You’re Bitching Up The Wrong Tree

Okay, visitors here know in a past not so distant life ago I was a bartender in a full nude strip bar. Many of y’all still ask me why. Why? The money was great and the scenery wasn’t that bad either. As well, many (not all) have judged my morals or judgment in career options, mostly I was told how I glorified the world of stripping when strippers are really disgusting slut whore beasts and are the lowest form of human on the planet, right after the douchebags who go to strip bars and pay to see naked women dance in their face. Yes, I simplified it for y’all, forgive me, but I never understood how or why people judge strippers. Strippers strip for whatever reason, I’m not real sure how many of them want to shake what their momma gave them in front of strangers for money. But, I know for a fact that there are reasons women strip, every single one of them has a reason. Some of those reasons have been explored here in the past, and I always get told that I’m very biased because I “lived” in their world too long while working as a bartender. How can that even be true or make sense.

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I thought that since I received this great example from an angered reader who wanted to reach out with her own information that this would be the perfect opportunity to take another moment to discuss choices of employment, perhaps motivations, and of course to glitzy lure of stacks of cash. In a moment, y’all will read the email I got yesterday explaining to me that I needed to be more clear to people so others who do strip or want a career in stripping have information so they don’t get fucked, literally. As far as my past posts, they are my own personal experiences OR experiences that were shared with me by real life strippers while I was a bartender. And, look people, again knowing from personal experience, some of the choices for employment are harder than others. So, read the email below, catch back up with me afterwords. If you ask me, the writer/sender was/is a stripper and got burnt somehow, I would assume she sued or attempt to sue her place of employment because one of her patrons tipped her with information instead of dollar bills. Just my humble opinion.

Begin email———————————–

1. Strippers, exotic dancers, showgirls, lap dancers, peep show dancers, & erotic entertainers are EMPLOYEES of the club they work for.

Stripping is a J-O-B. Strippers will never be independent contractors. It doesn’t matter if the boss calls a stripper an independent contractor or if it’s a term she applies to herself.  The reality is that the way strip clubs operate, the strippers working in can only be employees. It’s because management must exercise a certain amount of control over working conditions or else there would be chaos. Some might argue that management creates more disorder with their policies than order. Management need to figure out which dancers are going to work on any given shift; how many shifts there are in a day; how many hours each shift runs; many decide what dancers may wear at work; how many dances she perform on stage, and so on. The reason why strip clubs misclassify strippers as “independent contractors” is to dodge their employer obligations. The irony is that clubs say you’re an independent contractor but actually treat you like an employee.

2. Strip club employers must pay all their workers minimum wage, at a bare minimum.

Strip club employers must also pay into social security, worker’s compensation, employer taxes, & a slew of others good things that workers in any other industry are guaranteed as employees.  Personally, I think that strippers should get paid far more than minimum wages.  After all, not every chick is willing to take her clothes off in front of random strangers & gyrate on their laps to arouse them!  The management like the money strippers make for their business, but they don’t want to pay these women for their labor.  THIS IS ILLEGAL.

3. State labor laws state that it is illegal for an employer (here, the strip club owner) to take any portion of his/her employee’s (here, the stripper) tips.

To add insult to injury, management charge strippers for the privilege to work!You know:  those stage fees, quotas, commissions, piece rate system, locker fees, booking fees, etc, etc…. It’s also illegal for employers to require strippers to tip other employees (DJ, House Mom, Manager, Bartender, etc).  Management minimally pay non-stripper staff and expect strippers to underwrite the remainder of their wages.  Why are these fees-to-work illegal?  Because strippers earn their money through tips that customers provide for them.  Strippers use their tips to pay management these illegal mandatory fees. THIS IS ILLEGAL. Lets review by answering the following questions for yourself.

Were you misclassified as an independent contractor while being employed as a stripper?

Did management fail to pay you minimum wages while you were a stripper?

Did you have to pay management to work while you were employed as a stripper?

