The Ghost Of Halloween’s Past

When I was a kid around 7 or 8 I had a really great friend. As we got into our early teens we were very close, and now looking back I realize just how close. She was the person I talked to about anything and everything, I even talked to her about girls and she talked to me about the boys. We had that real close cousin type of friendship even though there was no blood relationship, but we were more than friends, our connection went deeper than that, much deeper than one can simply imagine. So, in “honor” of my great friend in life I would like to share some memories, I hope she wouldn’t mind.

The first time I met Gabby I was probably 7 or 8 years old, I was spying on the new girl on the block as she helped her parents unpack the moving truck and I was truly fascinated with everything about her. I was up high in the tree in our front yard, as quiet as a hawk searching for movement in the tall grass, as I watched her blonde hair whip around in the breeze. I got distracted for real and was watching two squirrels fighting over something at the end of the very branch I was laying on. Out of the blue I heard a quiet voice, the whispering voice of a girl asking me if I wanted to climb down so I could play with her. After I climbed down we walked back to the bayou where we caught and played with the crawdads that were everywhere. We didn’t talk much about anything, we just got muddy, laughed, and played. Later on we hear her dad calling out in the distance for Gabby to come home. With big eyes she stole a kiss on the cheek, told me thanks for playing with her, and she was gone into the wind. We would play like this, for hours at a time after school and on the weekends.

We went trick-or-treating together that first year she moved in and that became our “little tradition” for many years to come. We would do crazy shit all year long, pranks, jokes, and so on, always doing it together as much as time would allow. In our early teens our friendship took a turn to the best I think, I never heard her complain either, she noticeably was going from little girl to a young lady. As this happened, we played allot of show and tell and allot of spin the bottle and a fair share of truth or dare, always just us two, nobody else was allowed to participate. It’s just the way it was. Before long we knew more about one another than each other knew about themselves, inside and out. But this was all about to end, I was moving away the summer between 8th and 9th grade to live with my dad in another state. It was a surprise and crushing blow for all of us, family included, as everyone guessed us to start dating because we were inseparable at all times. That was a hard summer for me, I crashed an ultralight aircraft attempting to get my amateur aviation license which should have killed me, but it didn’t luckily. Unfortunately, on my final trip back home at the end of summer, to pack and say goodbye, I was given the terrible news that my dad had a fatal accident while participating in a exposition air show. I buried him a week later. All my plans died with him that day, but the only person I felt I could talk with or just sit with was my best friend Gabby.

High school started right on cue, we had unofficially started dating, meaning we did everything together but weren’t actually together, but everyone but us called it dating, we are just good friends. By our sophomore year the boys were really noticing her and time in our friendship was being stretched beyond control, something had to go, and that something just happened to be me. She dated many boys, I didn’t really have a serious relationship until 11th grade which made our friendship even stranger. In the beginning of that relationship Gabby played dirty, in my spare time she was there, flirting harder than ever, always naked around me when we were alone, always tempting me with the very thing I always thought I wanted, but it never happened, but according to her rumors we were together, we were fucking, and I was taken. A nice story that ended badly. We didn’t speak again until the night of our graduation, where she told me she was leaving soon to go to Air Force basic training, a place I was also going to be but got accepted into college so my enlistment was delayed 24 months. That was it, my first crush was leaving and I didn’t have the nuts to even tell her goodbye or I’m sorry or good luck, I just let her walk away.

I did attend college, I did get married to my high school sweetheart a year later, and did join the Air Force another year later. When all the dust settled and I land at my first base, I find out my sponsor just so happens to be little miss Gabby herself. I had four years to do in Japan, luckily she was leaving in a few months. We partied quite a bit before she left, a habit greatly practiced by ammo troops I soon found out. Yes, if hadn’t guessed, we had the same job, both making the choice we decided way back when in yesteryear. Soon enough she left, leaving me once again. I saw her again, sooner than I thought, as we both were deployed for Desert Storm and were stationed at the same base. It made 8 months fly by, having a friend from home with me. But soon enough we rotated out to our home bases and once again we were separated again. I would see her off and on for the next few years until we ended up in New Mexico together. She had gotten married to a true asshole, I say that because he thought it was okay to beat on her regularly. A disturbing fact that was brought out to my attention one early morning when she showed up in my doorstep with a bloody nose and bleeding lip. That night a few of my friends and I payed him a visit, never before had I tried to kill someone before, but I tried that night. He got the message and slipped away quietly one day soon after, leaving a note announcing he wants a divorce.

Life went on, I divorced my wife, got out the Air Force, and so forth. Meanwhile, Gabby was determined to make a career out of the Air Force, and carried on, gaining rank, ribbons, and accommodations. After two back to back tours in Afghanistan she decided she was done, she retired as a Senior Master Sergeant (E-8) which I had an invitation to the ceremony but had other obligations, so no, I did not attend. I got a phone call from Gabby a few weeks later, announcing she had moved back to Houston and wanted to get together with my family and I for dinner one night soon. My current wife knew very little of Gabby and our lifelong friendship, since I never had a need to talk about my past much, something I’ve been working on lately, and my wife is now realizing that I treat my relationships, friends or family, and with her, very seriously, and I will guard those relationships until the end. She gets it, I think.

Our dinner out was great, everyone including my wife and kids, had a great time talking and visiting. I think my wife looks at me differently now, she never has had anyone explain how my life in the Air Force was except for me, and I tend to not talk much about the details, just keep it short and sweet, the end, story over. That dinner was two years ago, on Halloween night, a night not unlike many before it, we said our goodbyes, made future plans, and we went our separate ways. After getting settled at home, about an hour and a half after leaving the restaurant, I got a phone call from the Constable’s office to inform me that an officer was heading my way to discuss an important matter with me. Soon enough we got the knock on the door, the officer was there to inform me of a fatal automobile accident a few hours ago. Seems I was listed as Gabby’s only next of kin and also the last person she spoke with according to her phone. He explained that a truck traveling the opposite direction hit a deer which resulted in the truck losing control and colliding head on with Gabby’s truck at what was estimated at at least 80 mph, resulting in both being killed at impact. The following day I was asked to formally identify her body and yes it was her. She had a closed casket funeral due to the facial and upper body damage. A very small funeral at the Veteran’s Cemetery here in Houston, most of the people attending were my family. Her flag was presented to me, probably the hardest thing I accepted in life with exception to being 15 and presented my father’s flag at his funeral.

I have bad news for my wife, who recommended I tell this story here today in my spare time, who thought it might make me feel better if I take the time to write about my great friend and our enduring friendship, who is wrong because I don’t feel better, but I did enjoy the trip down memory lane, sort of, but I think I should come clean to y’all, the story y’all read today is only about 1% of everything that ever happened. For now y’all can assume and presume, for now y’all can filter through it all, because for now I’m very done writing about it. In case you are curious, the picture is of Gabby, I took that picture in an undisclosed location in a desert in New Mexico many years ago, alongside a deserted road, she wanted to flash somebody so bad, but after hours just the scorpions, the buzzards, and I were the only ones enjoying the show. It’s a great picture and memory of her, she truly was a graceful and free spirit.

