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| worst strip club ever |
Jess is a bartender at my jamspot Temple Bar in Cambridge, but she also writes a blog about what a pain in the ass it is dating and/or boning people in the Spacebook age or something. I dunno, I just look at the pictures. Because I'm illiterate. And sexist.
She also writes a dating column in Worcester Magazine, and she was telling me about basically being called a slut in another publication in Worcester by some bitch ass hater. Worcester is where I went to college by the way. It's the birthplace of the diner, home to like ten good colleges as well as like ten thousand even better junkies, none of which I ever saw because my campus was like a fucking castle that kept out the poors with a moat of shame. Also a literal moat.
I asked her to share her story with you good adequate people. She talks about ass fucking at some point, so stick around:
I’ve been using my boobs and ass to sell alcohol for years. When someone asked me to use them to save lives, I thought, of course my breasts should work for a better cause.
A bone-marrow registry hired models to recruit donors. It was a secret: we’ve been standing around shopping malls, Fenway Park, Gillette Stadium, etc. in neon blue wigs for over a year. People are having heart attacks now because the registry overcharged some insurance companies. But according to Dianne Williamson in The Worcester Telegram, my boobs helping people with cancer are the real issue....
The “well-respected hospital hired the equivalent of souped-up strippers.” What does that even mean? Strippers with spinning rims? I wore more clothing working as a model than I do on a standard night out. I don’t get those free dinners for nothing.
“Models in black heels, short black skirts and lab coats like they were extras in a porn flick.” My lab coat was large and shapeless. I don’t know what porn flicks this lady watches but they wouldn’t get me off. How about a lab coat that doesn’t hide my ass and has holes for my nipples? Now I’m ready to play doctor.
And what was I thinking when I wore that same black skirt for a “real” job interview with a background check? I should let them know they hired a porn extra. Although I’d argue I’m qualified for a supporting role.
“Seductive skeletors are purring into the ears of impressionable young men, asking if they want to be heroes and save a life.” I also meowed into the ears of middle-aged men and young women and middle-aged women and transgender people and really anyone between the ages of 18 and 60. Take another look at my ass before you call me a skeletor. I’m no Beyonce, but it’s still sizable for a white girl. As for seducing, I’ve never used the line, “Do you want to be a hero?” to make anyone’s dick hard. “Do you want to fuck me in the ass?” works much better.
“It’s a wonder they didn’t offer a free lap dance with every DNA swab.” I often did, but the soccer moms of New England were just too busy to stick around for longer than it took to fill out the form. Plus what incentive was in it for me? The whole reason I took an hourly-rate day job was so I could put some clothes on and have a break from the champagne room.
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9 comments:
bitches gonna hate.
http://www.telegram.com/graphics/columnists/COLUMN01_columnist.jpg
explains it.
We don't judge people on their appearance here at PTSOTL. Unless they're funny looking.
The girl in the back has a blue wig on her tits.
That doesnt seem plausible.
there are other good things from worcester you know.
Oh yeah? Name 12
eleven george's coney island hot dogs and this place:
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2364/1709490588_d1d9a695ce.jpg
I buy all my mom's jewelry there.
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