If you said “yes” to one or more of these questions, your labor rights were violated. Take action to assert your labor rights!

End of email——————————————-

**** On a very special note. The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog has not, will not, and cannot provide any legal advice. Visitors of this blog should consult with their own lawyer for legal advice. The information provided was for informational purposes ONLY. I claim no legal knowledge in regards to topics discussed here. Now, you’ve been warned and informed motherfuckers! ****

In reality I don’t care what people do with their lives, how they spend their money, or who they choose to see naked. I can, however, say that every single person who walks through the door of a strip club (employee or patron) has their own reason for being inside those walls. I mentioned before, my goal was to make money, as much as I could as fast as I could. Now, having a 8-5 job during the day and then working another 8+ hours afterwards as a “part time” sucked, I won’t lie, it made for long days/nights. As well, it was a 42 minute drive for me personally which racks miles up on the vehicle as well as adds just a few more hours each day. Yes, once at work the scenery, in general, was pleasant. The work environment was a bit weird because my involvement with the business of the club were pretty nil. I did, however, meet some very nice people along the way while I worked there, I’ll leave that part right there. Want to know more just read around this blog a little and you’ll see what I mean.

Getting back to how I or what I write about glorifies the occupation of stripping, because, lets face it together, I get accused of never writing about anything but strippers using their nakedness to separate men of all ages from their money in the shortest time possible. What y’all have got from me is the brutal honesty, not the fucking fairytale la la land some people seem to live in. I guess my point is simple, working as a stripper is what it is, it’s a choice someone makes, and often enough people get judged because in someone else’s opinion it was the wrong choice to make. Trust me, I’m 46 years old and still get grief from my mother because I bartended in more than one strip club over the years. “How can you do that to your wife and treat her without respect by working at a strip bar?” is my favorite question to date. My wife only had one dislike about me working there and that was the simple fact that I was getting in after 1 in the morning day after day and I was tired. I was tired and didn’t want to do anything except hang out around the house, I was a big fan of not going anywhere or not doing anything. In the end, it was my wife’s opinion that made me want to quit in the first place. She asked me to quit one time, and I made it happen that day. On the flip side, all joking aside here, she was the one that said I needed to get a part time job to fill some time, make a little money, and get out more. In fact, it was a friend of a friend of a friend of one of her co-workers that my wife gave me the number to call for the job. She was informed, the moment I went to the interview, that it was at a strip club. Her answer was it was decision either way, but told me I knew I could make some serious cash if I took it. Yes, she does not about my past life, not that it was talked about much.

Luckily, at the place I worked, everyone was an employee, we all had health coverage if we chose, we could participate in the 401k, they were workers comp compliant, the whole 9 yards. However, indeed, a portion of my paycheck was dependent on bar sales, door sales, and stripper tips. Yes, now I’m the bad guy. No, it wasn’t my rule, and nobody fought it, it was just the way it was I guess. But, they did not pay to dance, they did not have fees except for one, which was if you were scheduled to work and you were a no show/no call, you were given three days off without pay as a warning to be more courteous to your coworkers. It mentions minimum wage above, um no, how the average stripper was making from $18.00 to $23.00 an hour, plus tips, plus dances, plus whatever the hell else they were doing on the side, if anything. Again, I’m not defending the industry itself, merely where I worked.

Oddly enough, during the mere course of writing this post I have received 4 more emails “scolding” me for being a sinner, supporter of sinning, and indulging in the slavery which we collectively call the “sex trades” since stripping somehow falls into that category. Maybe I truly am blind, somewhat oblivious to the blythe which is that of the life of a stripper. But, wait….. for….. it….., I don’t care, I really don’t, I don’t care what people do which their lives. Well, that’s not altogether true, I do care that I contribute a large amount of my paycheck to pay for others to sit at home on the crack pipe, on the xBox, or on the porch, instead of them getting out and getting a fucking job. We’ll talk about that another time, I read a study recently that the average person on a combination of government service programs average about $19.20 an hour. Like I said, lets get back to that another day. My mere connection with the stripping industry is purely coincidental, meaning we would work in the same building, all of us dependent on the very steady stream of people entering the neon lit establishment we called a strip bar.

