If there’s one thing we like to do more than drink, it’s argue about really important stuff like are strip clubs good or bad. Here’s what it sounds like when when we do both at the same time.
Drunken Argument Against Strip Clubs:
Hey guys, I have a shitty idea! Let’s blow $500 on a night out and NOT get laid. Doesn’t that sound awesome? Yeah, so, first, we’ll pay a really huge cover to get into a "bar" that looks like it was last cleaned in 1984. And then once we get there, we’ll get to pay $15 for a watered down vodka tonic. And if that’s not enough, we’ll also get to see totally busted chicks caked in makeup…are you ready?…NAKED! Because if there’s one thing that gives me a boner it’s being surrounded by moist, gunked up carpet and shitty drinks. AMIRIGHT?!?!? Yes, dude. And if we’re really feeling lucky, we’ll get to pay them even more money to rub their used-up bodies all over us! But we can’t touch them. Or have sex with them (unless we want to pay even more! Wink wink!)
Doesn’t that sound awesome? I mean, it would be a waste of time to go to a boring old "regular" bar where we would pay a lot less but have the chance to meet girls we could actually have sex with, right?
Drunken Argument For Strip Clubs:
Let’s see here, what happens when you walk into a strip club? A half-naked woman takes me to my table and then an actual naked woman shoves her big-ass boobs and her big-ass ass in my face for $20. Hmm, yeah, that’s really a bad time. Then, when I’m done with that I sit there and watch some other naked girl swing around on a pole to Bon Jovi’s "You Give Love A Bad Name" or Motley Crue’s "Girls Girls Girls." Oh, man. How can I stand it?
I mean, I can think of absolutely zero things wrong with spending an evening like that. Sure, it costs a little more than one of those regular bars that are full of fat guys and girls with their clothes on, but that’s why I have a job. If I’m gonna spend my money, I’d rather spend a little more to get slapped around by some melons. And if you have any kind of game, you’d know that you can date strippers just as easily as you can any regular girls. And they know a helluva lot more in the sack than the wasted fatty you’re dragging back to your apartment at 3 am. You’re a shitty dumbass who’s afraid of tits. Get a job.
Now it’s your turn to chime in. Just follow these easy steps:
Step 1: Drink 7 beers
Step 2: Vote (You can vote as often as you want. Just refresh the page to vote again or see the newest results)
Step 3: Type whatever stream of consciousness bullshit that comes into your head on this topic in the comment section.
Step 4: Continue being awesome
(Note: Poll results–no pun intended–are slightly delayed.)