A couple of years ago, I was approached by a stripper(whom shall remain nameless…but can be seen shaking her ass for cash most weeknights at The Penthouse strip club…and it’s a nice ass so it’s worth a look) for the purpose of creating business cards for her. I figured that if anybody had the money to pay me for my work, it would be a stripper. I wouldn’t care if she had to give me all ones. That would not have bothered me. The deal went sour when she came out her mouth and said “You want me to pay you? I thought we were friends?”
I was like “Come on now…This is business. That’s like me coming in your club, grabbing your titties and smacking your ass all night without putting anything in your thong or garter belt. It’s all business…It’s all relative.”
She refused to see my side of things, and I basically lost touch with her until a few months ago when I made a chance visit to “The ‘House”(they had to change the name from The Penthouse cause the magazine threatened a lawsuit) and she was up onstage shaking her nice round woman parts all over the place. Immediately, I thought about the business card thing and started laughing. The funny thing is, I know she probably found someone else to do it that next day and probably didn’t even have to let him touch a titty or anything. Ah well. Fuck it. What’s done is done.
That’s not really what made me come up with this topic. The reason I made this topic is WAY more embarassing. Something I didn’t even have the courage to tell ANYONE except my friend Tessa. Hell, I only told her because she doesn’t really know any of my other friends. My deep, dark secret is…
I beat my dick to a business card once.
In all fairness, let me tell you the background story. I was in Ozio lounge/cigar bar back during the NBA playoffs, talking with my friend and fellow HU alum Randy. He was on my right, but on my left were these two scantily clad twenty-something black women talking to two fifty-something white guys who looked like they just came in from an evening of yachting, or from a Polo clothing photo shoot, one or the other. Seriously…They had on the Sperry Top-Siders and everything. The look screamed out “OLD MONEY!” which is probably why these women were talking to them. The sad thing is, if I tried to pull off those outfits, it would scream “CARLTON BANKS!” before it screams “OLD MONEY!”, but that’s neither here nor there.
So after awhile of watching the playoff game, the ladies came over to where we were and started talking. My initial assumption about them proved correct. They danced for the upscale strip club about two doors down the street. I say upscale because their standards are just a LITTLE different from most of the black strip clubs in the area. Upcale Clubs = More white women, WAY more silicone, less booty clapping, less tattoos, less bullet/knife/c-section scars, less stretch marks, virtually NO lap dances, less of a likelihood of getting shot leaving the place, more of a likelihood of getting thrown out on your head by a bouncer who eats a box of wheaties sprinkled with steroids for breakfast. So there are pros and cons to these places. Well, one of them decides to give me her card, and her girl’s card who dances with them. I didn’t pay the cards any mind until I got home that night.
Once I got home after both playoff games went off, I was tired. As I was taking off my clothes and getting ready to take a power nap before getting up for work, I took a look at the cards the stripper gave me. The one that I spoke to had a normal looking business card, with no pictures on it. The OTHER card, however, was phenomenal. The woman on that card had the Breasts of Life. Who cares if they are fake or not…Those shits looked IMMACULATE! INDUBIDABLE! EXTRAORDINARY! NUTRITIOUS EVEN! No bullshit, they jumped off the card as if in 3-D. Everyone who has seen this business card always ends up touching it. It never fails. Even the other side, which has her sprawled out with her ass in the air, is sexy. Instant heavy-dick is a natural side effect.
So I was home, alone, looking at this card. The unexpectedly nice visuals caused me to have a raging erection which was intensely battling the front of my boxer draws in an attempt to gain freedom from it’s constraints. I look over near my dresser, and there is some lotion up there…Then I gave in to temptation. I set the card down on my dresser, then went to work, looking at the card when I needed extra visual help for the fantasy. I figured I was alone at home and wasn’t getting any real ass that night…so I may as well let PALMela do her thing.
I felt dirty as shit afterwards, though…I’ve dry humped friends on the dance floor…Tried to get non-lesbian women to make out with each other soley for MY entertainment…even did it to a girl in the gospel choir after we returned from an out of town concert that same day…but none of these things made me feel as grimy as knowing that I beat my dick to a business card. Even if it was a stripper’s card with a ridiculous amount of nudity on it. The act in itself still felt…wrong.
I still have that card in my business card organizer. The sad thing is it’s in there with real business contacts and associates. If I ever get a secretary one day, she’s going to be like “This guy is a nasty bastard” once she sees that shit in the rolodex. If you all take it easy on the jokes, I may be willing to scan the card and e-mail it to those interested in seeing what gave me that type of wood and prompted me to self-induced skeetage.
In the meantime, here is the official ListenToLeon Swagger Scale Rating for the stripper business card:
Also to the fellas, don’t act like none of y’all ever beat your dick before! I’ll call your mommas and have them comment about finding playboys under your bed and skeet remnants on their Victoria’s Secret catalogs. As long as you don’t make it an addiction or do it to the point where your forearms are on some Popeye the Sailor shit, then there’s nothing wrong with it.
