Even I . . .

could be a stripper.

Let me explain.

Many years ago, two very good friends were getting married.  The most important crucial part of a wedding, the bachelor party, was planned and Angry attended wasn’t going to miss it.

As usual, a group of guys travelled from strip club to strip club enjoying the “scenery” and drinking copious amounts of beer. 

I waited up for Angry to hear details about the party.  How much fun did everyone have and how did they all behave?

He regaled me with tales about the evening:  What strip clubs they went to, how much it cost to get in, what beer they bought for the bachelor, how many girls danced, how pretty the girls were, how fake the boobs were.



Enough fake boobs & high heels for everyone!

Then he told me about the last strip club they went to.  It was only about half an hour from bar time.  He said the club was not “that cool” and that the girls were not “all that great.”  I asked him what that meant.  He explained that the strippers looked “skanky and used up.”

Next thing I know he stops talking, looks me right in the eye and says, “You know, even you could be a stripper.”  WHAT?  I said, “good night” and starting walking towards the bedroom.  He followed me like a lost puppy and said, “Wait, you’re not THAT bad.”

This story has been used for years to humiliate Angry.  I think everyone that has ever heard the story has told it to every single person they know.  Angry is famous!!