Is this where JeffB works? :)

coulda been worse.

Coulda been:

Vagina Depot

or

VaginaMax

In Tennessee, on the motorcade route that George Bush Sr. was about to take, there was a Strip Club with a sign that read "Come See Barbara's Bush". But, I think they were asked rather forcefully to take it down before the motorcade passed by.

Bed, Vagina and Beyond?

For the record, I know of the location they speak of. Heh.

Oh, one other thing: what's the deal with the "liquor = no bottoms" rule? When I first moved to L.A., here I was terribly excited to see some ragin' crazy stripping, figuring that L.A. was the place where porn stars would hang out for cash.

Well, guess what? You can enjoy that. . . you just can't drink. Hell, if I just wanted to see a chick topless, I'd pay bbeck a dollar and skip the trip.

Given how Virginia has a similar rule (pasties, all pasties), I simply don't understand.

Is there some magical gland (near the pituitary, perhaps) that takes alcohol, combines it with pooter, and then creates a raging homicidal maniac?

And what's the deal with pasties, really? Oooh, you're hiding your nipples, you're not really naked. . . WT-F-F?

Bah. I like my strippers like I like my lunch-- naked.

Cheers,
Dave at Garfield Ridge

P.S. Oh yeah, I like them behind closed doors, too. Stuff doesn't belong on billboards. Except maybe in Vegas, because, let's be honest, we're talking Vegas.

NJ has, or had, the same rule. No actual nudity with liquor. So naked-time strip clubs were "juice bars" where you'd have to pay seven bucks for an RC cola.

Worth. Every. Penny.

Oh, I know that about Jersey.

Three words: Fantasy. Show. Bar.

Good times, good times.

Three more words: Frank's. Chicken. House.

I never could get into the whole strip-club thing. Ten bucks just to get in the place, seven bucks for a coke, and some skank with tattoos and bad implants swinging from a pole like Clyde the Orangoutang. Pfft.

Growin' up, it was one of my few chances to visit Mom.

At least your Mom had a paying job, Ace. Whenever I visited my Mom, I had to help her finish her licence plates or else she got solitary.

P.S. Ahh, Frank's. You moved up a notch in my book, you filthy dog, you.

The same rule applies in Ohio. In Cleveland there's a strip bar called Circus that gets around the rule by having two separate rooms. One room is topless only and serves alcohol while the other is all nude and alcohol free.

I dropped $150 in about 1/2 hour in that place. Ahhhh the giddy mortage-free days of disposable income.....

If we sneak in and put a cross on it they'll have to take it down...

This stuff drives me out of my mind, pushes me further and further from my libertarian roots. I'm tired of it all. Tired of the now commonplace 'Fuck so and so" T-shirts, all the "Asshole..." riddled bumper stickers, tired of having to smile pretend it's all part and parcel of the amazing cultural circus that signifies the health of our 1st amendment and diversity of our society. Blah-fuckin-blah.

Now, I lookee the porn, I like to swear, but I embrace the 'hypocrisy' of employing a different standard for the public space. But fewer and fewer do. To get attention, to step above the crowd, the attention needy's calculated outrageousness ramps up and up and no one says anything for fear of coming off the prude or 'judgmental.' And as a result, the notion that there are limits on one's behavior short of direct nonconsensual physical harm to another disappear entirely (and how long can that last boundry last when a society has made an industry and habit of tearing up boundaries. Seems that the worst elements, those willing to do physical harm, are just the avant garde - the vanguard of the zeitgeist.) Yes, I'm an old crank, but we're screwed.

See-Dub, that was the best LOL of the day, pal.

South Florida, Atlanta, Hawaii. Booze and bush. All the time.

The first time I walked into the Cheetah Club in Atlanta I was instantly transformed into the three-legged monster of spooge. I swear to God, there were twenty BEAUTIFUL chicks, walking around with nothing but a smile and high heels.

Ya just gotta know where to go.

Dogstar,

'taj mahal' man [wink, wink]

Monty

I never could get into the whole strip-club thing. Ten bucks just to get in the place, seven bucks for a coke, and some skank with tattoos and bad implants swinging from a pole like Clyde the Orangoutang. Pfft.

Sung to the tune of the Old Negro Spiritual:

Amen! Amen! Aaaaaaaamen, Amen! Amen!

Heh. My "taj" was "mahal" that, and then some.

Indeed.

Another g-string-free zone- Toronto. Never been, but heard some great stories of chicks getting tipped by sitting on rolled up dollar bills.

Okay then...they should also take down that billboard depicting a young woman's very beautiful but clearly bare ass at the corner of Sunset & Crescent Heights.

And if it's still up...the one of two queers grab assing each other (Gay.com ad) at the corner of Santa Monica and San Vicente.

Fair is fair.

Personally, I consider the LAPD's random car searches near the arrival/departure ramps to be more of nuisance than this silly little tittie bar.

A big billboard announcing easy access to vaginas is not private, it's public.

Bah, kids today have it too easy, when I was young we had to...

There was that interesting 'bangle' era when the law said the dancers in any joint serving liquor had to wear panties. It didn't say where on their body the garment had to be worn, so it was often found adorning the wrist and leaving more interesting regions in full view. IIRC they've made the law more stringent since then but it was always good for a laugh even if you didn't spend time in such places.

Male tourist interviewed on KABC7 LA...

Reporter: Do you find it offensive?

Tourist: Of course not. Half the population has one.

Chez Paris. Montreal.

And it's cheap by U.S. standards.

Not that I frequent such places. Of course not. But I first heard about Chez Paris on a business trip to Melbourne from a bunch of Aussies who were raving about the place. Go figure. A few years later I was on a business trip to Montreal, and this place was half a block from my hotel. So, just curious, I stuck my head in the door.

Needlesss to say, it was quite a while before I came out.

Michael,

Did they make you leave cause of the cape thing? Was it just a little too weird even for the strippers?

hehe

Lipstick:

Nah, they were fine with the Batman suit.

The good thing about strip clubs is that there's this, shall we say, forgiving ambience. As long as you're forking out cash for the lap dances, you are accepted.

That's not to say that the girls at Chez Paris were totally mercenary. They really liked me. Really. They said so. And they sounded very sincere. One of the girls (that I spent about $400 Canadian on) actually admitted that she was using a stage name (Tiffany) and told me her real name, which was Buffy Baiser. It was obvious to me that she was telling the truth, because she had this cute French accent and Baiser is a French-sounding surname. She clearly had a crush on me.

I mean, do you really think I'm some gullible idiot who can be fooled just because women are waving their private parts in front of my face? No way.

Well Michael, I'm sure she loved you, and I'm sure you noticed that the second definition of Baiser is "to swindle". But as long as you had fun. :)

Did you end up with a small footprint in your back after the Visa bill came in?

"Did you end up with a small footprint in your back after the Visa bill came in?"

There was nothing on my Visa bill; Smallfoot is oblivious about this adventure. These places all can direct you to the nearest ATM. Not that I'm like really experienced about this or anything.

Probably just more proof that I'm crazy (first I defend Monica on this site, then I post this)...

but forget the strip bars. Give me HOOTERS or give me death!!

Sexy friendly gals, 100% legal, and ALL the frickin' scrumptious hot-n-spicy buffalo wings you can stuff down yer piehole... plus I'm one of those 1980s holdout-weirdos who still thinks nude tights are HOT!

STEVE
(Lakewood High School, class of '84)