Speaking Of People Watching ……..

Okay boys and girls I have a little adventure to tell you about. Very recently I found myself at the mall with my wife, my birthday present to her was not actually a present, it was a trip to her favorite stores to pick out clothes she has wanted. The longer we are married the harder it is to get gifts for special occasions. Some of y’all might actually feel the same way, plus giving someone a gift blindly is very hit or miss, what they liked yesterday may have very well changed overnight. So, I have a bad habit, I don’t buy gifts, we go places or do something or in this case we made a special trip to the mall. In general, my wife was a little confused, for the first time I wasn’t clear about the budget, sure I had one in mind since going over the budget would have cut into the bill paying. Nevertheless, I told her that she had free reign, she knows the bank account and so forth and I knew she would “shop responsibly” in the end. Plus, as a direct bonus to me, I was there to help pick out new summer attire, that is if she actually buys anything. Usually, whether for work or for street clothes, I always get to go because she wants my “opinion”. Oh well, its just the way it is.

The first place she goes into is Victoria’s Secret, a store in my opinion which has gone seriously down hill because everything is geared toward the “teen” and everything has become tame and lame. I understand business, but I remember the Victoria’s Secret from back in the day when I was dating my ex, and it rivaled Fredrick’s of Hollywood at the time. So, the moral of the story is that if you want “trashy” lingerie you need to shop at Zone D Exotica or buy it online. How can a person buy lingerie, in general, online? Anyhow, we go in because she “needs” (wants) new bras and Victoria’s secret has convinced her over the years that she can only wear their brand bras because of her figure. At least that is the line I’ve heard from them and my wife repeat. Ok, she’s 5’2″, about 115#, where’s a size 2, and sports 36DDDs. I joked with her the other day because she was feeling her age, and in a complimentary fashion I mentioned that I haven’t noticed her age because the boobs are still rockin’ all on their own. She tells me one day they won’t be that way, yea, but that day is not today! In the store she picks out a few sets of varying colors, I know this because she tells me as we go along. I don’t personally care what they look like, however I don’t care for the padded ones since she doesn’t need help squishing the boobs out. I can always convince the employees that I need to be in the fitting room with her because she cant come out to show me and model the lingerie. In 17 years I have been told no only once, and that just turned into selfie after selfie after selfie. Other husbands sit outside, looking very uncomfortable sitting in the pink and white striped boudoir chair, holding her purse, and keeping the small children in line. So, we found one bra and panty set that she was happy with, she tried on 14 sets and some more singles. I’m not complaining, I enjoy the show, in fact I love the show, I was just saying. We wait in line, pay the $72.89, and we exit happily.

She wanted some new jean shorts, tank tops, and a new bikini. I don’t know that all of those things can be purchased in one store, but we were going to give it a shot. She likes Hollister so we started there, not my favorite store, clothes are more for the teen with an assload of daddy’s money. But, she likes their jeans and jean shorts. Being familiar with this store as she comes here allot, I know that when its time to try on everything that is there barely enough room for one person, so I know I will be riding the imitation plastic leather couch, holding her purse and the remainder of the clothes. How do you try on clothes in a 2’x2′ closet anyway? She was put in the room right by the end of the couch, I could touch the door handle I was so close. One thing I hate about this store is the over abuse of perfumes and colognes people wear in a confined space. Makes my eyes water, not good when I wear contacts. Reminds me of the VIP rooms at a strip club, mixed perfumes, mixed sweat in the chairs, spilled alcohol on the floor, it generally has such a musk that it reminds me of a funeral parlor where all of the older ladies feel they must bath in their preferred scent as if to compete with all of the others. I like a lite pleasant smell, one you don’t notice until you are close to the nape of the neck, y’all know what I’m talking about. Then, BOOM, she walks out in a pair of these jean shorts that are very tight, very short, yet still tasteful enough because her vagina isn’t eating them and spilling out the leg holes. Impressive! My wife does not get into the whole “if it zips it fits” craze. She prefers comfortably snug. She tries on a few more, same style, different colors, they all look fine enough to me, but that’s not the answer we are looking for and I know it, so I go for the white pair and the blue jean pair, both show off her tanned legs nicely. Holy fuck! Two pair of shorts were $93.89 and we still weren’t done, off to the Guess store, a personal favorite of mine.

The Guess store was an utter clusterfuck with the summer sale going on, shit everywhere it wasn’t supposed to be, employees talking and texting instead of helping people out. Luckily for us, the bathing suit section hadn’t been raped and ransacked yet, well not real bad in my opinion. She picks out three that she likes and one I was fond of because it was different. She hates all of them after trying them on, looking to old ladyish for her taste. At this point in time she talks me into driving to Galveston, about a 50 minute drive for us, to go suit shopping, she wants to go back to a place she bought hers for our trip to Florida a few years back. Sure, why not, I was done with the mall anyway. We load up her bags in the trunk of the Mustang and head to the Strand, a section of Galveston that has existed since the 1800s, now its mostly shops, bars, and restaurants. While driving through Houston in average Houston traffic, meaning it was steady and thick but moving at about 75mph, my wife slips off the jeans she is wearing, surprise for me, and slips on her new white shorts after cutting the tags off. I didn’t even see her bring them into the car. Ever want to make the women in the car next to you on the passenger side blush? Have your wife changing in the car doing 80 mph passing an SUV with the woman and her boys in the back seat gawking. We arrived safely to Galveston, park, pay, and off we are walking.

