small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: family value role model blues

Tuesday, October 3

family value role model blues

You know back-in-the-day I used to hang in strip clubs every night of the week. I thought those places were the shit. You had a joint with no windows, loud thumping music, plus you had these big knuckle dragging muthafuckers at the door keeping you safe. These places were always decked out with comfy couches, velvet paintings and pretty lights.

And get this! The place was full of nekked chicks and booze. I loved these fucking places cause what more could a single man ask for? Ok, ok, some of em even served food. Who knew?

But I had a bad experience in a strip club some years ago and haven’t been in one since. I had gone to a joint out of town that some old friends from the Family managed. I walked in and sat down and one of the guys’s brought me a drink.

I knew these cats from my bouncing days at the old Lone Star and they were pretty cool guys as long as you kept em at a distance. If they got too close the next thing you knew you were sitting in the drivers seat of a car with the motor running while they were making a withdrawal from the local bank if you know what the fuck I be saying and shit.

So we were sitting at a choice table when this unbelievable hard-body redhead I recognized hits the stage. She was shaking it harder then a retard having an epileptic fit in the middle of Wal-Mart till suddenly she gets a good look at me.

Get this, she starts with the screaming and throws her hands over her tits and runs off the stage. The family guys start freaking on me, “what the hell did you do”?

Yeah, for a few seconds all I saw was dark suits and bulges. The dancer came running back out with her robe on and the manager wanted to know what her problem was. She pointed at me and said that’s Death. The guy’s go yeah we know who the fuck he is, so what’s up with the screaming and shit?

Well who could have known? Apparently this certain dancer used to hang out in the Lone Star back when she was seventeen. Cut me some slack, she looked mature for her age. And I used to as she put it watch over her. To my dismay, in front of all the Family guys she said that seeing me sitting there was like seeing her Dad.

“Her fucking Dad?”

The Family guys almost dropped their fuckin guns they laughed so hard. Me? I’ve found it hard to walk into a strip club ever since.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"


Blogger Ole Blue The Heretic said...

That shit is funny...but yea I have been getting that latly. I see some of my younger cousins who are family, they come and hug me, they are dressed to the T, and they look at me and say, this is my Uncle (since I am much older I get the Uncle treatment), he is my Mom's age.

I started hanging out at a bar that has people in it that are my age.

Great story!

11:07 AM  
Blogger HateTaxes said...

To be called "Dad" by a stripper. I feel your pain. Take two porn flicks and don't call anyone in the morning.

9:28 PM  

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