I will cristen this blog like any good jew should christen
something... by talking about the strip club I went to last night.

So if you do a little math, you'll notice that yesterday was the cinco
de mayo. To celly-brate, some friends and I gathered at the Sunset Cantina on Comm Ave and ordered flights of tequila. We concluded that tequila is tequila... and that we were drunk.

After a very homoerotic dessert (chocolate fondue, three forks), we
proceeded to my neck of the woods- Malden- to go to a strip club that
I have been intrigued by for my two years of Malden residency but hadn't
found a reason to go to. Helloooo, the Squire. We were
goaded into going by a strip club connoisseur (am I allowed to use real
names on a blog?), who claimed that if it weren't already 11:45 there
were better options but the Squire would have to do. Anyhow...
I've never been to a strip club with a metal detector in the
entrance. In fact, the only times I have been through a metal
detector is at airports and maybe when I was visiting important
buildings in Washington, DC. I was pretty sure that our
waittress started out as a dancer there 30 years ago to fuel her high
school crack habit. Needless to say, this was a classy
establishment.

I agreed w/ mr. connoisseur- the Foxy Lady in Providence is a far
better club- but I'm glad I finally can check off The Squire on my
things-to-do-before-i-get-the-hell-out-of-malden-forever-and-never-admit-to-having-lived-there-ever-again
list. And now I can type no more. I'm wicked hungover.