She spots a few tanks in the window of the surf shop we were walking by and pulls me inside to go check them out. She was looking for the kind one wears sans bra, its a special kind from what she tells me, got a liner in it so the person wearing it isn’t pointing at everyone looking like she is smuggling raisins. I’m good either way. This is a giant store, there are racks after racks after rack of bathing suits, even the female employees were wearing tiny little bikinis. I like this place already. It was amazing to watch the guys in the store that were there with their wives, girlfriends, friends, or significant others. While watching them watching the tiny bikini clad girls walk around, bending over with straight legs, and stretching to the point that the material of their tops was at the point of failing, which would be catastrophic, boobs everywhere if it happens., I noticed that they also were selling margaritas and daiquiris, bonus. Cheap as well, I don’t prefer frozen margaritas but two giant one’s served in a souvenir style cup with a really crazy straw was only eight bucks. I hand my wife hers and away we go to start the hunt. She picked out one style she liked, only one suit too, and without showing it to me on the hanger she disappears into the changing room. I meandered over, giving her time to wiggle out of her closes and wiggle back into the suit she is trying on. She pulls the curtain back far enough for me to tie the strings on the back for her. She closes the curtain, and we know why, she needs the time to “adjust” everything so there is nothing hanging out that shouldn’t be. The curtain rips open! There she stands, my tanned wife in a white bikini, she is looking slick, she spins in the mirrors outside the changing room, and I guess she decides she is not liking it after all. I’m instructed to stand there and guard her “stuff” while she gets another. Remember I was talking about the guys in the store, well, they aren’t shy about staring, not even a little subtle, but then again, I was pleasantly watching her walk away as well. I see an employee, half her age, helping her out, pointing around and so forth, and then my wife returns. I was told she didn’t care for the first one, the bottoms felt like they were sliding inside her and she feared a very revealing cameltoe. So, she explained she was looking for “cunt huggers” not “cunt eaters” like the one she just tried on. She gets a dirty potty mouth at all the appropriate times, but I saw her point, trust me. She finds one that makes her happy, I never got to see it either, I was told it will be a surprise. While doing a secret check out, hiding it all from me, the same employee who was helping her began talking with my wife again. Apparently she is the manager of the store and thinks my wife has some talents that she would like to employ. Yes, she offered her a job on the weekends. The pay wasn’t bad, $20 an hour plus tips, part time, no benefits, but 80% of clothing in the store as long as she was an employee. Also, she would be able to use my veteran’s discount for an additional 10% off. My wife is actually considering it, she thinks it will be fun, she likes the uniform, and she thinks she would be a help to the older crowd who are a bit shyer in their needs. She has to call her by this Friday afternoon if she wants to give it a shot this weekend.

So now we walk around some more, stopping in at many more island shops, drinking many more margaritas, and finally we got back in the car, not to go home, but to head to the seawall to park so we could go walk the beach for a while. There was a beautiful sunset, we watched the sun slowly but surely descend into the depths of the horizon. Feeling hungry we walked over to a seafood place, I cant remember the name tho for some reason, but we went in, it was very laid back, had classic rock playing relatively load, but it was the coziness of it that made it a cool environment. We ordered, we ate, we talked, talked allot about this summer and what we wanted to do, we are going to San Antonio for the 4th of July weekend, which I already knew, since it is going to be my father’s day present from the kids. To sum it all up, it was nice to go out alone with my wife, something that is very rare anymore, but this is something we both committed to change starting right then. Fine with me, that’s why I married her, to spend time with her, to be able to do things together. There are many more reasons of course, but we wanted a life together to do things together. Also, we discussed the upcoming concerts for the rest of the year, told me to pick three or four so we could go. Has my wife received a headwound? She is volunteering to see rock concerts? Nice. I mentioned our vacation to Florida two years ago, I was doing something with the kids and I get a text from my wife with this picture attached, asking me if I would join her on the beach for a walk. What do y’all think my answer was?

Do You Need A Vaginal Detox Now?

Before I begin, before I share this story, and before I let you read it uninterrupted, I must first thank Rachel G. from right here in Houston Texas for this intriguing read. She is a strong supporter of The Scorpion Army and always provides, not only the “news” but always includes the link and original poster information. Other than the words that are in this paragraph, which are mine and mine alone, the story and picture belong to the original writer, listed below. It begs the question, have the females reading now had this treatment before or would you consider it? Why? Or why not?

Should You Get A V-Steam? Vaginal Detox Claims To Soothe Menstrual Cramps And Boost Women’s Fertility

May 12, 2014 06:25 PMBy: Lizette Borreli@lizcelineb

Original Story

A vaginal detox, a popular new down-under treatment trend, claims to provide health benefits to women by regulating menstrual cycles and boosting fertility, but does it really work?

When it comes to bizarre beauty treatments, Hollywood’s elite are our guinea pigs ready to try it to love it or hate it. And we’re ready to follow the herd shortly after, especially when it comes to improving sex life. The popular down under treatment, vaginal steaming, commonly known as v-steam, is an ancient Korean treatment that provides a steam facial for the vagina to release toxins. Although there is no clinical evidence to support the benefits of v-steams, there is a surplus of anecdotal evidence that supports its healing powers, from soothing menstrual cramps to boosting fertility in women, but should we all flock together for this trend?

V-Steam: How does vaginal steaming work?

Detoxifying your vagina is exactly how it sounds: While wearing a big tent from the waist down, the woman squats down without underwear over a steaming pot of water infused with therapeutic herbs like mugwort, basil, calendula, oregano, marshmallow root, wormwood, and rosemary, but the two predominant herbs in the steam bath include mugwort andwormwood. During the process, which should last for about 20 to 45 minutes, the v-steam supposedly dilates the blood vessels, increasing blood circulation, providing oxygen, and relaxing the pelvic floor muscles.

Mugwort, according to the American Cancer Society, helps treat stomach and intestinal disorders, including cramps, but it has also been used for menopausal and menstrual complaints, along with infertility. The herb stimulates the production of hormones in order to maintain uterine health, and protects the uterus from ulcers and tumors.

Wormwood, similar to mugwort, has been used to aid digestive disorders and immune system strength, while regulating a woman’s menstrual cycle and hormones. The herb is also considered to be antimicrobial and a sedative that can detoxify the uterus.

The combination of these herbs accompanied with some steam, cleanses, tones and nourishes the cervix, uterus, and vaginal tissues. However, using any kind of fresh herbs can provide different medicinal properties for women.

V-Steam: The Evidence

While this may seem like voodoo medicine to some of you, v-steam supporters have rallied up to highlight its health benefits. Celebrity twin sisters Tia and Tamara Mowry are among many in Hollywood who have tried the beauty treatment, known in Korean as chai-yok. The Mowry sisters were intrigued by the idea of reviving their lady parts when they heard it can improve your sex life. “It feels like someone is doing this on your vajay-jay,” they said in an episode on Tia&Tamara, holding their hands up to their faces to blow their hot breath onto them.

Celebrities aren’t the only ones to try the trend. Niki Han Schwartz, owner of Tikkun Holistic Spa in Santa Monica, told the Los Angeles Times vaginal steam baths helped her get pregnant at the age of 45 after only five steams, after Schwartz has been trying to conceive for three years. Schwartz and her husband, orthopedic surgeon Charles Schwartz, are set to introduce vaginal steam baths to Southern California women to share the success of their v-steam story.

However, other doctors, like Dr. Camilo Gonima, a practicing obstetrician and gynecologist in San Antonio, Texas, has doubts about the claims vaginal detoxes, or steam baths, claim to fulfill.  “Herbal steams could have some relaxing effects and some beneficial superficial effects on the skin, just like a sauna or a facial steam would, he told Medical Daily. “Other than any possible involvement stress might have on these issues, I don’t see any basis for any significant effects on fertility or menstrual cycles.”

V-Steam: Should every woman get a vaginal detox?

