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Saturday many of the original Degenerates piled into the SS
Degenerate Press and headed out for a bachelor party cruise. After a
quick bite we started at the bottom of what is considered attractive
by the masses of the current U.S. culture - Clermont Lounge. We
arrived early to beat the Saturday night disco crowd and catch the
Clermont regulars in inaction. The only thing missing was cold PBR -
they were either out or have stopped serving the Poor Boy's
Refreshment. Eventually Blondie slid on stage for her act then came
down for our bachelor's table dance, pummeling him senseless with her
breasts. His head shook with the blows, "Oh, I LOVE the uppercut."
said Blondie as she slammed another one home.
The disco crowd started trickling in, folks that wouldn't even look
at the dancers and probably wouldn't set foot in the joint any other
night of the week, so we boarded the ship and set sail to Pink Pony.
The line outside the door was a bad omen. Inside the joint was
standing room only well-groomed guys dropping absurd amounts of money
on the skin show. (I was waiting to get a beer from the girl behind
the cooler full of beer and ice at the door when the guy in front of
me whipped out his gold American Express. The beer girl wasn't the
real bartender and couldn't take plastic. The incoherently drunk
moron says "But I just spent eight hundred dollars on that girl over
there. I've been coming here for a long time.... and... uh...." He
had to chase his buddies down for the $4 cash for the beer.)
The girls fit in with the general U.S. accepted standards for
"beautiful" with enough variety to still be worth watching, but the
place was sardine-can conditions so eventually we squeezed out of
there and on to the next stop.
The Palomino used to be our favorite strip club when it was Tops N
Tails years ago. It had the perfect mix of low-end sleaze with some
high-end talent to satisfy all your sordid hungers. Now the joint is
done out like a sports bar, a massive wide-screen TV behind the stage
and banners hanging from every rafter. And there's the archetypal
ultra-irritating strip club DJ. Yet again I must ask, if there's any
club managers out there why don't you GET A WOMAN TO DO THE JOB?
Geez, those guys are fucking annoying.
But the girls at The Palomino are super friendly and diverse enough
for just about any taste and some of them can dance like you cannot
They got our bachelor boy on stage, pulled his shirt off then ripped
the waistband off his underwear right out of the top of his pants and
tied it around his head. Then the on-stage orgy began in earnest.
They piled onto him and did the most amazing and obscene things
possible while still keeping all genitals out of sight. A full 15
minutes of hilarious and highly hormonal hedonism had everyone in
hysterics. The bachelor himself did an impressive pole trick,
spinning around the brass column on stage, followed by some booty
shaking that got him tips from the girls.
Afterward we sat and chatted with a few dancers and got the
inevitable "So where are you guys partying afterward?" just before
closing time. Some of the newbies fell for the routine hook, line and
sinker and had to be dragged away.
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