Please Scroll Down to See Forums Below Would you date a stripper or a prostitute, or a former stripper/prostitute? For example, if your girlfriend confided in you that in the past she'd worked as an exotic dancer or an escort (of course, there's a difference between an exotic dancer & an escort so some people would be okay with dating one, but not the other), would you still want to date her?
Would you date a stripper or a prostitute?
- Thread starter jaded
- Start date
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
no, but I'd stick it in her butt 
GoldenDelicious
New member
Razorguns said:
fb only tho
awittyusername
New member
Dating a stripper is one of the things that should be manditory before a guy gets married. He should know the highs and lows of dating a stripper.
Many guys latch onto the first piece of pussy and marry them without experiancing the world. I know 2 guys who married young and worked there ass off to support his family. By the time they were about 30 making 100k. Both fell in love w/strippers and left their wife. Of course, the strippers just used them for the money and they fucked up their lives.
BTW about the prostitute question. The question is moot. Because, every guy here has paid for sex weather he knows it or not.
Many guys latch onto the first piece of pussy and marry them without experiancing the world. I know 2 guys who married young and worked there ass off to support his family. By the time they were about 30 making 100k. Both fell in love w/strippers and left their wife. Of course, the strippers just used them for the money and they fucked up their lives.
BTW about the prostitute question. The question is moot. Because, every guy here has paid for sex weather he knows it or not.
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
Today was switch avatars day. A bunch a people did it...DIVISION said:Is she okay with you having her pic in your avatar, bro?
Probably best to ask her for permission.
DIV
Rule on this board is, if it's not in the gallery, it's fair game.
T
The Shadow
Guest
date or have a relationship with - lol
T
The Shadow
Guest
oh MY
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
That's not Frisky...
T
The Shadow
Guest
lol
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
Nah, playa', that dust is fuckin' wid chu...raise upDIVISION said:The ass picture was frisky........
DIV
T
The Shadow
Guest
...lol
he has a lot of good pics
he has a lot of good pics
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
no editing in this thread, missy.....jaded said:
bebe girl
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
who?BileStew said:
T
The Shadow
Guest
dude....its like this.....if you do not have explicit permission to use any or all of those avs...you are gonna get banned.
No questions asked.
so.....do you??
have permission for all of them?
No questions asked.
so.....do you??
have permission for all of them?
BileStew said:
Shit that`s what I meant. Tripleblonde. lol 2000 posts/day girl.
The Shadow said:
ShadowHolmes...if that's the case alot of people here would be banned.
Do you really think UlcasterCripMaster had permission from every single person to use those pics as avatars?
That said, I don't think you should ban the poor fuck.......let him live.
DIV
T
The Shadow
Guest
DIVISION said:ShadowHolmes...if that's the case alot of people here would be banned.
Do you really think UlcasterCripMaster had permission from every single person to use those pics as avatars?
That said, I don't think you should ban the poor fuck.......let him live.
DIV
I know he doesnt.....thats why they will come down....and I will let hinm live...lol
Razorguns said:
Yeah b/w the two, a stripper, she has better moves.
string_bean00
New member
Stripper, yes. Prostitute, hell no.
I dated a bunch of strippers. I dont even go to those places, but I always tened to run into them in regular clubs. They're usually fun and outgoing, plus look good. So they always caught my eye. Even when i tried not to, I always ended up dating one.
The only problem with some is they can become a little jaded about guys, and that could be rough. But that depends on the girl. It's also hard for some to adjust to the lack of being the focus of every guys attention, but again, thats an individual thing. There is a certain power for some with the idea of every guy in a club sweating them, which is understandable,a nd they can miss it sometimes.
My ex was a go go dancer for a while, so I was with her for ten years.
Never dated a "hooker" (which are not even in the same league, its an insult to compare the two) on purpose. But did date a girl in college for a month who Ilater learbned was working in a massage place. I actually knew she was working massage, just didnt know what went on in them till some friends set me straight about it. I didnt believe it, and asked her. She admitted what goes on there.