While there still doesn’t exist scientific evidence to support or deny v-steam claims, can it help when it comes to vaginal cleanliness or health? Since the steam remains external during a v-steam, it does not have any effect on vaginal cleanliness, especially when the vagina is a self-cleaning organ. Gonima believes since the vagina maintains “a healthy environment by maintaining a mix of beneficial bacteria,” v-steams are unnecessary. However, if women have a specific infection and require necessary treatment, he suggests the use of probiotics.

If you choose to do a v-steam or have done it on numerous occasions, Gonima says women can do them as often as they desire, but he does suggest women to proceed with caution. “[I] would emphasize that this should be entirely external, and I’d be cautious about safety to avoid the risk of scalding,” he told Medical Daily.

A detoxing facial for your vagina is mostly harmless, possibly soothing, but is comparable to the effects of aromatherapy, steam baths, and even a relaxing hot shower. Women should be cautious about mishaps with hot water, especially if they intend to do vaginal detoxes within the comfort of their home. One session of v-steam treatments at spas and holistic health centers range from $20 to $75 and typically last anywhere between 30 to 45 minutes. Those who are too shy to visit a spa can purchase a do-it-yourself kit for $150 on EarthDancerWellness.com.

If you’re curious, try v-steaming and see if it provides any physiological benefits for you.

© 2015 IBT Media Inc. All rights reserved.

Medical Daily is for informational purposes and should not be considered medical advice, diagnosis or treatment recommendation. Read more.

Still Living The Life Of A Stripper

In the paragraphs below y’all will be reading information which I finally had time to transcribe from a recorded talk I had with a very good friend of mine and former employer. She discusses the life of a stripper, how to make money, what to do with that money, personal safety, and so much more. I encourage y’all to set some time aside to read the information she has provided as it is considerably lengthy. It also provides insight to her personal accomplishments and how she has become a successful businesswoman. There are very different professions for all of the people who want to work, hopefully this will show y’all a different view of the world a stripper lives in. This could very easily be done as three separate posts but I’m an all you can eat buffet kind of guy who likes to get my fill all in one sitting. So, with that being said, here we go.

To begin with let me say that I started stripping at the age seventeen with a fake identification and a fast talking mouth. With that resting comfortably in the back of your head I also opened my own full nude strip club at the age of 24 in Houston and have since opened another location in Dallas. There are a great deal of misconceptions out there about strippers and that is something you will have to deal with if you enter the profession. I will say this, I truly enjoy what I do and I have never felt exploited because I’m a stripper. In fact I have always felt it was far more personally empowering than any other profession. But stripping is not for everyone. It requires a certain temperament. Don’t go and become a stripper because you feel you “have” to. If you hate what you do it will show and you will make very little money as a stripper. The minute you start dancing the clock is ticking. There are a limited number of years in which to make as much money as you can. Most dancers retire around 27. If you’re starting when you’re 18 that gives you nine years in which to make as much money as you can and then get out. Chances are you will never again be able to make as much per day as you do while stripping. Make the most of of the time.

There are two kinds of strippers, subsistence and capital strippers. A subsistence stripper just works enough to get by. Maybe a few days a week, saves little and is always in a financial crisis. I see these girls panicking to get enough dances to pay rent the next day but by the next week they are back to partying, doing drugs, buying expensive clothes and generally pissing away every dime they earn. Their plans for the future are vague at best and even though they claim to realize they can’t dance forever they seldom save and invest their money or invest in an education. These girls get out of the business no better then they started and spend the rest of their lives getting their ass pinched in menial, low paying jobs. A capital stripper dances as an investment. In my opinion this is the only reason to strip. Stripping is just too hard a way to earn a living to do it for just enough to “get by”. You can get by on a McDonalds salary. If you are going to have guys staring at your naked ass all evening you should at least be securing a decent future for yourself, not just tomorrow’s groceries and rent. There are many excuses for not saving your money but in my experience few of them are valid. Single mother, health problems whatever, you can still afford to save. If you work hard you can make a great deal of money stripping.

When you see that money in your hand it just doesn’t seem real, and when you keep seeing it night after night it seems like the supply will be endless. It’s really not, you need to put away the largest portion you can. Not just 10% or so but 40% or 60%. It is possible to do that and still live a very comfortable life. Strippers tend to live beyond their means and end up with nothing but memories of that nice sports car or that fancy apartment. If you can just keep it under control for a few years you can have that stuff for the rest of your life, long after you’re done stripping. Live within your means; base your spending around not what you make stripping but what you would make at a good entry-level job. Get a good, reliable car but you don’t need that giant SUV or fast sports car. Make sure your lease or car loan doesn’t rely on a strippers level of income to pay it. Same goes for the rent or mortgage. It’s very easy to fall on heels and break an ankle or tear up your knee, it happens all the time. You could be out of work for weeks or even months. You don’t want to be buried under a mountain of bills. I suggest buying at least basic health insurance but if you don’t you will need at least enough savings to pay for emergencies.

So what to do with the money you save? Well, set enough aside to pay for all of your expenses like food, housing, tuition, utilities, car, whatever for 4 months. This is your emergency fund, put it in your saving account and don’t spend it. The rest you should invest. I have a few well chosen mutual funds that I have been very happy with. As a stripper you’re looking to invest for the long term, at least 5 years and probably 10. Mutual funds are low maintenance and are well suited for this purpose. I strongly advise against investing in individual stocks. Despite all tales of buying low and selling high at the end of the year very few people are able to make money off buying and selling individual stocks. Stick with mutual funds, they are safer and more reliable (at least for the novice investor).

The best possible investment you can make is an education. With a nice big nest egg and a good degree you can do just about anything you want when you retire from stripping. Without an education or any job skills that money will eventually be gone. With an education you can make the most of your savings, use it as capital for your own business or invest it for a steady source of income. Too many strippers talk about how they’re planning on going back to school or they’re just taking a semester off. This is bullshit, if you want an education you need to go to school and work hard. If you’re not going to school then you’re pissing away your own future.

At most clubs you will walk around and ask the customers if they’d like a private dance (or lap dance depending on the club). Some clubs just have stage dancing. Often there is a private area that you can go for a dance. Be careful, though, the dim lights and the privacy tend to make the guys a little frisky. Not in a bad or scary way just in a way that may need to be corrected. The most important thing to do when you’re dancing is to smile and make eye contact. Nothing turns a guy off faster then a stripper strolling bored around the stage while staring vacantly off into space. Try to make each guy you’re dancing for think he’s the only guy you’re dancing for. This is how the pros make the big bucks. At many clubs a significant part of your nightly earnings comes from private dances. Most of the time the customer will pay for you to sit and talk with them as well. Guys vary a lot but it’s always important to be attentive. Nobody likes to feel like they’re being ignored. Most guys are pretty nice and easy to talk to. Provided you’re a good listener and act interested, it’s no problem. Then you get the guys who aren’t trying to be obnoxious, they just don’t have the best social skills. They will sit and alternate between nagging you to go out with them and lying about how much money they have, how many places they’ve traveled, how important they are in their company, etc. Simpering and looks of wide-eyed wonder come in handy at this point. Some guys are an absolute pleasure to sit with, they buy plenty of dances, they visit on a regular basis, and best of all they’re lots of fun to talk too. It’s guys like this who really make it all worth while.

