tkihshbt wrote:

Does every woman in Phoenix have a sleeve of tattoos?

If so im moving there

APIAD wrote:

tkihshbt wrote:

Does every woman in Phoenix have a sleeve of tattoos?

If so im moving there

Since I left ASU, the population of Maricopa County has increased from 1.5 million to more than 4 million. And you can probably add another 400,000-500,000 undocumented immigrants. 
There are towns like Chandler and Surprise that were dots on a map 35 years ago, and they're now huge communities. Even Scottsdale was a relatively quiet community with some nice golf courses back then. 
When I went back in 2004, I was astonished at how much more of the desert had been developed. Irrigate another 100 square miles and boom, you've got yourself another town. With tattoo parlors, one would assume.

Last edited by artie_fufkin (4/27/2016 9:14 am)

forsberg_us wrote:

Not that this isn't a fascinating topics, but has anyone else noticed that the Cardinals are leading MLB in HR and runs scored?

Where the hell did that come from?

Quiet, we are discussing strippers, juice bars, C-section scars and the prominence of women with tattoos in Phoenix. But if I had to answer your baseball-related question, I would say the team is embracing the Slumpbuster. 
 

Also, Brandon Moss being healthy, the addition of Gyorko and Piscotty tapping into his power potential is having an effect. Combine that with the weirdness of Hazelbaker and Diaz, the resurgence of Holliday and Molina, Carpenter's steadiness and Grichuk's improvement and voila, you get a very powerful lineup.

Plus, they can fight off some Hazelraker/Diaz regression with improvement by Adams and Wong and the return of Peralta and Pham.

tkihshbt wrote:

forsberg_us wrote:

Not that this isn't a fascinating topics, but has anyone else noticed that the Cardinals are leading MLB in HR and runs scored?

Where the hell did that come from?

Quiet, we are discussing strippers, juice bars, C-section scars and the prominence of women with tattoos in Phoenix. But if I had to answer your baseball-related question, I would say the team is embracing the Slumpbuster. 
 

What's the average number of teeth for a Slumpbuster from Cincinnati? Eight? Four? 
Then again, depending upon one's proclivities, fewer teeth may be a good thing. That one nagging random incisor could be prone to snagging foreskin.
 

Last edited by artie_fufkin (4/27/2016 11:06 am)

tkihshbt wrote:

forsberg_us wrote:

Not that this isn't a fascinating topics, but has anyone else noticed that the Cardinals are leading MLB in HR and runs scored?

Where the hell did that come from?

Quiet, we are discussing strippers, juice bars, C-section scars and the prominence of women with tattoos in Phoenix. But if I had to answer your baseball-related question, I would say the team is embracing the Slumpbuster. 
 

Well, if we're going to continue down the path of stripper stories, I have an embarrassing number of stories I could add.

One of my favorite strip club stories, however, involves an athlete from a sport you're not fond of--hockey.  One night we were over at PT's after a Blues/Vancouver game.  All of a sudden, in walks a large group of guys who turn out to be about half of the Canucks players, including Mark Messier.  Messier is doing everything possible to be incognito--the whole time he was there he wore a ski cap pulled down almost to his eye brows--but we recognized him almost immediately.  Naturally, we decided to mess with him.  My one friend, who has spent way too many nights in a strip club, calls over one of the waitresses he knows and slips her a couple of bucks to walk up to Messier and say: 

Waitress: Are you Mark Messier?

Assumed Response: Yes.

Waitress: Are you really teammates with Mattias Ohlund? I think he's cute.

The waitress does exactly what she's been paid to do and the conversation appeared to go exactly as we expected, except that it turned out Ohlund was sitting directly across from Messier.  Messier starts pointing at Ohlund, and the waitress was left to figure out how to get away from a newly energized Swede.

The other hysterical thing that happened that evening was while Messier was trying to remain discreet, he happened to be sitting in front of a projection screen that was probably 10 feet wide.  As he was sitting there, a commercial (I think it was Doritos) featuring Messier comes on the TV. So much for being discreet.

forsberg_us wrote:

One of my favorite strip club stories, however, involves an athlete from a sport you're not fond of--hockey.

Au contraire. I was a big fan of NHL 98, which is probably the greatest hockey video game ever made. I always played as the Avalanche because Sakic and Forsberg were unstoppable, and they had awesome uniforms.

