PHI FUN

higgins@exile.ru

    So for the second time in two issues, I got invited to a fucking strip club. I mean, this fucking job is just getting better and fucking better. And this time it wasn’t one of those two bit fucking places like that Bega or something. No, this place’s name fucking says it all: SPEARMINT RHINO GENTLEMEN’S CLUB, over by the New Arbat.
    Before I tell you about it, though, let me just fucking say that at last there is a fucking place in this town that isn’t just full of scumbag mafia fucks or lowbrow monkey-whackers and shit. I mean this fucking place is actually classy—it looks like it could have been fucking imported from Vegas or something.
    But that isn’t the real point. Really what it’s all about is that they had some pretty talented motherfucker picking out the talent. I mean, the chicks in this Rhino club were first fucking rate. Especially this one bitch Ruslana who sat down on my lap as soon as I got there. I didn’t mind bouncing her anorexic ass on my fucking knee. No, first rate doesn’t even fucking begin to describe it. Every single fucking chick, from the fucking bombshell waitresses to the Amazon strippers in heels, was the shit. Un-fucking-believable.
    But I should qualify that, because there were a couple fat-ass bitches there. Since I was there on opening night, the management had flown in a boatload of American strippers and one fag ass announcer who has feltched so many fucking asses he has a permanent lisp. Man, I have nightmares of him being like, “You go, girlth.” Anyway, I don’t know if the American whores are going to be a permanent feature, but let Higgins make one fucking point clear:
    I’ve been to a fucking million strip bars on three fucking continents, and if Russians can do any fucking thing right it is show off their fucking boxes.
    These American cunts were too fucking fat and friendly. They are up there dancing as if they’re having the time of their lives. Fuck that. The Russians act like what they’re doing is actually fucking sexy. And they really were some celluloid intensive Americans. Translation: fat-ass fucking whores.
    There were two cute Americans, but one of them had fucking a tit job and those titties wouldn’t bounce for Jesus himself. Let’s face it, Americans should fucking stick to wedging themselves into power suits every fucking day.
    Back to the Russians, though. These strippers were fucking hot shit. Especially on the lesbian stage. There is this separate room where the girls play out your fucking lesbian fantasies! I mean, imagine this—these fucking chicks stripping and licking each other about a foot away from your head. You could see right up their fucking twats. I mean, the cum-hole was open wide and you could see a few inches in. I mean, fucking fuck.
    I shouldn’t forget about that bitch Ruslana. She was tailing me all night and finally I decided to get a fucking lap dance. I mean, she seemed to fucking like me, so why not give her a chance to give me a little rub down. The mistake I made was that I thought I was getting this shit for free. Higgins don’t like paying for fucking lap dances. No fucking way. I’ll pay a slut to fuck me, but not for some little tease. Fuck that.
    Anyway, the bitch wanted 20 bucks for that little rub down. Granted she was doing some serious grinding, but fuck that. They added insult to injury when the fucking free drinks dried up. So I had this bitch worried that she was going to get the smack down from some bouncer, I didn’t have any fucking drink in my hand, and since when do you get a free fucking write up without showing a man what you have to offer?
    So, I’ll tell you what I did. I paid the bitch half. I mean, that seemed fucking reasonable to me. Why should I be paying her skinny ass just for a little wiggle? She probably fucking enjoyed herself, too.
    Oh, there is one other thing about this Rhino place. I can’t confirm it, because they only open this week, but they’re going to have a few VIP rooms, Safari style. The room costs 200 bucks an hour. It ain’t that expensive when you think about it. Not if you think about how many brothers could satisfy themselves in a whole fucking hour when a freshman sorority slut dropped by the Phi Delt house. Safety in numbers, brothers, and you’ll fucking save some fucking dough, too.