When dancing it’s important to stay motivated, at most clubs you are an independent contractor. You won’t get fired if you don’t work hard and no one will say anything if you decide to hang out at the bar and talk all night talking to the bartender. You need to treat being a stripper like a job and not a social experience. Decide on what time and how long you will have dinner for, the rest of the time work the floor as hard as you can. Make sure you always get at least 8 hours of sleep so you’re not tired. You’ll look and feel better. Set a clear goal, try to get 4 dances and hour, as you get better set higher goals for yourself. Never assume a passive approach and wait for them to call you over, stay moving and keep working. If it’s hard and you just can’t get motivated make a game of it, make bets with other girls on who can get the most dances. Promise yourself ice cream if you reach a certain goal, whatever you have to do to stay motivated and keep earning that money.

Learning how to properly break the ice and get invited to sit with a customer takes time. Most girls tend to just walk around to every guy in the room and ask “Wanna dance?” and then when he says no walk off. This is the exact wrong approach. Every guy in that room has enough money for at least one dance and you just have to find the right words to get them to buy one or more. “Wanna dance?” can work in a very crowded room or if a guy is already interested but it will do absolutely nothing to convince a guy who was uninterested to change his mind. It’s too easy to say no to and that is usually what happens. To start with, choose your targets, who is looking at you the most when you are on stage or dancing for other customers? Talk to the bartender (always be friends and take to the bartender) and the floor hosts about who has an open tab or has been spending a lot of money. If a bartender or floor hosts gives you a good lead and you make money ALWAYS tip them at the end of the night and that way next time they will go to you first when they see a big spender. When you approach your prospective customer try and say anything but “Wanna dance?”: would you like some company?, would you like if I joined you? If the room is slow and he seems reluctant put a very slight push on. If he says he’s not interested ask if he would mind if you just sat down and rested your feet for a minute- you’re “not used to these heels”. Few men are going to say no to that, and the “not used to these heels” implies that you’re a new dancer and invites conversation. If 10 minutes go by and he still doesn’t buy a dance don’t ask- just say “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get back to work- it’s been nice talking to you okay?” This implies that you didn’t consider sitting with him work, a slight bit of flattery that will get you a dance later. Think of this approach as “seeding” in that you may not get the dance then, but chances are you will later. After a half-hour of “wanna dance” from the other girls he’s going to wish for your company again and probably be willing to pay for it. Or even the next time he comes in your’s will be the familiar face. With this approach it’s important you not spend too long with them, always keep them hungry. Unless they’re paying don’t sit with them longer then 10 to 15 minutes and only that long if the room is very slow. If they’re used to getting it for free it’s going to be hard to get them to pay for it. You’re friendly and available and they just have to be willing to pay for it.

Never ever, sit on your own or hang out at the bar talking to other strippers. At any given time you should be either sitting with a customer, moving to another customer or on stage getting naked. If you’re just standing around they will assume you’re not busy and it will be very hard to get a customer to pay for your time because “you’re not doing anything anyway”. Look busy, if they think other men want you then they will want you. It’s important you have respect for the money they give you, so much money changes hands that girls often forget what it represents. Let’s say your customer earns $40,000 a year after taxes- probably about average income for a stripclub patron in Houston. That works out to around $20 an hour. If a customer sits with you and you make $100, that’s 5 hours of his time. If a handyman came to your house and fixed thing for 5 hours you’d say “thank you” right? Always thank the customer and make sure he knows you mean it. Even if $100 doesn’t seem like a lot of money to you to the average customer it is.

One last thing, don’t screw with guys’ heads. It’s not cool, you can make money without doing it. I see lots of girls who string guys along implying they’ll go out with them if they just visit a few more times or laying on sob stories about their sick children or parents. Don’t do it, there is never any reason for you to lie as a stripper. After a few repetitions it gets very fake and you just come off as a greedy gold digging bitch. If you want customers to treat you with respect you should treat them with respect. If they are disrespectful just walk away, there is no reason for you to sink to their level. There are more then enough good men who will to pay you to sit, talk and laugh with them and when you dance they will treat you like a goddess. As customers they deserve your courtesy and if they don’t respect you in return they don’t deserve to have you spend time with them. Safety is a critical issue for strippers. Many menaked not understand that what we sell is a fantasy or feel that our employment makes us fair game for unwanted attentions. The six dumbest words that can leave a woman’s mouth are “I can take care of myself”. No you can’t, and get any notion that you’re some kind of tough girl out of your head. Men are bigger, stronger and meaner. They’ve been beating and raping women for thousands of years now and have pretty much got it down pat. Your little kick boxing lessons at the health club will not help you. If a grown man hits you full force you will be knocked unconscious and very likely break the bones in your face. Do not ever make safety decisions based on your opinion of your ability to defend yourself.

I personally think that carrying weapons or taking martial art, self-defense classes etc. are a bad idea for most women. The most effective way to survive is to be scared; anything that makes you brave makes you more likely to walk into a dangerous situation. If you have a gun in your purse you might be more likely to take that shortcut home, or take a ride with a man you don’t know very well or any number of risky things. If you’re scared you’re careful, if you’re careful you don’t get into trouble. If you are a feature stripper, have a very public presence (website or modeling), or have had problems with a stalker then a gun may be something you want to consider purchasing. You need to be trained in it’s use and practice with it at a firing range at least once every few months. Don’t bother carrying one unless you comfortable with the idea of killing someone. That’s what guns are for, you’re not going to be shooting knives out of anyone’s hands, you’re going to be trying to make a hole in the center of their torso. If you have small hands like me you can have a gunsmith machine a trigger guard that will comfortable fit your finger but too small for the finger of a grown man. But I would like to emphasize, most women are far better off not carrying a gun. Only if you are in a position of constantly being exposed to unavoidable danger is it an option.