This is about all I can muster in response to you and Artie's stripper stories. I got nothin'.
 

"Plus, they can fight off some Hazelraker/Diaz regression with improvement by Adams and Wong and the return of Peralta and Pham."

They need to ditch adams and wong.  They are the 2 worst position players on the 25 man roster.  This is there 3rd year in the bigs...they just are not that good of players.  Certainly not everyday players.  Id sell them to the highest bidder and start low.

tkihshbt wrote:

forsberg_us wrote:

One of my favorite strip club stories, however, involves an athlete from a sport you're not fond of--hockey.

Au contraire. I was a big fan of NHL 98, which is probably the greatest hockey video game ever made. I always played as the Avalanche because Sakic and Forsberg were unstoppable, and they had awesome uniforms.

This is about all I can muster in response to you and Artie's stripper stories. I got nothin'.
 

Strip clubs are a bad investment for a boner.  Ill just drink in a regular bar, buy $80 in scratch off tickets and jerkoff when i get home.

Since we're talking bachelor party stories. I was still working at the police department at the time, so we're talking about a bus-load of guys with guns and get out of jail free badges. We started the night at the police union hall where we had privately hired strippers. The private strippers were an important part of the evening because my future father in-law was in attendance and I needed to gauge just how far I could push things. Luckily, his former firefighter persona took over

From there, we took a bus to the East side. We first ended up at PT's in Sauget. It was a brief stop. Immediately upon entering, my FFIL runs into the bar with a dollar bill behind each ear and another in his mouth. He the. Launches himself on his back onto the first stage in the bar and announces his presence. Watching the stripper remove the dollars with various parts of her naked body, I knew I had a lot of latitude. Unfortunately, we were only there about 15 minutes when we were asked to leave when one of the guys got caught taking a dollar from the stripper's stage to give to her. Apparently that's a no-no.

From there, we ended up at another strip club called Roxy's. It's a real dive, but the rules there are even more lax than they are at PT's. The feature event at Roxy's was the "shower dance" which featured 2 women, a shower, no clothes and friendly tounges.

So we're at Roxy's for however long when the DJ comes over the mic and calls me to the center stage. It turns out that for enough money, the bachelor can be stripped to his underwear and get a shower-side seat for the shower dance.  There's one strict rule, you have to sit back in the chair and not move. So now I'm in my boxers in a glass shower stall with 2 naked women dancing on me (and probably 100 guys watching, but I'm drunk so who cares) when one of the dancers puts one foot on the chair and the other on top of the shower wall while the other starts to go to town about 12 inches from my nose. I probably made it 10 seconds before I started to lean in. I don't know whether I wanted a better look or thought I was going to help, but the next thing I know I'm getting yanked out of the shower and we get thrown out of the bar.

Fortunately, there's another strip club directly across the street so we walk over there and hang out for a little while longer. At goodness knows what time we start gathering everyone to leave when we realize that we're missing one guy who came with us. This is before cell phones, so we have no way to find him. The guy who was missing was a black guy, which is only important because just down the road is another strip club, the Pink Slip,that catered to the black crowd. Since we can't leave our friend, Two other guys and I go down to that bar to see if he's there.

As soon as we open the door, it was like a scene from a movie--the whole bar stopped. We explained to the bouncer why we were there and he agrees that I, and only I can walk around with him to look for our missing friend. I swear this guy never left my side, and I had a much greater sense that he was there to protect me, not out of concern for what I might do. We walk around the bar to no avail--we don't find him.

We went back to Roxy's but didn't find him there either. After an hour of looking, we had to leave without him. The next day we found out that he had hooked up with a back alley prostitute who was apparently partnered with a crooked cop and the two of them robbed him and left him behind the Pink Slip between the dumpsters. Apparently a St. Louis badge doesn't carry much weight in Brooklyn, Illinois.

"one of the guys got caught taking a dollar from the stripper's stage to give to her. Apparently that's a no-no."