But, I understand, the easy thing to do is to judge those doing things we don’t agree with. We should just be happy people are out working instead of sucking on the welfare titty all day. Until we as human beings stop looking at the opposite sex with lust in our eyes there will always be a place where we can see the opposite sex naked. Have y’all been on the internet later, have y’all seen what y’all have been searching for, and y’all call me the pervert?  Again, another post for what people’s perversions are. Your choice, fucking hate me, if that gets you though the day, great, just fucking hate me. Meanwhile, I will give you something to think about, my final thought here today. All strippers have a story, a life, a family, and although you detest their industry or them as people, just remember it takes guts to strip in front of strangers, it takes courage to get out there to earn a living no matter what your craft may be. Before we get all biblical on me, remember, I don’t by into it, so in reality it’s a major waste of both of our times. But, as usual, I will get the emails, the comments, and so forth, and I will post here on this blog the ignorance that is spewed. There is no justice in the world, we all know it, sometimes we decide that instead of running away from life, we jump on that old hag, dig the spurs in deep, and ride her until that bitch throws us or we tame the beast. Your choice.

Opinions Of An Outraged Triage Nurse

Often times I’m asked by other bloggers to post stories or submissions to my blog since I have such a diverse cross section of readers that visit The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog. Sometimes emails are exchanged between friends with things that they thought were humorous in some way or tell a good story and they don’t want that story to go to waste or never be seen. I offer this promise, as it has always been here since the beginning, when readers contact me I usually try to accommodate the request, and the following submission y’all will read is just that, it has been passed along in emails for quite some time when it finally fell into the hands of my aunt who just happens to be a retired nurse. There are over 90 forwards of the email, mostly if I had to guess, to other medical professionals and such. She sent it to me to see if it was worthy to go onto my blog. After reading the message a few times I thought it will fit in here just perfectly. I like it when people vent, I especially like it when what is being vented about is relatable to myself, family, and the general public. Y’all will see some humor and sarcasm which I’m positive is from this emergency room triage nurse’s years of experience serving the public. I share this post with y’all today with my appreciation and gratitude to all the medical professionals who serve the public, my hat is off to y’all. I dedicate this to post to ALL of my doctor, nurse, and medical staff friends out their in the world.

Just remember, the views, opinions, and positions expressed by this submission from an emergency room triage nurse on The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog is hers alone, and do not necessarily reflect the views, opinions, or positions of The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog. By reading the following submission, you understand and do not hold responsible The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog for the contents of this submission. The following submission contains strong and coarse adult language which might offend the faint of heart, so reader discretion is advised, and now you have been warned.

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People of the world, I am a triage nurse at a busy emergency room in a major metropolitan city. There is much to be said about the people who come into emergency rooms and I’m taking my turn to give my personal opinion, so let me get started.

Do NOT come up to the front desk of the Emergency Room, fling your health insurance card at me, tell me that your doctor told you to come in, stand there with a bored expression on your face and cross your arms over your chest. That is not helpful. When I ask what you are specifically here for do not repeat that the Doctor told you to come in. When I ask what SYMPTOMS caused you to come in; Please do not say that it’s in the fucking computer to me. There are 16 God damn people behind you all sicker than your whiney morbidly obese smoking ass. I’m not going to take the 8 minutes to log onto the computer, log my way in and through your medical record until I get to the part where your doctor’s phone nurse writes “This asshole smoker called me because he’s got a cough” Just tell me that you’re here for the fucking cough!