Better to do it with Palmela Handerson than with some clap diving hoe!
I wanna see the card!!
“The woman on that card had the Breasts of Life. Who cares if they are fake or not…Those shits looked IMMACULATE! INDUBIDABLE! EXTRAORDINARY! NUTRITIOUS EVEN!”
I can’t wait to see what this looks like! I hope it ain’t no G sized titties… those things scare me! LOL
ROTFLMAO.. OMG you are a hot ass mess!!! I knew you were a hornball but damn mang LMAO.. OMG.. I am still laughing.. Awwww skeet skeet skeet skeet LOL.. and err Roxy said you are cute ;)
Dude!! You clearly are shameless. No so much in the beating off to the business card but you actually told the story on the internet!!! And a funny story it is!
How much are lap dances in DC?
There should be no shame in your game, you did it with a willing…umh business card.
I want to see the card.
But to put it in the business rolodex…now that is gangsta! HA!
Holla!
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW lol i stopped reading when you said ” i beat my d— to a business card” you are nasty lol lol
…actually i am giong to keep reading though…ha.
self induced skeetage?
thats classic.
This is my favorite part: “In all fairness, let me tell you the background story.”
All I could think is, “there’s a BACKGROUND STORY??!!”
You’re a riot! =)
Classic Leon fo you Azzes!!!
My husband called and pointed me to this entry – he was in hysterics
Leon you are hilll-arious!!! I’m remaking my business card today – I sho wanna see that one when you scan it up!
I’ll have it scanned this evening hopefully @ Miss A
Mrs TJ, Queue, and anyone else interested in seeing the card once I scan it, send an e-mail to HustlemanL77@yahoo.com so I will have your e-mail addresses. @ Queue, share it with your husband, too. He’ll appreciate it.
@ Kajuana, you should know by now that I don’t embarass easily…LOL
@ Caramel, tell Roxy I am sorry for touching her tattoo of the pear wearing a thong…LOL
@ Christy, I’m glad you decided to keep reading ;)
@ Katie, I HAD to let y’all know why I did it. I would have looked like even more of a sick bastard had I not explained the motivation behind my actions…LOL
Damn dude.. you will never live this down. You know that, right? If we are ever at Ozios the jokes will come a-rainin.
I’m sending you a copy of the card, too…Then you’ll understand, my friend…LOL
Leon…You are HILARIOUS…Beatin your dick on a business card. That is NEW. I heard of beatin your dick on other things but DAMN MAN!!!!!!
I want to know one thing. Who is the girl that you slammed in the gospel choir after an out of town concert? What concert was it?Inquiring minds want to know. If your referring to HU His Chosen Sounds, then I was in the choir with you. I would LOVE to know who that chick is. If you don’t want to give name, just describe her, her year and major and what section she sang in.
HOLLA…….QT4(Class of 2001)
Yeah right…I’m not putting anybody ELSE’S business out there like that…especially since you didn’t tell me who YOU are…LOL.
But for real, blowing up MY OWN spot is one thing…putting an innocent bystander out there is just wrong…LOL.
LMAO!! You’re a fool, I’m done…done I say. Not a card though…although I must admit I’ve gotten happy feelings from way less. LOL
And I applaud you for not putting the chick’s name out there like that. *whispering* It was Kisha wasn’t it? LOL…Let me stop, I don’t know you but I know its not many black men that haven’t hit at least one Kisha.
roflmao i so wanna see the card i will be emailing tonight
Aww man! LOL I HAVE to see this card! I’ll be sending you an email tonight along with the others. *riding everybody else’s coat tails*
yo doc.
i’m familiar with that establishment you mentioned, because it led to one of the worst days at work i ever had. i went to ozio’s about 4 years back with a few friends, and the place was DEAD. the bartender therefore kept hooking us up with VSOP, and they had a guy on guitar taking requests. so, we got a little ‘besides ourselves’ drinking, and the next thing we knew, we were a few doors down at the aforementioned ‘gentlemens club’. that’s not the funny part, the funny part is the next day at work. i didn’t get home till 5, and i had to get up at 6:40 for work. anyway, i was NO good at work. the workers in the cafe were laughing at me, saying there was no way i’d eat my breakfast; they were right, i ate the breakfast around 5 that evening. also, i somehow ended up naked in a bathroom stall with a trashcan in the stall with me, and i got my money’s worth out of both the trashcan and the toilet on that day. i was in there for like 1.23 hrs. or something. if only this was a year later, i could have had a game on my cell phone to play with.
esmoore
lawd! that shyt is hilarious! Ha ha and I laughed when I realized you were talking about Camelot. Those women don’t work for their money.
….no judging on my part…my only question is does Ozio still have a bathroom attendant…when I was there I thought the joint was too small for all of that.
Hey I masturbate to all sorts of things all the time it is ok……just release! and be free.
There’s no limit to your deviance.