One never wishes to blame the victim but every single girl I know without exception who has ever gotten into trouble was doing something most women would consider risky or just plain stupid. Don’t take chances- the stakes are too high. As a stripper, leaving the club after work is the time when you are most vulnerable. I have only gotten scared twice at work. On both occasions it was when an overly enthusiastic customer decided to wait for me outside the club after closing. On both occasions the men were just confused about the nature of what a stripper does and were quickly dealt with by security. This being said, transportation is a critical safety issue that you really have to think about. Going to work is not a problem because customers can’t really see where you are coming from. Leaving is when you have to be most vigilant. Public transportation is out of the question, it’s too easy to be followed and is rarely safe at the hours you’ll be riding. I’d suggest sharing a cab with one of the other girls. If you decide to drive, make very sure that your car is reliable, last thing you need is a break down on an empty road at 3AM. A cell phone is a good thing to have. Make sure when you register you car you do it to another address (friend, parent, etc.). That way if some creep takes down your license plate number he can’t find out your home address. For obvious reasons never give any personal info to anyone who knows you as a stripper, including other strippers. There are strippers and bouncers who will give the information to customers for money or as a favor. There is no reason anyone needs to know anything but your stage name. Don’t tell them where you live or what school you go to no matter how trust worthy they seem. Once that information is out it’s very difficult to put back in the box.

We are not all success stories. I had my eye on the prize the first time someone slipped money in my garter. I learned how to capitalize on a man’s willingness to part with his hard earned money to see me naked. Done properly, a stripper can sock away grand amounts of cash just by dancing naked, and it can end as a very fruitful career choice. Not every girl is a naturally born stripper, you have to be willing to work your ass off, and then the world holds endless possibilities for you.

Is The Price Of “Sex” Getting Cheaper?

I was strangely surprised to see the following message as inline text from a long time information donator to T.S.O.T.S.B. from a long time personal friend of mine. Normally she sends me links, pictures, and/or ideas to pick and choose from once or twice a month. But this time, this time she sent “words” from some place and did not reference a source of any sorts. Meaning, therefore I didn’t have an opportunity to see where all this came from. In the end, she used it to ask me a question about the strip club industry, she wanted to know if the “economy” determines how much money I make as a bartender or how much money a stripper is paid.

I wish I had a simple answer. Just as well, she was only trying to help me to tie into my “Sex sells everything” experiment I have been doing here and she just wanted to “show” that sex sells sex sometimes. As a bartender in a full nude strip club I tend to see many things the “average” person isn’t even aware is going on in the first place. To begin with, I see the flow of money, the exchanges that happen casually to “purchase” that special experience. A trend I have seen and heard is that there has became a new meaning to the arts of negotiation because, let’s all face the facts, people want more bang for their buck while paying as little as possible, so hard core economics comes into play. Strippers have a bottom line, of course, but they have the skills to never have to accept bottom dollar for anything they have to offer, they will not sell themselves short for any reason since they are there to separate customers from as much of their money as possible.

“They keep talking about recovery, but for many folks, work doesn’t pay what it used to. According to a recent report, Manhattan and Los Angeles counties lead America in falling wages. In the counties which contain Dallas, Phoenix, and Chicago, workers are also seeing their paycheck shrink. We can add sex workers to the list of people dealing with falling income.

Th Economist examined over 190,000 profiles of female sex workers on websites that feature customer reviews. Based on that data, which covered 84 cities and 12 countries (with the majority of workers in the United States), an interesting trend was revealed: the price of an hour with a female sex worker has been plunging. The average cost nationwide in 2014 is $260, down from $340 back in 2006.

What’s going on? What a sex worker charges depends on many things, including what types of services are involved, the location, and the physical attributes of the worker. Sex workers who conform to Western standards of beauty can charge more. Blondes get a premium, as do those with slim (but not too skinny) bodies and ample breasts. Getting fake boobs can really pay off in sex work: “For those not naturally well endowed, breast implants may make economic sense: going from flat-chested to a D-cup increases hourly rates by approximately $40, meaning that at a typical price of $3,700, surgery could pay for itself after around 90 hours.”

Other ways sex workers can charge more is to provide niche services like having sex with two men at once, or providing S&M role-playing. Big-city sex workers in places like New York, Houston, Los Angeles, and London can charge more, too.

According to the Economist, the reason behind the drop in price is partly the 2007-’08 financial crisis. Other factors, like the migration of poorer sex workers into richer areas can also cause a drop in prices. This trend has been happening in Europe since the European Union expanded to include poorer eastern European countries, which has sent workers across borders. A 2013 article in Time magazine noted that Germany had become the “Cut-Rate Prostitution Capital of the World,” with thousands of brothels and “hundreds of thousands of prostitutes,” many from places like Romania and Bulgaria, dealing with intense competition and pushed-down prices. (Prostitution became legal in Germany in 2002.) In Berlin, oral sex from an Eastern European sex worker can reportedly be had for as little as $13.

The Internet is to blame, too, as more people are selling sex online. Because it’s easier and more discreet to sell sex online, women who in the past may have avoided such work are signing up. “More attractive and better-educated women, whose marital and job prospects are therefore better, are more likely to consider sex work easily if it is arranged online,” notes the report. Technology increases the efficiency and speed of matching client to sex worker: there are even apps which allow customers to filter sex workers according to specifications like breast size, age or height. A new German app even promises that you can order a sex worker the way you would order an Uber car, using GPS to connect client to worker.

But changing attitudes toward sex work in our society are also part of this trend. The stricter a society is about casual and adulterous sex, the more sex work will be in demand. The acceptance of premarital sex and divorce mean that men are less likely to be driven to sex workers because they can’t get their sexual needs met anywhere else.

It’s a bummer to be a sex worker when prices are falling. But interestingly, it looks like incomes may not have fallen as steeply as the decline in prices would suggest, because sex workers have been able to cut expenses.”

Fences Make Me A Great Neighbor

Not the way you remember hearing the old saying? It’s my twist because it makes more sense to me, plus I could really give a shit if I have good neighbors or not. Mine know I don’t want them in or around my yard. For the newbies reading here today, my house sits on 11.93 acres of land somewhere way outside the city of Houston. Now, we live in what’s called an “acreage neighborhood” where all the homes sit on a few acres. Just so happens that when I bought my “lot” that I bought the two lots available to the left and the one lot available to the right. Why? Because I wanted my neighbors to have to put some work into it when they would choose to be nosey. After almost 10 years I would say the experimental theory has been a success because I barely know my neighbors, just the damn way I like it. Within the almost 12 acres there is a roughly 4 acre pond which was dug so I could build up where my house would be built, as well as level out what would become my yard. Also, there is 3ish acres of a densely wooded area which butts up to a feeder creek off of the San Jacinto river. Everything else is mowed as my yard and has a wooden fence around it.

Well, after the storm last night I found a tree had fallen on a section of my wooden fence way in the backyard. This explained why the breaker for the electric circuit had been tripped. Yes, it’s a partially electrified fence. Why? To keep the criiters, varmints, and the neighbors dogs from digging under the fence and getting into my yard. Don’t worry, out in this area its only putting out about 2000 volts. But, the tree seems to have damaged the line by completing the circuit, hence tripping the breaker. At least the mystery is solved, I figured I would find a dead animal of sorts out in the back, not a tree on the fence. Since I located this so late in the afternoon all I really felt like doing was exactly what I did, take a picture of it, well, actually about a dozen. Why? I needed them to show to the insurance company to show the damage. The adjustor will be out Monday morning to make a report so I can’t touch it until afterwards. If it were endangering life or property then I can, but its just a fence so I was told to wait. Waiting is not something I am good at, especially when there is so much work to do. Meanwhile, the neighbor on that side figured out I was back there and decided he wanted to have a 30 minute chat about absolutely nothing, in fact I don’t even remember as I sit here writing this.