If your spouse (usually the sensible one) drags you in for the stroke that you had 3 days ago and you still have facial droop, slurred speech, and one-sided paralysis do not state that “My wife made me come in” when I ask why you’re here. Just tell me what the fuck you’re here for. And after I put you in line to go back to the ER do not send your cringing hand-wringing co-dependant family members up to me every 15 minutes to ask if it’s your turn yet. IF IT WAS YOUR TURN WE WOULD BE CALLING YOUR GOD DAMN NAME. The window for stroke treatment was 3 hours. Now that you’re long past it you’re looking at a lengthy rehab. After 3 days another hour or four won’t make a lick of difference. Your anger, frustration, worry, and regret will not get you in any faster. As the slow truth of your stupidity sinks in do not glare at me.

Do not ask to talk to my supervisor or the hospital supervisor when I talk to you in the same tone of voice that you talk to me. This is not Burger King, you do not get it ‘Your way right away.’ The squeaky wheel does not always get the grease. Do not excessively first name me just because I’m required to wear a fucking hospital badge. Including my full name in every sentence is a shallow manipulation, an implied threat that unless you get your way another personally directed customer complaint is forthcoming. I am not stupid. Your threats annoy the shit out of me. Making it personal does not change the 3 hour wait. Making it personal may result in the often used “Therapeutic wait”  (reserved for true assholes). You do not want a fucking therapeutic wait.

Don’t cough in my face. Being in a hospital does not automatically excuse you from the social expectations that we as society have had of you since you were three. Do not be like the drunks who tell me that “If you didn’t want to be coughed (shit, spat, vomited, bled, pissed) on you shoulda’ been a carpenter” If you continue this behavior do not be surprised when I throw a towel over your face while you are in mid-cough or mid-sentence.

Do not tell me that you “Can’t breathe” in long rambling 20 word sentences. In the ghetto that may mean something different, Here in the ER we have different standards for what it really means to not be able to breathe. My bar of not breathing will be reset weekly by the people that are truly blue and/or about 30 seconds from coding from lack of Oxygen. There are people whose lungs are so diseased and scarred that they barely exchange oxygen on a good day with the help of their home oxygen tanks. These people come in and let their bodies do the speaking for them. They eloquently slump over their wheelchairs (or the ambulance gurneys) and are never so whiney about it as the 23 year old single smoking mom (of 4 kids by 4 fathers) who has been nursing an upper respiratory infection for a week or two.

Similarly, do not tell me that little Shantiqua is ‘bleeding bad’ with her 1cm cut, that your bullshit pain is 10/10, that you are suicidal when you took 3 Tylenol instead of 2 (gasp!) after mommy grounded you, or that because your emergency is the worse that you’ve ever had, that it’s the worst that could possibly happen in the sum total of human experience. I’m supposed to act like your story is the saddest tale that I’ve ever heard. It’s not. Sad? Sad is when the drunk driver that killed the kids is unhurt. Sad is when someone is actively psychotic but still lucid enough to know that they have driven away everyone in their life and ruined everything with their madness. Sad is listening to the same beautiful young woman beg for some medicines that will stop the hallucinations while crying in frustration and screaming her angst.

Sad is when people pull up to the front of the hospital with a dead relative in the passenger seat of their car. I mean this guy had been dead for 15 minutes and the family only focused on driving to the hospital. Did they pull over and call 911 in an area where the average response time is 5 minutes? No. Did they do CPR? No. Did they expect me to single-handedly yard this 265 lb guy out of the car, into a wheelchair, back to the ER, do CPR, code him just like on TV, and make a miracle happen? Yes! Yes that’s exactly what they expected. I sat there with my fingers stuck in his throat where his pulse should have been and said “He’s dead, he’s been dead for 15 minutes. What is it that you expect us to do?” We argued over his blue/gray corpse for about a minute before I reluctantly took him back to the ER and started the rain dance. Guess what? After we abused his corpse for 20-30 minutes (not my decision) he was STILL DEAD. Who would have thought?

