I Get Money

What happened to me? I decided to write something of substance. Something with meaning and stuff.

Unfortunately, the only thing I could think of is, I have yet another job! (Technically the third one only makes two and a half). I know, I know, why don’t I get a sugar daddy already? Well, I’m really enjoying building character and learning to work well with others. And when I buy my own sh*t, like a $200 pair of shoes, I don’t feel guilty.

What is my half job?
I‘ve taken up go-go dancing. Yes, Ms Puddin’ has been shakin’ her ass in her underwear, in the club, on a Saturday night. I’m a hustla baby! Go-go dancing is kind of like killing three birds with one stone. 1). I get paid to do it. 2). I don’t have to go to the gym. 3). I get to go to the club for free! The best part about that last point is that I don’t have to deal with all the lame guys in the club, because the dancers have security all to themselves. I also don’t get drinks spilled down my shirt, because I don’t even have to wear a shirt. (I wear a bra, booty shorts and some go-go boots).

If I had a man, he would appreciate this sweet piece of ass. Matter of fact, bottle blonde said it best when she listed the qualities in a man who she would get on her knees for. Someone who showers and who thinks I’m funny. Not funny looking.

So anyway, back to shakin’ my ass. Can someone please tell me why only females hit on me Saturday night? (That was a rhetorical question. Please refrain from actually responding). Yes, while I was dancing one girl slapped my ass, another insisted I let her buy me a drink, while their other friend kept pointing out my dancing skills to people unknown. Between stares she would snap pictures of me on her digital.

I did say I was thinking about crossing over to the other side, but when the opportunity presented itself I sort of froze up. I wasn’t prepared for it to be so easy. Well, drunk girls in the club are potentially easy…It was just so sudden I wasn't prepared.

I would also like to add my body feels like I got beat up by Hulk Hogan in a WWF showdown. I am really, really sore. I should have stretched, before dancing. However, I don't stretch before sex, so I don't see how this would be any different?

So much for writing a post of substance. Somehow in the last few hundred words I managed to write about sex, dancing half naked and (unintentional) lesbianism. Oh well, how was your weekend?