I have a Mantastic Day. I go to strip clubs. I play poker with Connie Hawkins (Hall of Fame basket ball player.)

*This blog post is now edited and in completed form.*

I went to a burger joint that has a theme like Hooter's. The girls dress in short skirts and tight shirts. The burgers cost 10 dollars a pop, but they are quite yummy and you can get chili on them for free.

We stopped at the burger joint because we thought it was the Heart Attack Grill. The Heart Attack Grill is a famous food place in Arizona that got national attention when the Arizona Nursing Union tried to sue the company because the Grill dresses its servers in slutty nurse uniforms. Real nurses somehow thought that people might get confused by that.

Back to the burger joint that is no longer the Heart Attack Grill :
Card Shark told the staff that I was self employed as a pro blogger. The manager and owner of the store wanted to know my website because I told her that I was going to blog about the restaurant.

The cute servers had tons of questions about me what being a pro blogger was like:

Q. Does it get boring having to be witty all the time?
A. Nope.

Q. Can you make money at being a pro blogger?
A. Yes.

Q. Will you write about this?
A. Yes.

I gave the girls a fake blog site because I did not want them to go to my blog and notice that I had no advertising on the site and thus no way of making money other than the pathetic "please donate" button that has been plugged only one time in the sites 5 years of existence. (Thanks Drug Monkey!)

MEET MY NEW WIFE, COREY! COREY IS A STRIPPER. i AM GOING TO VEGAS THIS WEEK WITH HER. WE ARE GETTING MARRIED. sHE PROMISED!

nEXT

We went to a strip club that was close to the burger joint. I forgot to mention that Card Shark brought his Mexican contractor with us to the burger joint so we could all go to the Strip Club together. I think going to a strip club with a guy who has on a tool belt and hiking boots is very manly.

The strip club is very dark and I had a hard time seeing in it for the first 20 minutes. I ordered a beer because I did not have to worry about driving. Beer at the strip club is 5 dollars and then you have to tip the waitress in a very low cut top, or she gets pissed at you and spits in your beer.

It had been a while since I had seen a woman naked. I got to see plenty in the strip club. All the girls were very attractive and most were skinny with fake tits. A number of the girls asked me if I wanted a table dance as soon as I sat down. I told them no because once I start spending money at a strip club it goes fast.

I gave all the money I had saved for a down payment on a new car to a very hot Asian stripper in Las Vegas. As we walked hand in hand down to the ATM machine I told her that "I was not rich" and that the only money I had in my savings account "I had saved to make a down payment on a truck."

I told her it was all the money I had in the world and that I was in my mid thirties and carless in Arizona which was exactly like being carless is Las Vegas.

Even though I had just met her I told her how much I loved her, and how I was hoping she would not make me give away all my money, because with out a car it was hard to get a job or go out on a date and I had not been on a date in 4 years. I wanted her to know that I vulnerable because I was lonely and horny.

My Asian stripper just smiled at me and pulled me over to the cash machine. I looked at her one more time and pleaded with her.

"Could I please keep a little of the money? I really am saving this money for a car, but I will be honest with you...I am pretty much powerless around you. Please don't make me give you all my money. I know you don't want me to do that. I've already given you over a hundred and fifty dollars."

The cash machine said "hello" to me and warned me that it was going to charge me 7 dollars to withdraw my money. I glanced over at my Asian stripper. She was getting bored.

"Get your money out!" She wined. "Let's go have some fun."

I still had a painful boner and now I was going to be broke. I took the money out the ATM and handed it to her. I gave her my very best sad puppy dog look. I don't think it registered with her at all. My stripper then took my hand and led me back to the table where she spent the next half hour grinding her knee into my erection.

I think the best part of the night was walking to the ATM with my hot Asian stripper and holding her hand like she was my girlfriend. I like holding hands and I like to cuddle which I guess is gay, but I don't care what you think. I liked how the men at the club looked at me as we walked back and forth from the ATM. On the way back all the men stared at me admiringly. They seemed to be saying to me that I had good taste in women. That my stripper and me were a cute couple and I was cool enough to have picked her.

Obviously I was loaded because there I was at the cash machine taking out hundred dollar bills like it was nothing. I know some of the guys wished they were me right then. All they could afford to do that night was tip dollar bills to the stage dancing girls. They had to shoo away all the aggressive girls who would drop by and ask for a dance between every song. Not me. I had a sexy girl/friend/stripper for as long as I could afford her.