Yes, I know what’s going on tonight. I’ve seen your exact symptoms hundreds of times. I order your X-rays, labs, ECG, and then read/interpret them (and you) before deciding where you’re sent. The whole model of my HMO’s emergency service (and the withholding of that service) is built on our clinical judgement. I am not (nor do I want to be) a doctor and I am not allowed to ‘diagnose’. Yet my job responsibilities and description require me to do exactly that in order to facilitate care. This arrives us at a legal fallacy where we (nurses) all pretend that we don’t know what’s going on and that “you’ll have to talk to the doctor” in order to keep our jobs and licenses. When we do tell people exactly what’s up, they use that to decide to leave (without seeing a doctor = legal mess), or argue ( = pain in my ass), or press for more medical advice, or complain, or ask for special treatment, or otherwise cause problems. Tired of not being told what’s up by the person with the knowledgeable smile? Tough shit. No, I’m not stupid. Telling you has only got me into trouble in the past. As I don’t know you, you’re not worth it.

Do not believe that because your doctor told you to come right to the ER that you have a right to be seen right away. Let us discuss why he really said that; LIABILITY. Your doctor doesn’t give a rat’s ass about little Johnny’s sniffles as long as he’s out of the clinic before 5:00. Filling up his over-booked appointment calender could have an adverse affect on that, but sending them ‘right away’ to the ER won’t! AND no one can ever sue him for bad advice or irresponsible behavior because he TOLD them to go the ER ‘Right away’ for the ‘Highest level of care.’ Gotta keep those malpractice premiums down! Motherfuckers.

There are only two things worse than a doctor that won’t see his own patients:

1) The worse thing is doctors that not only won’t see their own patients, but they send them into the ER with a wildly unrealistic set of expectations. “My doctor told me to come in right away and to go right back! He said I was too sick to wait in the lobby. He ordered you to do tests, they are (stop me if you’ve heard this one before) ON THE COMPUTER”. I’m not taking shit for orders from some lazy-ass, wart burning, boil lancing, sprained ankle rotating, sore throat examining general practitioner who has assessed you OVER THE PHONE and doesn’t even have ER privileges. Piss-off! you can get an appointment at the clinic in three hours and you’ll be fine. Walk down to the lab yourself if you want those tests.

2) Advice nurses are the bane of our existence. Sure they can’t tell everything over the phone, sure people are generally bad communicators, sure the clinics and doctors are over-booked, sure it’s 2-6 weeks out to even see a doctor, sure my cheap-ass HMO added another 90,000 new members last month but no infrastructure to deal with them, but the solution for this is not Not NOT to ‘go to the ER right away where they will fill the fantasies that our unscrupulous marketing department has instilled in you.’ Fuck off. I love getting advice nurses for patients. They must know because they are reluctant to mention it. We hate them all and feel no shame in railing against them while they suffer (off the clock) in their sick and/or injured misery.

People! I could go on for days and days, but I will spare you. Think about every miserable customer service job that you’ve ever had and multiply that by tenfold with whiney patients. It’s not that I hate people; I just hate peoples’ sense of entitlement and instant gratification. Folks might as well say “I have abused my body for decades and I’m here for you to fix me.” WTF?

To review:

1) Don’t be an asshole
2) Lose the weight, stop smoking, take your damn psych meds, and take care of yourself!
3) Its not our fault or responsibility that you’re sick/injured. In fact, it’s probably yours.
4) Folks that arrive dead usually stay dead
5) It’s not like on TV
6) Years of patient abuse have (clearly) left us all a bit burnt
7) Don’t forget your manners when you come to my ER : )

I Have A Message For One Person

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But y’all can read it just as well. I’m not going to yank out my soap box but I am going to say my fucking piece while it is fresh on my mind. Earlier today I was at the mall to get a new pair of shoes. It has been 8 years since I bought the shoes I’m retiring because I buy shit that lasts and I take care of them. Anyway, when it was my turn in line the young lady rang up my total, I pulled out my VA card and cash, then asked her what my new total was. Before she could do anything I hear screaming from behind me from this woman yelling at the clerk telling her that I didn’t deserve the fucking military discount that this baby killer was begging for like a dog wanting fucking scraps. I’ve been called many derogatory names in many different languages in my life but this bitch was seriously pissed off at me. At first I was thrown by her words, after a quick breath I turned to her with this, my favorite movie quote.