And by acicdernt I ended up dating two girls (seperately and each briefly) who did porno, but didnt know about it till later. One chick told me she worked as a secretary, then a while later it was a secretary in a company that made porn, then to she sometimes went to shoots, all the way to finally admitting a few weeks later that she "performed" in them as well
The only problem with some is they can become a little jaded about guys, and that could be rough. But that depends on the girl. It's also hard for some to adjust to the lack of being the focus of every guys attention, but again, thats an individual thing. There is a certain power for some with the idea of every guy in a club sweating them, which is understandable,a nd they can miss it sometimes.
My ex was a go go dancer for a while, so I was with her for ten years.
Never dated a "hooker" (which are not even in the same league, its an insult to compare the two) on purpose. But did date a girl in college for a month who Ilater learbned was working in a massage place. I actually knew she was working massage, just didnt know what went on in them till some friends set me straight about it. I didnt believe it, and asked her. She admitted what goes on there.
And by acicdernt I ended up dating two girls (seperately and each briefly) who did porno, but didnt know about it till later. One chick told me she worked as a secretary, then a while later it was a secretary in a company that made porn, then to she sometimes went to shoots, all the way to finally admitting a few weeks later that she "performed" in them as well
nvrbuffenuff_girl
New member
My boyfriend dated and lived with two strippers for about 3 years. He started dating one stripper. She brought home her friend and they all three were in a relationship together for 3 years. The first one he started dating ended up getting jealous of the otehr one and slowly the relationship fizzled. I've even met one of the two as they remained friends.
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
dude, that's like too much ass for one bor to have...bluepeter said:Yeah it does. The stripper I dated for about 6 months lived with 5 other strippers. I banged them all at one time or another including several group encounters.
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
NJjuice22 said:
wnt2bBeast
New member
bluepeter said:Yeah it does. The stripper I dated for about 6 months lived with 5 other strippers. I banged them all at one time or another including several group encounters.
good for you lol
i knew a few strippers not as intimately as blue..but some are diriter than a prostitute and others only dance on stage and it ends there..
a stripper who only stripped i could date a prostitute no
dancer yeah, hooker no
U
Ulcasterdropout
Guest
cuz you ran outa nutbluepeter said:Why do you think it only lasted 6 months
The Red Dragon
New member
Prostitute - Nope - disease and the past life musta been really fucked up
Stripper - Nope - after working after a stripper I couldn't see how you could respect the gender of your clients (and see them as a person rather than a source of money)
Stripper - Nope - after working after a stripper I couldn't see how you could respect the gender of your clients (and see them as a person rather than a source of money)
S
Spartacus
Guest
So you want to date a stripper?
by Greg Bruns
So you got a stripper's phone number, huh? Called her up and chatted about this and that and had a nice little conversation with her, huh? What's her name? Cinnamon? Going out with her for lunch on Saturday, eh? Very Nice. Here are a few tips — because dating a stripper is a hazardous affair and the only thing you're going to get out of this insane ride are bragging rights for the rest of your life. This article is based on information gleaned from my brief stay in Stripperville.
First of all, you've got to have a destination in mind before you embark on this venture. What do you want from the Stripper? A few fun evenings out on the town with a little hottie on your arm? Sex? Free passes to the Titty Bar where you met her? Everlasting true love? Handjob? Look — walking into this without a goal is certain means for failure, because she operates on her own terms and if you let her manipulate you and lead the show, you're sunk. She meets 50 guys a night who are potential dates, so she's just playing the odds with you. She's thinking she just might meet someone who can handle her, but no one can. Trust me. No one can handle her. You'll never change her or pull her out of Stripperville. Remember that and keep your eyes on the prize.
Several points to consider:
1. You're not Special.
You're one of 18 guys she's juggling right now, and one of a hundred who witness her naked glory every night. It's her job to make guys feel like they're the only one she's interested in. She gets paid handsomely for that skill. That sultry stare she's giving you across the dinner table with those piercing green eyes is the same look that forces 75 men-a-night to fumble for their wallets and jam fistfuls of green into her G-string even though they're six months behind on child support.
