua Squats? She was this stripper that used to live in the apartment above the singer from my old band.

She was really something. She only had two teeth, yet her smile could light up a dark room when the strobe lights hit her face. She always had change for a five-dollar bill when I needed some singles to buy malt liquor. I remember getting beaten up in a drunken bar fight, and she cheered me up by letting me play connect the dots with the trail marks on her arms. As proud as she was, she wasn't pretentious or unrealistic: she often let her customers tip her with syringes and old spoons. I never saw her perform because I don't go to strip clubs, but I heard she was really a sight to behold when the hallucinations weren't making her cry.

I think she died falling down some stairs. Oh well, they just don't make women like that any more.

MJ said...

I've humped a Pole.

And a Latvian.

GetFlix said...

I was wondering where you were.

Captain Smack said...

I have a friend named Earl, haven't seen him in long time, though. He was good at fixing cars and astral projection. He was in a band called The Grave Diggers, they used to play a lot of strip clubs and wet t-shirt contests. You might have run across him, he got his start in Nashville, but ended up in Panama City selling t-shirts, last I heard.

Prunella Jones said...

Morbid- RIP Shaniqua Squats. You're right, they don't make them like that anymore. But at least Courtney Love is still out there representin!

MJ- who hasn't humped a Latvian?

GF- did you by any chance catch Britney Sue's "performance?" You'd better not get any lap dances from her. I hear they are quite Toxic.

Captain- I believe I've heard of The Grave Diggers. I think they used to play at that gay bar on Demonbreun Street. Didn't they change their name to Anal Alley?

GetFlix said...

As soon as I realized you weren't there Pru, I left. The Boobie Barn isn't my favorite place. The owner always "frisks" me at the door. said...

"When she slid to the floor in a big finish, I distinctly heard her fart."

My stomach hurts from laughing too hard! You need to stop!

Prunella Jones said...

GF- damn that sucks, dude. I've heard that a lot of guys wear a cup to get in the door. Try that next time.

Brenda- it was loud too, like a firecracker going off. No one could believe it. Britney just giggled and said, "Oops I Farted Again!"

(okay, that was groan worthy. sorry I couldn't resist)

Miss Smack said...

Her children will grow up as sleazy as K-Fed smacking their bitches and laughing at Mom's strip act.

Oh, so proud.

Sudiegirl said...

Britney Jean is more acceptable, thank you.

honkeie2 said...

I you do private poll dances?

Prunella Jones said...

Miss Smack- they will be poor as well, since Brit and KFed are going to run through all their money.

Sudie- I think that's actually her real name.

Honk- indeed. I'm your private dancer. A dancer for money. And any old music will do.

Mister Underhill said...

Girls of the deja vu, I have just one question for you...Can a nigga get a table dance?

Prunella Jones said...

Sorry, I already got a customer!

Sudiegirl said...

I think you're right re: Britney Jean.

Much better than Britney Sue, at any rate...thanks for da change.