“As a military member, I have more responsibility here than you could possibly fathom. And that my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. I know deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you don’t want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a person who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then question the manner in which I provide it. I prefer you said THANK YOU, and went on your way”.

She, of course, stood there with her fucking piehole wide open, at a loss for words I assume, she didn’t have a clue what I just told her. I am not a person who raises his voice or hand to a woman, and in a calm voice I asked if there was going to be anymore stupid fucking shit spilling over her lips. While I stared into her lifeless eyes for a few moments she turned to her five young children and told them they were going to a different store, one that doesn’t support murderers and baby killers. I’m not an emotional man, but when I turned to the clerk I had tears in my eyes, she touched a nerve that I couldn’t control. Wanting to continue my purchase I handed the clerk my cash, she closed it in my hand and said she will not except my money. She voided the transaction and then I watched her as she bagged my box with the shoes just before she handed it to me. She turned her head, I watched her wipe tears away, and she tells me thank you, some of us will always appreciate your sacrifices to our country, we love each and every one of you, we really do.

What do you say? How do you say it? She came around the counter and gave me the most sincere hug I have felt in a long time. I left there smiling, not because I was given shoes, but for the first time ever in person, a perfect stranger openly admitted that she appreciated our military and our services to our nation. That rarely happens in our society and I got to be a part of it, I will remember this day for a long, long time.

What Are The Seven Deadly Sins?

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  • PRIDE is excessive belief in one’s own abilities, that interferes with the individual’s recognition of the grace of God. It has been called the sin from which all others arise. Pride is also known as Vanity. Your punishment in Hell will be: You’ll be broken on the wheel. Associated symbols: Pride is linked with the horse and the color violet.
  • ENVY is the desire for others’ traits, status, abilities, or situation. Your punishment in Hell will be: You’ll be put in freezing water. Associated symbols: Envy is linked with the dog and the color green.
  • GLUTTONY is an inordinate desire to consume more than that which one requires. Your punishment in Hell will be: You’ll be force-fed rats, toads, and snakes. Associated symbols: Gluttony is linked with the pig and the color orange.
  • LUST is an inordinate craving for the pleasures of the body. Your punishment in Hell will be: You’ll be smothered in fire and brimstone. Associated symbols: Lust is linked with the cow and the color blue.
  • ANGER is manifested in the individual who spurns love and opts instead for fury. It is also known as Wrath. Your punishment in Hell will be: You’ll be dismembered alive. Associated symbols: Anger is linked with the bear and the color red.
  • GREED is the desire for material wealth or gain, ignoring the realm of the spiritual. It is also called Avarice or Covetousness. Your punishment in Hell will be: You’ll be boiled alive in oil. Associated symbols: Greed is linked with the frog and the color yellow.
  • SLOTH is the avoidance of physical or spiritual work. Your punishment in Hell will be: You’ll be thrown into snake pits. Associated symbols: Sloth is linked with the goat and the color light blue.

The seven deadly sins are the sins to which we as humans are most susceptible because of our fallen human nature. They are the tendencies that cause us to commit all other sins.  They are called “deadly” because, if we engage in them willingly, they deprive us of sanctifying grace, the life of God in our souls. The Seven Deadly Sins have been in existence since man’s exile from paradise. Ever since the days of Adam of Eve, we encounter seven deadly sins. These seven deadly sins make a definite borderline between what is good and what is bad. All stories in Bible mention each of these sins which result in death and Hell. These stories educate and instruct followers about man’s tendency to sin. Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Anger, Greed and Sloth are the major sins. These sins represent the opposition to the seven major virtues, which each person should possess from the point of view of Christianity. They are accordingly opposed to the seven primary virtues of Humility, Love, Faith, Self-Control, Kindness, Generosity, and Zeal.