2. She makes more money than you. Get used to it.
Keep in mind that she pulls down more than most corporate attorneys (who also represent a large portion of her clientele). She's ripping 2-5K a week tax-free, and you shouldn't expect her to pay for anything. It's not in her nature. Guys fawn all over her every single night and offer her stacks of crisp Benjamins in an effort to get their knobs slobbered on in the parking lot behind the club (something she'll claim she's never done, but the other girls at the club have — right — she's done it at least once).
3. If you get emotionally involved with this girl, you're in for a hurricane of pain.
Your future with this chick: broken dates, shattered windows, holes punched in doors, a slew of ex-boyfriends and husbands, a thousand "friends" calling all the time, an encyclopedia of restraining orders she has out on said exes and a couple customers who stalked her for six months. Her apartment is littered with soggy G-strings and cheap 8-inch heeled shoes, along with empty tubes of body glitter, mascara, prescription drugs, zit cream, Aqua Net and Polaroid pictures of her and her "friends" engaged in some drinking and dancing on St. Patrick's Day last year. The Polaroid pictures of her and her stripper friends getting nasty for the entire bar are still circulating around town because one of the guys she dated last month stole them out of her nightstand when he sensed the end was near and he wasn't going to be getting any more Cinnamon Love.
3. She has more guy friends than you had all throughout high school and college, collectively.
Sometimes they'll just drop in when you two are hanging out and you're thinking it might get romantic. The guy friend will ask her — right in front of you — if she wants to go to Happy Hour at the Knick Knack Paddy Whack Lounge and she'll look at you with bright eyes and say, "Yeah — let's go to Happy Hour with Tim here — it'll be fun!" And you, still gripping on to that glimmer of hope for some pussy, will say yes and you'll spend the next three hours in a simmering rage while you quaff watered-down Bud Light drafts, because she's the most popular girl in the bar and every person with a penis in there is looking to hop on the Stripper Wagon that is blazing through Stripperville at a very unsafe speed.
All of those "guy friends" started out just like you, chief. They saw the Promised Titty Land and thought they could get there, too. Once they tired of the bullshit and drama, or she found someone else, they were relegated to "friends." They could've bought a fucking sailboat with all the money they blew on young Cinnamon, and now they hang on to some last vestige of hope, thinking that she may just get drunk enough some night and let them put their spit on the slit. You guys could all get together and swap the exact same stories about wasted nights, full-blown disappointment, and confused, desperate whack-off sessions when you all found out that dating a stripper is no different than trying to debate Nietzsche with a Dalmation.
4. Her life is a flurry of activity selected at random.
This stimulates her sub-par self-esteem. At 10am she will be rocketing down the freeway at 130mph on the back of some guy's crotch rocket. By 1pm she's already at some different guy's house, swimming naked in the pool with him and his Great Dane named Robo. By 5pm she's doing "X" at some other guy's house, and from there she goes home for the five-minute shower and gets ready for work.
5. She'll blow you off for three dates in a row.
When you keep calling, she knows she has you. That Saturday night dinner and special room you've secured at the fucking Ritz will be vaporized after she tells you she's going to Mexico with some of her "friends." Her whimsical trip to Mexico will forever after be known as Cabo Wabo Orgy 2002, and you'll likely come across some digital pix of her fellating two guys on the beach in Cabo while you're scanning some amateur porn site on the Net.
It's a crazy affair, for sure, but just remember these do's and don'ts and you'll be fine:
DON'T ever call her and not announce your name. Her phone rings more than all of the lines at the New York Times combined. Don't put her in the precarious position of trying to guess your name. "Is it Steve? Rick? Mike? Dave? Javier? Justin? Michael? Chris? Matt? Juan? Adam? Alex? Roberto? Ed? Brian? Eugene? Tim?" She'll make it quite clear that she has many suitors, which excites her to no end, and puts you in a bottle of bourbon all alone by 9pm that night. Try to sound upbeat: "Hi Cinnamon, this is Greg, I was just walking through Tiffany's, looking at a $900 sterling-silver ashtray and thought of you." (She smokes. They all smoke. She'd gush over an ashtray from Tiffany's. Don't buy it, though. Make her think you would've bought it for her, if only there was a rose engraved on it.)
