Best Thursday ever

I can't believe how tonight played out.

I came in late and I still banked.  The first thing I heard was my co-worker with the best tits going, "I'm just saying... Your ass should be illegal."  That made me smile so big.  She is so sexy!

I danced for a guy that looks like Hank from Breaking Bad, one of my favorite TV shows.



"Hey ladies, look what I got!"

He was my favorite tipper.  He tipped me a $20 on stage and I gave him that "are you sure?!" look.  He said he wanted to get my attention.  Finally, someone who has the right idea.  He paid way too much for his dances and told me he was coming back tomorrow.  I'll be there regardless, but that would be good if he came back.  I could use another good night.

Another guy tipped me a $20 on stage.  He was completely smitten, too.  This butt lift must be working.  I hope it works this well tomorrow and Saturday night.

After that, I was happy with my earnings before the drunk crowd showed up, but I stayed long enough to catch a drunk Canadian bread winner.  I wish every night was this good.

So I'm gonna work tomorrow and ride this wave of success while it lasts.  The end of the month is almost here and all that time I took off set me back.  Maybe these next two nights will help me make up for that.  We shall see.

I should like my job more

I finally went back to work.  I fucking killed it.  I knew tonight would be good, even though I didn't hustle one damn bit.  I did $20 dances all night, and no one fucking objected.  I had the best close out rate in a while.  It was very easy.

Apparently all the pie I ate while I wasn't working served me well.  Or maybe the butt lift.  Because my ass is big but getting better from the workout.

But tonight I played honest nice girl and it worked out for me.  I probably could have made more if I was hustling, but I wasn't willing to play that way.  I was convinced this one guy didn't want to dance and later I sat down in the seat next to him to stretch out my back and take a breath. I guess I looked endearing while out of character and he got a couple dances.  Sweet.  Yay for being sore and tired!

A lot of guys commented that I was the nicest girl in the club.  I felt like being candy; sugar sweet and dirt cheap.  And I still made a bunch of money.  It feels good to make some cash.  I'm glad I went in.

Strippers like South Park too

My small business model looks vaguely similar to the paperwork of Butters' kissing company.

I got Butters that one time I took a "Which South Park character are you" quiz.  It's so true.  If I was a boy in fourth grade, I'd be much like Butters.

I have a schedule that looks like that one in the picture.  Butters said the girls who sell 20 kisses that day gets a little sunshine sticker.  Girls who don't work that day get a crying stormy cloud.  That would be tonight.  I just don't wanna go back to work.  I'm so lazy.  I just don't care right now.  My inner corporate cocksucker is scolding me but I don't even hear it.

Do you know what I am saying?

We have lift off!

My butt lift kit came in the mail yesterday.

Today was my first day of trying the workout videos.  I haven't sweat this much since cross country practice in high school.  The exercises were challenging, but possible.  I couldn't do every move, and I fell behind on tempo but it's my first day - I didn't expect to do all the moves perfectly.

But if the ladies in the videos can do those workouts, so can I.  In fact, those ladies have perfect bodies.  They remind me of the tens I work with, and I'm jealous of them for the same reason - their bodies are so fucking sick and I want to be that cut.

The kit also came with meal suggestions.  I haven't eaten any junk food today and I'm glad.  I thought I would be starving, but I feel fine and hungry for nutiritious foods, not cookies and chips.  I want some chicken salad, now.

I'm happy I'm getting off to a decent start.  Let this day be the first of many sweaty, sexy booty workouts and healthy diet choices.

If there's any better time to go on vacation...

It's this past weekend.  I skipped it all.  There's a flu going around.

I'm not mentally up for work, going in and seeing all the same faces, especially the ones I don't want to see.  Not just the vulture chicks with bigger claws, but the broke douchebags.  I can't look.

So I'm prepared to take the hit financially - I know it will suck.  I might work Wednesday or any other slow night to help catch up.

Time to DO something about it.

I once had depression a few years ago during my second year of college, before I started dancing.

I saw a therapist through my old job's EAP program for three free sessions.  She helped me understand what therapists do for a living.  It must be exhausting listening to people cry about their problems.  She dug up a lot of bad memories from my childhood (even though I don't think I had a bad childhood) and concluded that I had depression in one session.  The next two sessions I spent trying to convince her I didn't need pills to make my sadness and self-hatred go away.

I was just growing up, learning the hard way how to be totally responsible for my own actions.  What really set me off was getting an F in my calculus class and a D in another class, and a C- in another.  I had never done so shitty in school before.  I had no idea how to handle failure or how to recover from it.  I had practice making mistakes during a song in band class, and the way to handle it was to just keep playing.