Other than actually jumping onto the stage and trying to dry hump the dancer, that's about the most serious breach of strip joint protocol one can muster.
There's no way in hell I can compete with Fors' bachelor party (mine was really, really tame because my born-again cousin took over the preparation. We spent most of the night at a greyhound track), but here goes my favorite strip joint story:
Part of the annual Buffalo trip includes a sojourn across the border into Ontario, to a club called the Sundowner, which after the aforementioned Tootsie's in Miami is the best of its kind I've ever been to.
The talent is top notch. And since the relaxation of the prostitution laws in Canada a few years ago, there is a building next door that offers you a more intimate experience with one of the dancers, if both parties are willing and, one would assume, financial considerations are involved.
I'm at a point in my life, and Fors may be in the same situation, where about 30-40 percent of my friends are divorced. I can tell you there is no living thing more driven by his libido than a recently-divorced, late 40s/early 50s man.
We had two such members of our group last year, including my buddy Roger, whose divorce had become final about six hours before our plane took off. Needless to say, Roger was looking for some action. 
We get to Canada and about five minutes after we arrive, Roger is pulled into the orbit of a dancer who I would describe as a goddess - about 6-feet tall, but slender, with long blonde hair. Roger negotiates whatever details that need to be worked out, and they leave, for what we assume is a liaison that will last a considerable length of time.
Not 10 minutes later, he returns. Plops himself at our table, dabbing his nose with a Kleenex to staunch a slight trickle of blood. Of course, everyone wants to know what went wrong.
Roger: "I guess I should have warned her before I stuck my finger up her ass."
Once the laughter died down about 10 minutes later, the group took a unanimous vote to absolve Roger of any beverage-related financial responsibility for the remainder of the evening.


 

Last edited by artie_fufkin (4/28/2016 12:01 pm)

Seems to me the ungrateful wench should have given Roger a discount rather than hit him.

There's a line from an episode of NYPD Blue when Sipowicz is trying to teach his oldest son about being a beat cop that goes something like "People, businesses, the things they do and the times they do them," that rang very true for me.  I had been a cop for about a year, and I was assigned to an area north of the Delmar Loop, which won't mean anything to Artie, but TK will probably know exactly where I'm talking about.  The area is the most popular business/entertainment district in town, with a long line of shops, restaurants and live music venues along Delmar, but all the streets north of Delmar were filled with mutli-family housing units (mostly 6 family) that, at the time, were mostly filled with Section 8 housing occupants and known for a high volume of drug activity.

One midnight watch, I noticed that a couple of different cars keep going to the back alley, fire escape entrance to one of the buildings in the area, usually around 4:30 a.m.  Thinking I had likely stumbled upon some drug activity, I decided to set up on the building the following night and sure enough, about 4:30, here comes a car.  As it parked, I pulled in behind it assuming it was about 50-50 I was going to end up in a foot pursuit, but instead out steps a female, OK looking, with a pretty nice body.  Turns out she and her two roommates were strippers at the aforementioned Roxy's.  Their shift usually ended about 4:00, and they would get home around 4:30.

Now I've learned that I have 3 women coming home in the middle of the night with large amounts of cash, so instead of drug activity, I have 3 potential robbery victims (another issue with that part of the area).  Being a diligent young police officer, I give her my pager number (yeah, it was that long ago) and tell her that if she or any of her roommates are coming home in the middle of the night, they should call and if I could, I'd make sure they got into their apartment safely.  (Ain't I a gentleman?).  

This goes on for a couple of weeks when the one decides to invite me to come watch her dance on my day off.  I'm single, so I decide why not.  I get a couple of buddies and head over to Roxy's.  Every time this girl and her other roommate get on stage I'm getting extra special attention.  After about an hour, the girl who invited me (the one I first encountered) tells me I need to come with her because she wants to thank me with a "private dance."  I go back with her into the private dance area, which is a long couch along the wall with partitions set up to create smaller units.  We get back there and she is just going to town, and I'm clearly into it, at which point she unzips my fly and starts to pull out my junk because she wants to have sex right there.  Now I'm a fairly adventurous guy, but I'm not about to have sex with a stripper in the strip club and without a condom, so I get her to stop.  She did thank me later at her apartment.

I had to stop going over there apartment after one night when I saw a fairly decent amount of drugs in the apartment (strippers and cocaine--who knew those things went together).  I told them that I wouldn't arrest them, but I wasn't about to risk my job for a piece of ass.  It was a fun couple of weeks though, and even after I stopped going over to the apartment, I could still get a little extra attention at the strip club if she was working.

So I ended up having a 3-week romp with a stipper thanks to knowing the "people, businesses, what they did and the times they did them" within my patrol assignment. Turns out Sipowicz was a pretty wise man.

Last edited by forsberg_us (4/28/2016 1:34 pm)