last night i did a stripper-gram or strip-o-gram or whatEVER you want to call it. (i can't decide which it is, and the agency i work for goes back and forth using both all the time, so they're of no help.)
anyway i went to a bar way out in beaverton where some bar employees wanted to surprise their boss at his birthday party. i got there and they couldn't locate the boss so they kept stalling me. i sat at the bar and a customer, who was in on the secret, offered to buy me a cocktail. i said i'd have a margarita. i felt weird specifying that i don't drink well liquor, so the bartender made it with don pancho or whatever the world's cheapest tequila is. i had one polite sip and immediately had a headache. i'm just too delicate a flower for cheap booze.
finally they found the boss. i danced to rihanna's "S&M," tied the guy up, rode him like a pony, etc. and then left with the easiest couple hundred bux i've ever made, probably.
i realized i was right down the street from my aunt's house, where my brother is staying this week while he's in town from san diego. i knew they'd all be up playing video games and whatnot, they never go to bed over there till at least 2am, and i wanted to stop by but i really couldn't think of any reason to say as to why i just happened in the neighborhood. so i just drove back into town, and on my way home a friend called and wanted to meet for a drink. i felt really happy about that, like i should be out drinking with my peers on a friday night, you know? so i did that. then went to bed. the end.
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