But failing classes and making no money at my restaurant job seemed like failures at life, something to take more seriously than a silly band song.  Well, I took it too seriously.  I was so disappointed with myself, my failures were all I could think about.

What really snapped me out of it was my friend at the restaurant.  She's a year younger than me, but more grown up in other ways.  She was just as stressed out as me, but she relieved her stress through anger, unlike my tears.  One day I was crying in the break room after getting yelled at for being slow, saying my life sucked and she heard me and snapped, "your life sucks because you don't DO anything about it!"

That made me cry even more because she was totally right.  I was wasting my time complaining.

I looked at the past few posts in my blog, and they remind me of the time I got so down about my bad grades.  I have been feeling so down about making hardly anything last week and I took it too personal.  I ate a whole pie like Sookie (the girl from True Blood) did when her grandma died.  I eat fattening foods the same way an alcoholic drinks away their sorrows.

NOT GOOD if I still wanna strip.  I'm not 18 anymore so that pie went straight to my ass and thighs, my body's new hiding spot for cellulite.

So, in spite of all my pie-eating and whining about my failure as a stripper, I ordered the Brazil Butt Lift workout program.  For a few months I had been watching the infomercials on mute (because I can't STAND the sound of commercials) while unwinding after work, enjoying the 30 minutes of sexy booty footage.

I figured it's time for a new workout.  My buns of steel DVD crapped out on me when I tried to copy it, so I need a new video anyway.  I know I'll feel better once I start getting into it.  I already feel better knowing the kit is on its way.  I think I'm gonna go celebrate with a cherry pie that way I'm nice and fat for my "before" picture... Just kidding.

I can already hear customers complimenting my body 3 weeks from now.

GOD DAMN!  LOOK AT THAT ASS!

And my super sexy co-worker with the most gorgeous tits going, "YOUR ASS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL, BITCH!"

God, I love her.  I really do love my job, that's why I haven't quit.  Time to harden my shell and do as my mom told me, "keep on truckin."

Avoiding fail

I'm trying to be less butt hurt about last week.  I made pennies on Thursday and Friday night, and I missed out on Saturday night.  I already regret it.  I could've made up for it.  Or I could've failed again, I'll never really know.

The things I've been doing to avoid fail since then include baking and cooking.  Something just as simple, yet easy to fail at.  Two days ago, I made an apple pie from scratch, and it turned out so good, there isn't any left. Then my roommate wanted me to make raspberry cookie bars, and they are totally delicious, too.

I'm going to get myself fucking fired from the strip club if I don't start working off all this comfort food.  I think I had pizza for dinner, Chinese food last night.  I'm eating like a pig and it's gonna start showing if I don't start a triathlon.  I hit a bump on my bike the other day and I felt my thighs jiggling.  Omg!

I gotta get smart and make money somewhere else.  I should've went back to school this week.

This is the age when laziness strikes back.  I'm gonna be 25 soon.  I finally get cheaper car insurance. I can't think of anything else that's good for being 25.  I can rent a car by myself?  Whoop-tee do!

I wanna be a pimp, rent collector, or some type of owner.  They make big bucks just by taking other people's hard-earned money.

If only I could mind control people.  My naked mind-control spell has diminishing returns, especially when other girls are also mind-controlling men at work.

I need to do something not many other people can make money at.  Whored-out professions lead to insane competition, and I'm running out of tricks to stay competitive in the stripping world.  I wanna move, get my own house, grow my own food, catch my own rain water, raise my own animals, and live off the grid.   I know it's possible, just not easy.

I guess I better get used to things not being easy anymore.  Seems like every year gets harder.

This cake is crumbling.

I decided to stay home last night.  I feel insane skipping a Saturday, but I didn't want to have three bad nights in a row.

I clearly can't make money when I'm stressed out.  My feet fucking hurt from wearing new shoes for two nights, I'm yeasty, my toenails are chipped ALREADY... Maybe this just wasn't a week to work for me.

I really just want to be responsible about making money, and I hate that I can't control my income on some nights because on some nights the supply heavily outweighs demand.  And I'm a terrible hustler.  And everybody's broke.

A little astrology for those that care - My pisces ass was last in line for money, and it sucked.  The money cake was light and small and by the time I got to it, all that was left was crumbs and a half-eaten piece.

I need a new source of income.  I need to manage my resources better.  I need to get smarter.  I'm off to a very slow start.  God, I need to do better!

Surplus pussy

God damn, all the guys that came in must've went broke.

It's a common problem.  Too common.

