Chubs McGee

True Story:

Chubs & I love female strip clubs. Yes, that’s right, we love going to a strip club and getting a lap dance from a 98 pound stick with a playboy bunny groomed into her v-jay and “I have daddy issues“ stamp tramped onto her back. Chubs & I have been attending these well-rounded, fatherless train wreck establishments for quite a few years now.

One Thursday night, while receiving free drinks from our new 40 year old friend, Matzo Ball (we didn’t know his real name & really didn’t give a crap) we heard an announcement that there would be a wet t-shirt contest for anyone who would care to join, & the prize would be free drinks & entry for the following Thursday evening.

Before I could say anything, Chubs jumped onto the table & ripped off her halfway buttoned up shirt, revealing the WHITE wife-beater she was wearing underneath. I knew the Hurricanes we had been feeding her all night weren’t such a good idea, but hey, this could definitely make for an interesting evening.

Chubs is about 5 ft 4 inches tall and is known as the “Ball of Cute“…..now, this could be because she is physically flawless…or it could be that every time we went out she made a point to make every black girl on the dance floor look like a white girl taking polka lessons. When it came to catching the attention of every male in the room, she definitely had it down.

We won’t go into details about the actual contest, not important. The fun part comes in afterwards…since, of course, Chubs won. Which was actually pretty sad for the other contestants, considering they were employees of the club, & by employees I mean the girls with tassles.

The owner of the club, who we’ll call Fatty, was trying his hardest to get Chubs to come work for him.
“You only pay a small fee to me, which I’m sure we can work out to your…advantage…hint, hint”

“What the hell?!” Chubs screamed. “I would rather put Momo outside on the corner than catch staff infection from that herpes infested crotch you call a ‘dance floor’”

“Wait! You would rather put ME on the corner?” I yelled. “Couldn’t you just dry hump him a little & call it even? Besides, we could really use the money….rent is in 2 weeks & I’m pretty sure d*ick-face isn’t gonna have his share!”

Chubs stood there contemplating the consequences of working for a 400 lb, 56 year old man, whose penis most likely wasn’t even noticeable below the fat apron he was wearing 2 feet under his belt.

Right then, one of the topless employees walked up to Fatty & asked if she could accept a drink from one of the patrons. Fatty proceeded to slap her to the floor while yelling at her to get her fat-ass on stage before he showed her what he was REALLY made of!

“A JELLY DONUT!!!!!” yelled Chubs.

“What?!” responded Fatty. “You’re made of a jelly donut! Just thought I would clear that up for you in case you FORGOT!” Wow…maybe the Hurricanes served a purpose after all.

While the topless one rolled around on the floor, laughing so hard her hooker heels fell off, we bolted out the door as quickly as possible……..so much for those freakin free drinks next Thursday.

Moral of the story kids: Don’t wear hooker heels unless you WANT to end up dry humping Fatty on a staff infected dance floor…...or kissing pavement…which ever comes first