So, my big question will be is it possible for any man, woman, or child to live their life to the fullest without Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Anger, Greed and Sloth. I may not agree with the Bible but I do know this little tidbit, based on the writings found inside it, and that is that the sinister places described within are very descriptive, very colorful, and very ruthless. Again, as it is written, Christians are forced to fear being alive and just living their lives. Doesn’t seem like a fair way to live one’s life if you ask me. Can y’all imagine if the authors of the New Testament were around today? Could y’all imagine the horror movies they would be capable of writing? My own observations of the Bible are like this, IT is full of drama, horror, death, doom, “sin”, adventure, and fantasy. I repeated get told not to take the Bible literally because it isn’t written literally. Final question, then I’m done. If I’m not to take the Bible as literal does this mean it’s not a biography, that it’s not historical, and not factual? Seems to be the case, therefore, in my eyes, it remains some of the best fictional writing known to mankind.

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Never "Pounce" The Messenger

Originally Posted To: Hate Mail on 12 June 2013

You want funny? After posting the story “The First Impression” I got an e-mail from a very angry mother demanding I provide her with the full name of A.K. so she can protest her employment to the execs at Disney World. She used some colorful language about me and A.K. that I will post here momentarily after I say a few words. I gave an understood promise that I would withhold all names in the stories passed upon to me. I plan on upholding my part of the deal. Eventhough these stories night be tall tales or well elaborated I still take into consideration to post them as they appear in my in-box and that will never change. I do respect the opinions of the people who read my blog. However, people need to respect me by understanding that these are my blogs. I don’t write or post things for fame or fortune, I post for fun and to share the world around me. Every single person makes a choice coming to my blogs and they are free to make the choice to leave as well, no harm, no foul. So, on to her e-mail.
 

 

“Mr. Scorpion Sting,

 

 
I found your post about the girl who plays the character of Tigger at Disney World very distasteful. I would think that a father of three and grandfather of one that you would be able to see the disturbing characteristics displayed by this slutty girl. By writing this post you have put a smear on  everything about Disney. If she is actually an employee at Disney World it is your obligation to turn her in to the management because she is around small children as well as adults. Do you think it would matter to her if she went around fucking married men or boys under the age of 18? If you do then you are just as sick as this slut. To think that she is as desperate as she stated and is using her position for her own sexual pleasures. I understand that there is dating in the workplace, with customers, and visitors, but Scorpion, even you should be able to see that the behavior is grossly inappropriate for where she works. The story put images in my head which I can’t get out now. We recently made a trip to Disney World and we have many pictures of our family with Tigger. If I would have read this story before I would have never ever let any of the characters near my husband, kids, or myself since I would have been fearful that Tigger was sizing us up for a pouncing.

 

 
As I sit here, looking at all of the pictures we had with Tigger I am forced to wonder if A.K. is in the suit and what she is thinking. You might consider taking down this post because I see big trouble coming for you. I am planning to write to the executives of Disney World to inform them they have a slut running around in a Tigger suit and her behavior is unspeakable. My letter would make more of an impact if I had this girl’s real name so they can properly remove her from employment. I ask nicely this time for you to provide it to me.

 

 
Sincerely,
Alice W.
Eau Claire, WI”

 

 
First, there is no chance in hell I will ever provide anything to anybody without a court order. Fat chance getting that since you don’t have an actual complaint or grievance. I forwarded your e-mail to A.K. and told her to reply to you as she pleases and only if she pleases. I wouldn’t hold your breath. In all fairness I will remind everyone, Alice, that you need to read things like my blogs with a grain of salt. Not everyone tells the truth all the time. According to A.K. her story wasn’t embellished in any way and she is still an employee for Disney World. If nothing else, just understand that we all don’t live the same lives with the same structure as everyone else. I look forward to hearing from you again because I don’t think you are actually done and still need to unload some more bullshit in my in-box. Until we meet again Alice……..Get Off My Tail Unless You Are Going To Stroke It!