I LOVE NFL MONDAYS!!!

I had my first office to stripclub shift on Monday and boy was it eventful. A big group of americanfootballers came in, I thought they were the miMi dolphins but they turned out to be the San Fran 49ers. Hey, how am I to know the difference? They were all huge tall guys , with dark black skin rippled with muscles. I couldn't stop touching them , their arms, those six packs - definitely not ur average British guy. They had cute accents and funny ballsy american chat up lines and pearly White teeth which shone like beacons in the bright spotlights of my club.
The best BEST bit tho had to be when I got up on stage. Now I hadbeen working my charms on one footballer in particular but hadn't got a penny ,(or dime)outta him yet. But he was a yank, and boy do they love to tip on stAge, so when I heArd the DJ call me up next song I dropped some pretty heavy hints. In fact, my hints couldn't have been more specific; I pointed out the stage i would be performing on, that I would be there for exactly two songs, and I would be very disappointed if he didn't watch and fold a note into hismouth so I could grab it with my teeth tits toes whatever.
He did brilliantly!!!! Strolled over second song and began showering me with five pound notes. Then his mates saw and wanted to join in so they came over and started chucking dance tokens at at me!!
The rest of the night, all of the other dancers were like, sent u the girl who got loads of tips on stage??? I felt so lucky and special. A proper SUPERSTRIPPER

I am currently sitting at my office desk. Under it lies a big leads bag filled with dancer clothes, 6" heels and long lashes. I am petrified my boss will catch me out, see my naughty bits and deduce that I am much more than your average admin assistant....
It's also making me kinda horny....not that I want to screw anyone in this office but I am pretty sure they would screw me given half a chance......OMB my boss crept up and looked over my shoulder as I wrote that. - thank god his eyesight can't read an iPhone from that height. Note to self - don't write about snagging people at work when I actually am at work

Back to stripping....

Sorry folks that I have been so quiet over the summer. I randomly got given an office job and thought, hell why not grow up and wear a suit?
Well that train of thought has lasted an entire six months and I am itching to get back to being me, sassy by name and sassy by (naked)nature!

Working in an office has had good and bad points:

Good; I am paying proper tax, have developed a 5 day a week work ethic, now super organised, and have a killer line in Thomas pink shirts and pinstripe.

Bad; I mustsa put on half a stone, no time for a daily exfoliation and pampering regime, White skin as I don't bother with fake tan, and I am completely broke - I have never had to budget for a whole month before!

Well guys n gals, you will be glad to hear that I have managed to renegotiate my hours to half days. I had to bullshit some sob story about difficulties at my family restaurant (read- stripcl o)

Really dumb Twitter-Stripper

errr, so I just looked at my blog and realised that I had already added a twitter link (see post below)

See, thats what happens when your stoned but stone-cold sober!!!!
You forget what you did when you were drunk!!!!

Twitter-Stripper

I realised that there is no link from my Twitter account (sassylapdancer) to my blog.

However, I also don't have a clue how to install this button, so hears a post about it instead. 

Bet if I was drunk I could've figured it out...

Tired ol'bones

Two strange things happened today;

1)    I walked out of work early.
2)    I walked out after only doing one dance - thats a £60 LOSS for the night.

The even stranger thing is,

1)   I was happy to go home.
2)   It wasn't the customers, or girls, or managements fault or aggravation.

Truth be told, I've been having back pain recently, to the extent that if I'm not tired or stoned enough to pass out, I wriggle a hell of a lot in bed and can't sleep for hours.  (By which time its probably daylight and I feel hungry anyway, so I just power thru a day on no sleep.)

So I thought I would step up and start going to yoga etc.
Well I went to Bikram Yoga yesterday, and felt fantastically energised and stretched out afterwards.
Today, I got a wonderful hour long full body massage, and my lovely French masseuse found my knots and pummelled me till I felt fantastically energised and stretched out afterwards.

So fantastic, in fact, that I decided I was fine to go to work tonight.

BIG MISTAKE

Around 9pm, so thats 4-5 hours after the massage, I am shivering in a cold empty club and my joints are seizing up all over the shop.  Then, even worse, I get called on stage.  I swear you could hear my bones clicking over the thumping bass-line.  I couldn't do my normal stage routine either, no pole tricks, no wiggling my hips, no touching my toes and waving my bum in the air.  All I could manage was to lean against the pole, wincing through the shooting pain, and rub my tits.  (This also helped me alleviate the muscle spasms, or at least took my mind off them and made me the tiniest bit horny).

So I may not be able to do LIVE ON THE NIGHT posts for a few days, as I will be laid up in my cosy bed, or a hot bath, but at least I will be naked, so it's not that different from my usual night-time activities.

2 boyfriend or to single? That is the question...

Fellow bloggers and lapdancers, I am faced with a hard truth today.  Or tonight rather, even though it is 8.22am, I only barely just got home and my mind is racing...

I went out for dinner with some pals of mine, dear successful pals who are in a loving and stable - albeit kinky, relationship and marriage.  They alerted me to some hard truths, and I feel compelled to share them with you. 

Basically, in their eyes, I fuck successful, yet date 'woof-woofs'.

The men I date are pushovers, artistic ttypes, who are always about to break into being the next big thing, but aren't actually there yet, but are getting there, just wait.

And fucking wait...

Well you know what?  I am so tired of waiting.  So tired of supporting, and ummm and ahhhing, whilst the rest of the world waits to catch up.  When I was 19, I started lapdancing.  I automatically had IN to all the cool stratospheri that I wanted.  Rock stars? I met them.  Politicians? I showed them my crotch and they promised me the world.  That entire basketball team, the NBA fucking champions?  They gave me front row seats.

Yet when it comes to dating, I've always gone for the artistic types that promise and give me nothing, except time and affection. 
Sounds great right?

No.  I just celebrated my 21st for the millionth time, and you know what?  After almost a decade of dancing, I think I am finally hardening.  I am so tired of socialising with people at work who throw money at me, whilst dating guys who freelance, or don't earn too much, or who are studying for something.  That's my role in life, and I looked in the mirror tonight, and saw a scary prospect.  I saw a girl who still looks like a girl but feels like a woman, a tired one at that, who just wants a chance, to be that girl who looks to her right and sees a strong man.

Girls, I think it may be time for some spring cleaning in my social and sex life. 
It's going to be painful, and its going to be lonely and nasty and so fucking painful and horrible its beyond words, but god damn it, I'm a hustler and can get through this.

I have to, because I am getting old, and my looks are fading, and my bones are tired, and these heels are KILLING me.....