I have had some bad experiences with strippers . I was looking through the archives of this blog and I found a high number of instances where I gave what was left of my savings account to a naked girl just because she would sit on my lap, breathe in my ear, and whisper to me that she thought I was wonderful and sexy. I once gave all my savings to a wonderful single mom stripper that way while in Palmetto, Florida.

I thought about all that while I was trying to relax in the strip club. The owner of the club kept the place so dark that he often got complaints from his workers. I hoped that my eyes could adjust quickly to the darkness. I wanted to at least see the girls jiggle and move around a bit.

I was startled out of my day dream by a young girl jumping into my lap.
"Hi!" She said. "My name is Corey!" Corey was deeply tanned and had large possibly fake breasts. At least at one time I think her breasts were fake, but maybe she had a bad tit job. I think she must have had the implants removed because the skin around her breasts sagged and rippled like from being stretched out. She smiled at me and placed her arms around my neck. Then she told me she was drunk.

"I just did a shot!"

Everything she said she said in exclamations. She asked me if she made me nervous. "You look nervous!" She told me. I agreed. And she asked me why I was so nervous.

"I did not shave today and I know that dancers hate it when men come to strip clubs without shaving because our faces scratch your boobies." I confided.

Corey did not mind my 5 o'clock shadow she said that it looked sexy on me. Despite how easy the conversation was flowing I could tell Corey was itching to get a table dance. She was antsy on my lap and crawled around like she could not get comfortable. I took her hint and asked her if she wanted to get a table dance. She said, " Hell Yeah!" And then she asked me where I wanted to get the dance. I told her I wanted the normal side dance. I could only pay 10 dollars a dance and you had to pay 20 dollars a dance if you wanted to go to the "more private" couches that lined the back wall.

I did not have to leave my friends and risk being suckered into the "private" couches to get a table dance. I could have stayed and had my dance around my friends, but I don't like how my friends always want to make eye contact with me when I am getting a table dance. A table dance is supposed to be slightly naughty and pervy. A table dance is not supposed to be fun. That is why I am against women going to strip clubs unless they work there.

I don't like the dances where the girl talks a lot either, or where she tries to show me her dance skills. I want the stripper to take off her top and push her breasts into my face. I want her to put her tongue in my ear and blow her hot breath on my neck. I want her to straddle my lap and rub on my crotch. I want her to grind her knee into my groin. I want to her smile up at me when she pretends to suck my dick.

I don't know what other men like in a strip club dance but that's what I like. I also like hand jobs, but I have never gotten a hand job from a stripper. I have gone to the VIP rooms. I have paid great sums of money in them thinking I was on my way to the fabled land of stripper hand jobs and happy endings. But I never got a hand job in a VIP room. Then I thought that if I got to know a stripper really well she might want to give me a hand job and a happy ending. So I became a regular at a strip club for a time. I introduced myself to a big titted Mexican girl over at the Cheetah's dance room. Eventually I knew that stripper's real name and she had my phone number. We almost hooked up once, but I never got a hand job from her.

It's not just strippers, I've never been given a good hand job from a girl friend either. None of the girls I've dated have given me a hand job to completion. I did date a girl right after my divorce who I think was into giving hand jobs. I remember she liked to stroke my cock under the covers. At the time I assumed she was just trying to get me aroused. Now that I look back on it, I think she got off on it more than me. I know she really liked to touch dick but her parents were very religious. She probably learned the hand job thing in high school to avoid losing her virginity to horny seniors.

She also had this weird thing about flip flops. I think she must have had a hundred pairs or more in her bedroom closet. She told me she though it was really "hot" that I wore flip flops too, and it was one of the first things she liked about me.

We met on the Internet and back then I was fucking whatever girl would let me. She was a tad bigger than most of the girls I usually go for. So I decided I would just stay at home with her and fuck her a lot. I thought she might get skinny if I made her miss dinner by screwing her as often as I could. Whenever we finished fucking she would get hungry and want to go to I-Hop or something. I always made up some lame excuse and then I would work on getting her excited again. We would have sex and then she would forget about wanting to eat. I bet she lost 10 pounds in the month or so that we fooled around.