When I tell my wife what had happened and what went on with the insurance she went off on one of her tangents and wants me to look into having the tree removed by someone and the fence repaired by someone. She didn’t ask when I would be taking care of it, she wanted to know when someone else was going to do it. There will be nobody else doing any of it because I want to do it. Plus, I have the kids to help me out, so it will be fine. On top of that, I finally got my favorite tool on the planet running again after it died on me back in March, I thought it was really dead, but it runs like a screaming chainsaw banshee now. So I’m good to go. Y’all were aware that every man has his favorite tool? My dad’s is a 50 year old flathead screwdriver, my son’s is an old roofing hammer, mine is, well, mine is the fine machine pictured below, its probably the most useful and versatile tool I have ever owned. Next week I put it to the test, next week I will see if bringing it back to life was worth it, next week the chips will fly. Fuck calling a tree removal company, fuck someone else fixing my fence, I will do it my way. My wife knows this already, she was just trying to be cute and see if she could ruffle a few feathers. The adventure never ends in our marriage, but that is life as well, shit happens, we could cry about it or take care of it. Some of us know the right answer, the others call a tree removal company.

Thank You Karma, I’ve Been Patient

So, I was working at the club last night, bored to the point I was actually on the verge of falling asleep standing up. Then, a ringtone begins to play on my phone, one I have not heard in many years, “The Bitch Is Back”, when I look at the screen to make sure it is who I think it is, I see ” The Cunt” is calling. Before I get into this wonderful conversation, let me remind y’all that in just over 15 years, I have spoken with my ex on the phone 4 times, and in person twice. Needless to say, we are on less than talking terms, much less being cordial terms with one another. But she called, which had to be hard for her personally, and now I am wasting my time “writing” about her cuntness while sitting here in my shop with better things to do, like scraping the duck shit off of my 50 year old iron bench so I can refinish it later. Oh Yea, the phone call.

When I first saw who it was I did smile a bit, but only because I was hoping she was calling me to say “I’m sorry” and “you are right”. It makes me smile because in 12 years of marriage and all the years since, I have never heard those words. Oh well, I better see what she wants so I don’t have to listen to a lengthy voicemail. It started off polite enough, almost like she was reading a prewritten script or something. I know I am the last person on Earth she wanted to be calling. Like normal, she talked and I listened, this is just the way it works, she wants something I have, and I just listen. This time it was different, this time there were a couple of ” pleases” there and a bit of gratitude in her voice. I had to pull my phone back twice to make sure who was calling me. Very strange indeed. So, what does she want? Well, that’s complicated. So you understand better, I need to take y’all back to when we were getting divorced because it would appear she made a few boo boos filing her taxes and now she has an appointment to discuss the discrepancies.

Anyway, part of the terms of our divorce were for her to receive proceeds from the sale, rental, or lease from the house we once called home. It always struck a nerve with me because this house was only in my name. But whatever, community property is what it is. The market to sell was very soft, so, with the aid of a realitor, which I paid for 100%, we put it on the market to rent. Now, I remind y’all, by this time I was out if the Air Force, living in Houston, and this house is in Alamogordo New Mexico. Within a month of our divorce a military couple were signing a rental agreement. Since I was still paying for the house, each month there was about $500 remaining, which I was oblidged to split with my now ex-wife. I made sure I wrote a paper check each month for ease of keeping the records straight. After around 3 years of the same couple renting the house, I received an offer to purchase it, cash. Seems the housing market was on the rise there. I purchased the house for $57,000.00, put another $10k into it, and at the point when they made the offer, I still owed the bank roughly $18k. What was their offer for this 2900 sq ft, 4 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath house? $98,699.00 plus closing costs with immediate move in. Without thinking, I agreed to the sale. But the cunt would not see half because I protested the decree and proved she never spent a penny on the house, the judge awarded her $20,021.09 payable over the next 16 months.

OK, so here is the problem, never did she report any of the proceeds from the rent or the final sale as income or a source of revenue when she filed her taxes. Oops. So, as it stands, she is claiming ignorance, and she has been given 30 days to prove she shouldn’t owe over $56k in taxes, penalties, and fines. She has been trying, unsuccessfully obviously, to do this on her own, leaving only a few more days before the 5th of August rolls around. Like I told her, I am not giving up any information without written proof she needs my information. When I asked what I get in return for graciously taking time out of my life to copy all the shit she needs, she offered to take me out for steak. I told her, in that case, when she shows up at my front gate to pick up her package, because I refused to do everything for her, for her to leave enough time for dinner. After a long, very dramatic pause, with a sigh, she agreed to meet with me on Saturday.

So, why am I helping the cunt? Its easy, I don’t want her mess getting on me, because trust me, she would find a way to suck me down that rabbit hole. Meanwhile, in exchange for the documents she has requested, my lawyer has drawn up documents that she must sign which release me from any obligations, financially or otherwise, and it includes a detailed inventory of all the documents so if push comes to shove, I can show I provided up, above, and beyond everything I could. No sign, no copies. Luckily for me, I keep the records of my past life neatly tucked away in a small three drawer filing cabinet. Lucky for her I packratted all of this away or she would be fucked and she probably doesn’t like prison orange anyway.

You want funny? As she reads along with you here today she is realizing that I truly don’t give a fuck about her situation and that this life lesson is one that will soon be forgotten by her because that is just the way she is. Yes, she reads my blog, only because my daughter sees to it on occasion for some reason. In the end, my dearest cunt, I can only thank you because you gave me something to do with my time and gave me something special to write about today. See you Saturday. Remember not to be sad in your time of need because, like always I am prepared, something you never took the time to learn.

Have You Checked Out These Stories?

Did y’all know that Scorpion Sting is a bartender in a full nude strip club right here in Houston Texas? There is a considerable amount of posts used for these stories that can only be found exclusively here in The Sting Of The Scorpion. How do you find them? Multiple ways, in fact it is super simple. First, y’all can click the category listing on the right hand side of this blog that reads “Scorpion Sting’s Bartender Stories“, or second, y’all can use the search feature located at the top right of this blog. Every single story is a real life reflection of a real person or real life facts about this really interesting industry. If you are interested then you should check it all out. Plus, there is an informational page, found at the top of this blog, which gives even more details.

