Tuesday, August 07, 2012

Dressed like a slob, keeps his hair braided

Some establishments have dress codes. Some are just the choice of the owners, some are common sense.

Like you don’t wear a ball gown to work at Arby’s.

Like you don’t wear a bikini to a 4 star restaurant.

Like you don’t wear jeans to the gym.

Speaking of the gym… hey guys? Can you wear your gym clothes to the gym, but not to the titty bar? I know sweats and jogging pants are comfy and shit like that, but seriously? I DON’T WANT TO FEEL YOUR PENIS ON MY THIGH.

This blog post is for both types of Gym Clothes Customers.

1st we have the dude who honestly doesn’t know that it’s creepy, gross, and skeevy to get lapdances while wearing gym clothes. There’d be less friction if I stuck a whisk up My cooter. Seriously. Kitchen utensils violating My uterus would be 100 times better than feeling your erection through polyester. Write this shit down because there WILL be a pop quiz.

PS: I can’t speak for every chick out there who doesn’t hate the dick, but I personally think that any dude that wears sweats, jogging pants, or pajama pants to ANY bar or nightclub should be beaten severely with the Fashion Stick. Just sayin. Just puttin that out there.

On to the 2nd kind of Gym Clothes Customer.

Mr. IDoThisOnPurposeBecauseI’mANastyFreak.

Yeah, I’m talkin to you, you McNasty bastards. You know who you are. You giggle to yourself while you choose which pair of paper-thin pants you’re gonna sport so that you give us lucky, lucky ladies extra attention with your Freak Stick. You can’t wait until you can use your barely contained Pork Sword to duel with random pelvises… pelvii? Whatever. It’s gross.

If it were up to Me, in every strip club, right next to the fire extinguisher, would be an Emergency Gym Clothes Perv Containment Kit.

Said kit would contain 3 items.

First would be a stainless steel crotch cover. You simply lay it over the offending lap and voila! Instant barrier between the pristine ecdysiast crotch and the Bonerville Parade.

Second would be a can of mace. No, fuck that… a spray can of rubbing alcohol and jalapeño pepper juice. Blind the dirty bastards!

Then, while he’s flailing around blindly, you whip out item number three! A car stereo antenna wrapped in barbed wire. Beat his creepy ass right out of the bar!

And as for you folks who do not fall into either category, I have something for you to remember also!

Dudes, if your wingman shows up to hit the strip clubs wearing gym clothes, threaten his life. Chase his ass back to his closet with a baseball bat. Or a rabid weasel. Whatever. Just get his ass in jeans! Or slacks!

Ladies! If a customer walks into your club in gym clothes, threaten to make his genitalia part of the chum they use on Shark Week. Threaten to coat him in Boiled Peanut-scented body spray and throw him to a pack of vicious, inbred, mountain women!
Seriously people. Just say no to gym clothes in the strip clubs!

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