My stripper Corey was very sexy. She had a dark tan. I don't go for that normally, but on her it looked good. She had short brown hair that she had just "cut off" because her swimming pool had turned her hair green. She had large breasts that were very soft and they looked liked they may have been recently reduced from fake triple D's to natural D's. She was petite. She stood only 4'11 which technically means she is a midget. I did not hold this against her because even with the 5 inch stripper boots she had on I was taller than her by a head. I liked being that much taller than her.

Corey has a great smile and a very attractive face. A lot of strippers have nice bodies but they will often have hard faces or just aren't that pretty. I judge a women's beauty mostly from the face. By that measure, Corey was quite pretty. She was also thin without being skinny. I could tell she did not have to work out (other than the workout that one gets as a stripper) because she was naturally thin.

Corey complained that she was cold before the song for our dance played. She explained as we sat down we were "to wait for the song that's playing to stop" before we would have our dance. She explained this to me like I was a child, or like I had never been to a strip club before. She tried to convey to me that she was doing me a favor by letting by waiting so I would get a full song's worth of a dance. Like that was not standard practice in the industry to wait for the beginning of the song to start a lap dance.

I allowed the comment to pass between us because I did not want to spoil the mood. Corey worried about me. She kept asking me if she made me nervous. I went along with her ruse that I was a "rookie" to strip clubs. I repeated to her how nervous I was and I told her she was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. She laughed at my confession and told me I was crazy to think it.

Our song started she immediately took off her top and told me to spread my legs. I gave her high marks for her technique. I was turned on by the idea I was going to get a lap dance and became aroused. Corey noticed and rather than playing coy with me, or getting offended she began to rub me with her legs and grind her crotch against me.

Part of her dance included turning around and showing me her ass. When she did this she placed a finger on her panties and rubbed it up and down. I was not surprised. It was a standard ploy at this club. On the third dance her finger disappeared into her black panties. Either she knew a good magic trick or the sheerness of her bottom cover allowed her to finger herself. Either way I was excited to see such a thing.

Corey liked to take her hands and rub them around my erection without fondling or stroking it. It was a dirty maneuver designed as a very innocent one. . She liked to be both Madonna and whore. I found the competing designations to be exciting. She also like to be bossy. I told her that and she agreed. I think it was the first time she realized that she likes being in charge. She agreed with me it and said it was "kind of a turn on."
I don't remember when I asked her to marry me, but I do remember that she said yes. I told her I wanted to get married right away. Today. She suggested Las Vegas as a way to get hitched right away. I told her I loved the idea.

A few dances later I asked another stripper "forbidden" if she wanted to be Corey's bridesmaid. It turned out that "Forbidden" was Corey's BFF and was totally up for going to Vegas with us. I suggested to them both that we could go to Utah and all get married. Neither of the girls thought that joke was funny. Both forgot they were getting paid to pretend to have fun with me and think every thing I said was funny. I was a little pissed that I was not going to fictionally marry both of the girls. But at least Corey and I were still on. She told my friend the Mexican contractor to remember to "bring my husband back" the next time he went to the club.

After going to the strip club Card Shark and I decided to play racket ball. I spent more than 300 dollars paying for a gym membership at L.A. Fitness and our visit to the gym would be just my third time to the gym in four months.

We played for about an hour or so. Racket ball is a dangerous sport. was We played doubles with a couple of young college guys, and I was hit in the face. I thought about crying after I got hit in the face, but decided it would look like I was a punk so I didn't. I did ask everyone including Card Shark and his fiancee if the ball left a red mark on my face. Every one swore up and down that it did not. They all lied to me. I woke up this morning and saw a huge red mark on my face right were the ball hit me.

After the gym I hung out with card Shark at his fiance's house. Mrs. Shark's best friend was there. I have a small crush on her and it is no big deal. I crush on most women if they are somewhat attractive, and since by definition 50% of all women are rated higher than a 5.0 I have crushed on a lot of women.

I was supposed to get to walk down the aisle with "Ape" at the wedding but now I have been told I can't. I have to walk down the aisle with some fat chick friend of the fiance who has kids and is getting married. I know my only chance with Ape is getting to walk down the aisle with her at a wedding. I just know if I can get her attenion for a second she will see the real me and be attracted to me but now that chance is gone.