Living A Secret Life

Every so often people I actually know in person will drop me an email just to update me on the happenings in their life. Normally I wouldn’t find the need to say anything here but I got one from a friend, my age, who I have known for some 20 odd years now. He told me he had a good story that would fit right in if posted in the Magic Weekend. I ended up calling Ron because his story was a bit disturbing and I needed to know more. So, since the email was brief, I am going to toss in a little background information first. Ron, 9 years ago walked away from a marriage that ceased to exist. He had known for a few months that his wife was cheating on him and one day he had enough, game over. They didn’t have any children so his choice, he says, was simple. One morning he woke up to go to work, leaving the signed divorce papers on the kitchen table, and when he left he never returned. After around 6 months he was notified by mail that his divorce was final. He didn’t seem real heartbroken about the news either. A few months went by and he dropped by the house with his girlfriend, Amy. She has to be 10 years or more younger than him but that didn’t seem to bother either of them at all.

Skip ahead a few years to the present day and they are still together. Neither wanted to ever get officially married so they never did. Since we keep tabs on one another I was glad he was back in the states again that way maybe we can get together. However, part of his email was to explain that he was moving from Houston and returning to Japan to take a permanent position there with his company. I am sure there is more than just reason he has made this choice, although, as you will read, it would seem he thinks his luck has run out with women. His relationship with Amy is really messed up now, she is not exactly being honest with Ron when he made some inquiries into what she has been up to while he was gone. He’s done with the lies now and decided to move on.

It seems when Ron in Japan for about 3 weeks three to four times a year, Amy is quite the party girl. Ron says he never had a clue and all she ever did when he was home most of the year was go to work and then be home with him. Enter the magic of Facebook networking amongst friends and people he barely new. Amy celebrated her 35th birthday while Ron was out of town, he knew she was going out with friends, but didn’t actually know any of them. Ron was forwarded the picture shown here from a friend of a friend of a friend when he saw that it was Amy. Ron went on to find out that Amy was a part of a paid escort party. Upon a little note digging, Ron found out she had been working as an escort for over 2 years. Needless to say, when he asks her about it she denies everything and blames it on mistaken identity. But he knew, he knew because he was there when she got the tattoo on her shoulder that he clearly sees in the picture. He never showed her the picture, he wanted to catch her in her own lie. After things settled down he decided to call the escort service and request Amy. He waited at the hotel and then when he answered the door he knew their relationship had just ended. No explanation needed, its over.

I am reminded by Ron’s story that just because we think we know what our significant other is up do all day and all night that we are probably only about 80% right about 80% of the time. I am not saying we shouldn’t trust one another, I am just saying to trust what you think first, then everyone else. We may not all be victims of a cheating spouse, but we all know that one doesn’t cheat only with another person. I will leave it there.

Imagine The World Without Fucktards

I imagine the world without fucktards every once in a while, then I am reminded somehow that the rest of the world needs fucktards, because every person on the planet wants to know what runs through a fucktards mind from time to time. Personally, I don’t want to spend any time whatsoever in the deep reaches of the interworking of the brain of any particular fucktards. I have noticed that there has become an increased number of fucktards in my life lately. Why? Maybe it is the places I have been visiting, and that isn’t just limited to the federal, state, and local government offices I have had to visit for reasons that I have been mentioning in the past. I will get into that in more detail as I go along. I have a trio for y’all today since I found a way to kill three birds with one stone, rather, as it would be, I ended up pissing in the bowls of a few fucktards bowl of Wheaties this morning for no more reason than what had to be said or done had to be said and done. So, let’s begin.

First stone was at the VA Medical Center in Hoiston to pick up my insulin that has been claimed to be undeliverable to the same address that ALL my other medications were mailed to and received. It was said to be attempted to deliver twice and returned twice for wrong address. Meaning, some fucktard dropped the ball twice and to cover his/her ass put in the false information. How do I know? When I asked what the tracking numbers assigned to the shipment by the VA and by the post office there were none to be found. Caught you bitches in two lies which upsets a fucktards. Then, for the cherry on top, they give me a 30 day supply not my ordered 90 day supply which means I get to play this fucked up game once again. Then, since I have yet to get my new glucose meter I went to the diabetic education office to speak with the head cheese to finally get it. Oops, she retired last month but absolutely nobody on the planet knows this except her. Did I get my meter? No, because the office will remain closed indefinitely until she is replaced. Really frustrated, I now leave the medical center before I really end up choking some random fucker for no other reason than it would feel real good to me at this point.

Since I was downtown I went to go pick up some hot rod remote control truck parts I bought from a dealer on line. When I get there to pick up my $327.67 order I was informed by this young smart mouth fucktards that since I did not pick up my order within the prescribed 24 period that my items were restocked and sold. As I explained to this dumbass, I ordered my items online Wednesday @ 8:13 pm for in store pickup at the very store I was standing in this morning. But wait, there a catch, they are only open Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Even though I repeatedly contested based on this information he was not going to refund my money unless I paid the $75.00 restocking fee first. Really. I will admit, I let him piss me off, I raised my voice quite a bit and was throwing the word (in many variations) fun k like today WS the last day I could ever use it. It got the attention of the store owner, someone I have known for some 20 plus years who came over to inform me that the kid was new and my order was safe and sound. He asked if I still wanted it and I of course did so he went to retrieve it for me. To “smooth things over” I think, he gave me a $100.00 gift voucher to be used with in the next year in store only. We spoke for a bit more and then I grabbed my order and left. It left me thinking, what would the fucktards kid have done if the owner wasn’t there? He would have laid on the floor lifeless because he forced me to choke the dieing breath out of him for pissing me off beyond personal control. Would that be a good defense, hypothetically, when I was charged with the murder of a fucktards? I would be doing the would a favor, right?

Thirdly I ddropped into see the owner of the strip club I was formally employed with part time because she owed me $600.00 for some work I did for her personally at her house last month as a paid favor. I won’t get into what I was doing for her but it put me out around $250.00 in supplies that I paid for in advance. She said she would pay me later because when I went to settle she attempted to give me a check for something she agreed to pay cash for. I am easy so I accepted waiting. I don’t get to this side of town any more so I figured I would stop by the office to get paid. You’ll never guess, she didn’t have the cash on her even though I contacted her yesterday afternoon to let her know I was coming by to collect. Well, I guess it was the wrong answer. I hung out for 15 minutes while she ran to the bank. She brought be back $500.00 dollars, her ATM cash limit to give to me and I took a $100.00 check so I wouldn’t be forced to come back. Yeah me! I am such a nice guy. I then left, heading home. Pissed off with my morning I totally forget to go to the bank and I realize this as I look on the table in front of me and see her check.

In the end I did kill three birds with one stone. Those three birds also got a big fat bird from me to salute their pure and utter fucktardedness. They fight a good fight and stay true to their cause and for that I always feel inclined to give them my favorite one finger salute. Well, the VA got a single finger fuck you salute from each hand this morning because really, really deserved it.