DON'T ask her about her fucking tattoos unless you want to look like one of her customers.
DON'T go see her at her job unless it's absolutely necessary. A necessity would be getting her condo key so you can go feed her cat. If you get to that point, FYI, you're now one of her "friends," and you can wrap up the sexual fantasies you have of her by beating off right on her pillow after you throw the cat some Meow Mix.
DON'T try to keep up with her. Don't skip work to spend the day with her. She works nights and you work days. Keep your job. Her days are spent at tanning booths, Frederick's of Hollywood and chic outdoor cafés where her and her stripper "friends" eat poached salmon salads with dressing on the side.
DO carry lots of hundreds in a money clip. Make sure she sees you strip off the bills when the dinner check comes. Or better yet, whip out the Corporate Amex and toss it on the table like you're folding a bad poker hand. Clasp your hands behind your head and lean back into your chair after you make the Amex toss, as if to say, "See that? Unlimited credit, baby."
DO kiss her on the cheek when she shows up at your place for the nice dinner you're going to cook her, and knock her fishnets off with your ability to handle the cuisine and wine. At some early point in the evening though, you're going to have to find her cell phone in her purse and steal the battery out of it, because that thing will ring incessantly and she will eventually find something or someone better to do. Pull the battery or she's going to get some call at midnight, when you've got the Miles Davis playing lightly in the background, and the candles illuminating the room in a soft glow and you think you're about to "storm the beach." This call will undoubtedly be from one of her "friends" who is going to an after-hours party at some country bar and all of the sudden she'll squeal with delight and jot down the address on her hand and say to you, "Let's go Two-Stepping at the Country Bunker with John and Kevin!"
DO remember this: strippers are more fucked up than The Who was during their 1973 U.K. "Quadrophenia" Tour. They're a bad lot to hang out with, because there's so much freedom and money in Stripperville. They've got it all and they don't need you or anyone else. All they need is their Xanax and Raspberry Stoli on the rocks and their job. Yeah — the job. That's what fuels the lifestyle and you're never going to pry her from it. Don't even suggest it.
If your goal from the aforementioned list is "sex," you need to understand that it's going to take at least five dates. At least. Figure $250 per date. Compound that and it's a nice little used Hobie Cat or a decent house payment. While that fine body, devoid of tan lines, might fuel you to the fifth date, I'd recommend looking into escort services in your area. With an escort, you're getting what you want right off the bat, and it'll likely cost you half of what Cinnamon is charging.
Good luck in Stripperville. It'll be a short stay, but something you'll talk about for years to come.
bio
Greg A. Bruns is a freelance writer residing in Phoenix, Arizona. His monthly column "Straight Up with a Twist" appears in the Arcadia News. His first book, Tales from the Scenic Route, is currently unpublished. Greg also pens "Ask the Faceless Assassin" - an "advice" column.
Note: Featured author in October
E-mail: [email protected]
by Greg Bruns
So you got a stripper's phone number, huh? Called her up and chatted about this and that and had a nice little conversation with her, huh? What's her name? Cinnamon? Going out with her for lunch on Saturday, eh? Very Nice. Here are a few tips — because dating a stripper is a hazardous affair and the only thing you're going to get out of this insane ride are bragging rights for the rest of your life. This article is based on information gleaned from my brief stay in Stripperville.
