Friday, February 3, 2012

These things weigh on my mind.

On my way into work today, I witnessed a portly, hairy fellow in a kilt walking into the strip club next door.  Here's how my brain processed this:

"That guy is NO JOKE in a kilt going into a strip club.  I bet the strippers all know him as Kilt Guy and I would put money on the fact that they are sufficiently creeped out by the fact that there is only a manskirt between them and Kilt Guy's junk.  I hope he is at least hygienic, though I'll allow myself the luxury of judging that due to the fact that he is entering a strip club solo and kilted up at one in the afternoon, he is not hygienic.  I wonder why they don't make that a requirement to get into strip clubs.  You should have to show your ID and that you have washed your hands before coming in.  They could even have a special hand sanitizer pump when you walk in, like, "Please disinfect your hands before touching the strippers."  AND, you could put glitter in the hand sanitizer so the strippers wouldn't mind even more, because not only do you have clean hands, but you have clean and sparkly hands!  So then the strippers would know who had clean hands and who didn't, because if push came to shove and I had to be a stripper, I would at least insist on widespread usage of disinfectant.  But, I would also not allow any creepy Kilt Guy near me.  In fact, I probably wouldn't want any creepy guy near me, which I think would make me a rather poor, useless and ineffective stripper.  Although... I bet they get discounts on hot wings."

And just like that, I want hot wings for dinner and a market for strip club disinfectant.

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