So there were a million girls working, all for the same reason, of course.  Last night was awful, and tonight was almost as awful.  I am squared up for tip out, but on my end, I'm still left with pitiful take home pay.

I'm not nearly as stressed out as last night, though.  Perhaps my skin thickened up from last night's financial beating.

Time to get the ladle and dip into savings.  Bills still gotta get paid.  I owe so much money to student loans I'm never gonna get them paid at this rate.

Stripping is not an economically viable career for me, ugh I should go be a dental hygienist.  I can do that when I'm old.  I can deal with dirty mouths all day, at least I won't be bugged for blowjobs.

I need to bounce back, come on Saturday, work that magic!

Worst night ever

Words can't express how terrible I feel right now.  But you're stuck with my words so here it goes:

Candyman was there.  I swear to god, every night he is at the club is a bad night.  And of course he was the first to tip me.  One dollar.

God dammit.

I'm so embarrassed.

I might as well have been tipped with change.

I could barely afford tip out, so I didn't tip out.  I have never failed paying tip out.  I fucking SUCK SO FUCKING BAD URGHGH I HATE THIS JOB!

I got only one guy to buy one dance.

All the shark bitches were working.  They certainly didn't make it easy for me.  It didn't help that barely any guys showed up.  I think between 2-3, only two guys walked in.  And the ones that came in late were terrible, or snatched up by another vulture chick.  Some girls made a lot of money tonight.  I wasn't one of them.

I even had on the sexiest lingerie I fucking own.  And I still couldn't get any attention from the guys with any money.  What is wrong with me?

A stupid monkey could make more money than I did.

I fucking suck at selling lap dances.

Such bullshit!

I cried like a bitch at the end of my shift.

I'm still crying.

I am so disappointed.

I've made more money when I was drunk.

I made "kill yourself" money.  I felt like killing myself on the way home.  But then I thought, "over ONE bad fucking night? You're better than that.  And mom would be crushed.  I can't do that to her."

I need to redeem myself and then some tomorrow.  But it seems like this job is only going to get tougher.  And I was so pumped to get back to work and make some money.  NOPE.  Not tonight.

I feel like a beat-up dog crawling into a corner with my tail between my legs.

I feel so worthless.  I looked like a god damn winner and I feel like I'm the farthest thing from a winner.  I hate coming home so disappointed.  I stayed up past my bedtime FOR THIS!?

Like an idiot, I'm not gonna find another line of work.  I'm just gonna show up tomorrow night.

Nights like this make me fucking hate this job so much.  I just want to cause horrible destruction to release all this rage I have.  I'm so stressed out, cranky as fuck.  I gotta stop writing because all I'm doing now is complaining.

But this is the harsh reality of a bad night of stripping.  It sucks big time.

New year, new approach

I've been on vacation from stripper land for more than a week now.  My soul feels much better but my wallet doesn't, but that's expected since soul and wallet are inversely related.  It's obviously time to go back to work because I'm dipping into my car savings to pay bills.  I want a new car, dammit.

I also want to do things a little differently.  I've run all the numbers from last year, my income and my bills.  Holy fuck, I have spent a lot of money on bills.  Student loans are a bitch!  I'm thinking about canceling my cell phone plan and getting a cheaper one.  I don't think I can cut out any more expenses because they are "necessary."  Like rent, gas, food and water. 

So how will I make more money this year?  I thought about adding Wednesday night to my work week.  I'm on the fence with this one.  Wednesday nights can be really dead, but that's not to say I can't make good money that night.  

I also thought about going to work a couple of hours sooner than I normally did last year.  A lot of the moneymaking bitches at work show up early, like at 8.  I used to show up that early, but I got impatient since most of the time it was dead between 8-10.  

Also, I'm gonna hustle harder.  Say goodbye to $20 dances, forever.  I feel like I lose if I don't charge more than that.  It's called, SETTLING.  And all the wisest people in my life have told me this phrase before: "Don't settle!" 

It's not like I wanna dance for only $20 anyway.  If he can't afford me, I don't want him.  I don't want to give out good deals.  I'll do everything I can to make it sound like a good deal, though.  I can just see myself saying to someone, "it's a good deal!" while purposely not adding "...for me."

It's a good deal FOR ME.

I hope this year is better, though everyone says each year gets worse.  Maybe I should get into a new business.  I wanna go back to school.  I keep saying that.  I might wait til the fall because I still don't really know what I wanna go back for.  I need a clear, attainable goal before I jump back into that pond.  

I need bigger balls, and I need to stick to my guns more.  

So the official new years resolution is to make more money than last year, go back to school, and budget smarter.

In a few words: get smarter.