First of all, you've got to have a destination in mind before you embark on this venture. What do you want from the Stripper? A few fun evenings out on the town with a little hottie on your arm? Sex? Free passes to the Titty Bar where you met her? Everlasting true love? Handjob? Look — walking into this without a goal is certain means for failure, because she operates on her own terms and if you let her manipulate you and lead the show, you're sunk. She meets 50 guys a night who are potential dates, so she's just playing the odds with you. She's thinking she just might meet someone who can handle her, but no one can. Trust me. No one can handle her. You'll never change her or pull her out of Stripperville. Remember that and keep your eyes on the prize.
Several points to consider:
1. You're not Special.
You're one of 18 guys she's juggling right now, and one of a hundred who witness her naked glory every night. It's her job to make guys feel like they're the only one she's interested in. She gets paid handsomely for that skill. That sultry stare she's giving you across the dinner table with those piercing green eyes is the same look that forces 75 men-a-night to fumble for their wallets and jam fistfuls of green into her G-string even though they're six months behind on child support.
2. She makes more money than you. Get used to it.
Keep in mind that she pulls down more than most corporate attorneys (who also represent a large portion of her clientele). She's ripping 2-5K a week tax-free, and you shouldn't expect her to pay for anything. It's not in her nature. Guys fawn all over her every single night and offer her stacks of crisp Benjamins in an effort to get their knobs slobbered on in the parking lot behind the club (something she'll claim she's never done, but the other girls at the club have — right — she's done it at least once).
3. If you get emotionally involved with this girl, you're in for a hurricane of pain.
Your future with this chick: broken dates, shattered windows, holes punched in doors, a slew of ex-boyfriends and husbands, a thousand "friends" calling all the time, an encyclopedia of restraining orders she has out on said exes and a couple customers who stalked her for six months. Her apartment is littered with soggy G-strings and cheap 8-inch heeled shoes, along with empty tubes of body glitter, mascara, prescription drugs, zit cream, Aqua Net and Polaroid pictures of her and her "friends" engaged in some drinking and dancing on St. Patrick's Day last year. The Polaroid pictures of her and her stripper friends getting nasty for the entire bar are still circulating around town because one of the guys she dated last month stole them out of her nightstand when he sensed the end was near and he wasn't going to be getting any more Cinnamon Love.
3. She has more guy friends than you had all throughout high school and college, collectively.
Sometimes they'll just drop in when you two are hanging out and you're thinking it might get romantic. The guy friend will ask her — right in front of you — if she wants to go to Happy Hour at the Knick Knack Paddy Whack Lounge and she'll look at you with bright eyes and say, "Yeah — let's go to Happy Hour with Tim here — it'll be fun!" And you, still gripping on to that glimmer of hope for some pussy, will say yes and you'll spend the next three hours in a simmering rage while you quaff watered-down Bud Light drafts, because she's the most popular girl in the bar and every person with a penis in there is looking to hop on the Stripper Wagon that is blazing through Stripperville at a very unsafe speed.
All of those "guy friends" started out just like you, chief. They saw the Promised Titty Land and thought they could get there, too. Once they tired of the bullshit and drama, or she found someone else, they were relegated to "friends." They could've bought a fucking sailboat with all the money they blew on young Cinnamon, and now they hang on to some last vestige of hope, thinking that she may just get drunk enough some night and let them put their spit on the slit. You guys could all get together and swap the exact same stories about wasted nights, full-blown disappointment, and confused, desperate whack-off sessions when you all found out that dating a stripper is no different than trying to debate Nietzsche with a Dalmation.
4. Her life is a flurry of activity selected at random.
This stimulates her sub-par self-esteem. At 10am she will be rocketing down the freeway at 130mph on the back of some guy's crotch rocket. By 1pm she's already at some different guy's house, swimming naked in the pool with him and his Great Dane named Robo. By 5pm she's doing "X" at some other guy's house, and from there she goes home for the five-minute shower and gets ready for work.
5. She'll blow you off for three dates in a row.
When you keep calling, she knows she has you. That Saturday night dinner and special room you've secured at the fucking Ritz will be vaporized after she tells you she's going to Mexico with some of her "friends." Her whimsical trip to Mexico will forever after be known as Cabo Wabo Orgy 2002, and you'll likely come across some digital pix of her fellating two guys on the beach in Cabo while you're scanning some amateur porn site on the Net.