Ape and I did exchange several glances that night when Card Shark or the Misses made a salient point or two during our conversation. Even though we glanced at one another, I am convinced that Ape is being snooty to me for no good reason other than one time during a Halloween party I asked her to sit on my lap and you would have thought I asked to her to go killing Jews with me or something because she gave me a look that was part "deer stuck in headlights" and "I can't believe you think I am so slutty!" I don't think Ape is slutty. I just happen to know 4 glasses of wine on Tuesday is pretty mellow for Ape.

I only asked Ape to sit on my lap because she seemed drunker than normal and she had already groped a few guys that night so I figured what would be wrong with her also groping me. I guess a lot which is why I guess I will have to keep paying for girls to sit on my lap.

I need to come to terms that the 75 pounds I gained since high school took me from being just unattractive to scary ass ugly or whatever is worse than unattractive.

I guess I am bummed. All those years of back yard football prowess led me to believe that I was special that I had value. I grew up thinking anyone who could be all time quaterback* for 7 years running could not be that undesirable. Most of what is left of my self esteem stems from being an overachiever as a junior high kid where I got straight A's. I was also the best football player on my street. I used that hidden confidence to fuck a number of fat chicks after my divorce. In my twenties I used all that confidence to get drunk and get phone numbers at dance clubs. Not that I tried to get phone numbers often. But when I did it worked more often than not.

I got depressed hanging out with Ape and Card Shark. Card Shark wanted me to go play poker with him. Card Shark always wants to go play poker. I knew I was too hurt by Ape's lack of affection for me to be able to concentrate on poker well enough to win some money.

I am on hot streak again with poker. I won 280 dollars the other night and I won 60 dollars the time before. I am winning even though I am trying new games like 7 card stud hi/low split. I think hi/low games are some of the easiest to make money at, because so many people go for the low and forget about the high.

Another reason I did not want to go play poker was that I was all sweaty and gross from playing racquetball. I don't feeling dirty or sweaty. I am a high self monitor and I notice things like when I stink or look bad. I know that other people don't notice things about me as much I notice them myself, because they are so busy concentrating on themselves, but I still find it difficult to let go of my anxiety.

I would feel weird to me to go out in public without washing first. Card Shark told me he was going to take a shower first too and he invited me to shower at his house as well. I figured the fiance would be disgusted by me showering in her house so I declined the invite. To my surprise the fiance seemed genuinely undisgusted by the idea of me showering in her place and convinced me that it would be ok.

I washed my hair with Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo in the hopes that a waitress or female poker player would smell the shampoo on me and associate me with the happy smell of clean babies. I don't think any of the women that passed by me at the casino could tell I was tear free and sexy.

Card Shark and I sat down at a table that was spreading 7 card stud with a hi/low mix. Seated at the table was Connie Hawkins a famous Hall of Fame basket ball player from the 1960's and 1970's. Connie is well known in the local poker community and has played for years. I was surprised to see such a well known super star playing low limit poker but was happy to get the chance to sit down with such a talented player.

At one point in the game several players left the table and Connie Hawkins asked the dealer for a "rate reduction." For you novice poker fans a rate reduction lowers the amount of money the casino takes from the game (the rake) and it is often requested by semi and professional players when the number of players at the table has diminshed the chances of breaking even.

"Connie Hawkins just asked for a rate reduction." I whispered to Card Shark. "I have officially seen every thing." Mr. Hawkins was polite to all the players and enjoyed good naturely poking fun at some of us. When prodded he told us stories about his days as a pro player. He said a lot of the guys he played with liked to play poker back then, but that mostly they played home games that included a lot of wild cards and they almost never played Texas Hold'em poker's most popular variation today.

I won a lot of money off Connie Hawkins while playing poker with him.
It was not that he was such a bad player as that he often ended up "facing down" with me when I caught a huge hand. In one instance I had 4 kings. After seeing my 4 kings all he could say was, "Nice hand."

Mr. Hawkins did benefit from the best line of the night when I layed a solid hand down against him. Card Shark muttered, "Faced down by a Hall of Famer." Mr Hawkins nodded his head in agreement with Card Shark and repeated the line under his breath. He seemed to get a kick out of the line and all the cheers from the table's players. They made my loss that much easier.

A trip to a theme burger joint. Strippers. Poker. Hall of Fame Basket Ball Players. All in all a very Mantastic Day.

*Ask your boyfriend what an ALL TIMe QB is.