It's a crazy affair, for sure, but just remember these do's and don'ts and you'll be fine:
DON'T ever call her and not announce your name. Her phone rings more than all of the lines at the New York Times combined. Don't put her in the precarious position of trying to guess your name. "Is it Steve? Rick? Mike? Dave? Javier? Justin? Michael? Chris? Matt? Juan? Adam? Alex? Roberto? Ed? Brian? Eugene? Tim?" She'll make it quite clear that she has many suitors, which excites her to no end, and puts you in a bottle of bourbon all alone by 9pm that night. Try to sound upbeat: "Hi Cinnamon, this is Greg, I was just walking through Tiffany's, looking at a $900 sterling-silver ashtray and thought of you." (She smokes. They all smoke. She'd gush over an ashtray from Tiffany's. Don't buy it, though. Make her think you would've bought it for her, if only there was a rose engraved on it.)
DON'T ask her about her fucking tattoos unless you want to look like one of her customers.
DON'T go see her at her job unless it's absolutely necessary. A necessity would be getting her condo key so you can go feed her cat. If you get to that point, FYI, you're now one of her "friends," and you can wrap up the sexual fantasies you have of her by beating off right on her pillow after you throw the cat some Meow Mix.
DON'T try to keep up with her. Don't skip work to spend the day with her. She works nights and you work days. Keep your job. Her days are spent at tanning booths, Frederick's of Hollywood and chic outdoor cafés where her and her stripper "friends" eat poached salmon salads with dressing on the side.
DO carry lots of hundreds in a money clip. Make sure she sees you strip off the bills when the dinner check comes. Or better yet, whip out the Corporate Amex and toss it on the table like you're folding a bad poker hand. Clasp your hands behind your head and lean back into your chair after you make the Amex toss, as if to say, "See that? Unlimited credit, baby."
DO kiss her on the cheek when she shows up at your place for the nice dinner you're going to cook her, and knock her fishnets off with your ability to handle the cuisine and wine. At some early point in the evening though, you're going to have to find her cell phone in her purse and steal the battery out of it, because that thing will ring incessantly and she will eventually find something or someone better to do. Pull the battery or she's going to get some call at midnight, when you've got the Miles Davis playing lightly in the background, and the candles illuminating the room in a soft glow and you think you're about to "storm the beach." This call will undoubtedly be from one of her "friends" who is going to an after-hours party at some country bar and all of the sudden she'll squeal with delight and jot down the address on her hand and say to you, "Let's go Two-Stepping at the Country Bunker with John and Kevin!"
DO remember this: strippers are more fucked up than The Who was during their 1973 U.K. "Quadrophenia" Tour. They're a bad lot to hang out with, because there's so much freedom and money in Stripperville. They've got it all and they don't need you or anyone else. All they need is their Xanax and Raspberry Stoli on the rocks and their job. Yeah — the job. That's what fuels the lifestyle and you're never going to pry her from it. Don't even suggest it.
If your goal from the aforementioned list is "sex," you need to understand that it's going to take at least five dates. At least. Figure $250 per date. Compound that and it's a nice little used Hobie Cat or a decent house payment. While that fine body, devoid of tan lines, might fuel you to the fifth date, I'd recommend looking into escort services in your area. With an escort, you're getting what you want right off the bat, and it'll likely cost you half of what Cinnamon is charging.
Good luck in Stripperville. It'll be a short stay, but something you'll talk about for years to come.
bio
Greg A. Bruns is a freelance writer residing in Phoenix, Arizona. His monthly column "Straight Up with a Twist" appears in the Arcadia News. His first book, Tales from the Scenic Route, is currently unpublished. Greg also pens "Ask the Faceless Assassin" - an "advice" column.
Note: Featured author in October
E-mail: [email protected]
S
Spartacus
Guest
same herehardrock said:
