[The Dumpster]

I just got back from a two-day trip to Atlanta, Georgia, involving a court case in front of "Judge Crater." On the night between days one and two of the hearing, I decided to have supper with my cousin, "Dick," who is a somewhat marginal lawyer in that city. We met at Trader Vic's in the downtown Hilton, which has been one of my favorite restaurants for many years. We had a pleasant dinner, and Dick listened with much sympathy to my current troubles with my girlfriend, the colonically challenged Miss Hermione, which are known to my PR cronies.

When we were finished, Dick said, "you will feel better if we went to my club for a while." Now, Dumpster, having led a somewhat sheltered life, had visions of cognac and cigars in leather armchairs by a fireplace at the Capitol City Club or the Commerce Club, which are the kinds of "clubs" Dumpster frequents.

Dumpster was in for a rude surprise. We drove and drove out past I-285 to someplace in North Atlanta, and pulled into a crowded parking lot in front of a large, brightly-lit building. I didn't notice the name on the place, but I thought, "funny, this doesn't look like any 'club' I've ever seen."

No shit, Sherlock. There was a line to get in, and they were all men. Many were well-dressed, though, so Dumpster was still uncertain about this. However, the presence of a bouncer plus the sounds of loud music from inside finally woke me up to the fact that this was some kind of a "nightclub." (I know, I know--Dumpster isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, etc., etc.)

Having never been in a nightclub, I figured what the heck. (Also we were in Dick's car so I was sorta stuck anyway.) Dick was clearly a regular there, because we bypassed the line and the bouncers, and went to what was evidently his usual table.

It soon dawned on your Dumpster why there were only men in line. All the waitresses were naked! In fact, all the women in the fucking place were naked! There were naked women dancing on a stage, naked women dancing in cages high above the floor, naked women behind the bar, naked women dancing on people's tables, and even naked women doing, ah, intimate things to each other, all for the pleasure of the male clientele. Most of them were even reasonably attractive (I mean the WOMEN, TBW!).

Dick even managed to produce the brandy and cigars, which did a little, just a little, to ease the shock to Dumpster's system. The music was too loud, but the place was reasonably clean, and many of the patrons were well-dressed, professional looking types.

Dumpster's momentary equilibrium was shattered, however, by the arrival in my lap of a naked child who looked to be all of about 20, and weighed about 100 pounds, about half of which consisted of the silicone in her tits. It is accurate to state that this individual proceeded with a substantial invasion of Dumpster's personal space.

As she writhed, she asked me my name. Clearly the polite thing to do here was to make conversation. "Dumpster," I said. "Ah, what's yours?"

"Cinnamon," she responded breathily, gyrating her labia perilously close to Dumpster's, er, lap.

"Oh?" responded this consummate conversationalist. "Cinnamon who?"

"Cinnamon Buns." I shoulda known. Probably a stage name?

"Cinnamon," queried the Dumpster, as her erect nipples lightly brushed themselves against my chin, "does your Mother know what you are doing?" Jeez, if Hermione knew what I was doing!

"Fuck, yeah!" came the response. "She works in here three nights a week herself!" A lovely family, I'm sure.

(I should note at this point that Dick and a lot of the regulars had gathered to observe and were laughing their asses off at the sight of this out-of-town yokel losing what last vestige of innocence he possessed. Also, apparently Cinnamon was engaging in rather more "contact" than club policy permitted, but all in good, clean fun, I suppose.)

"Cinnamon," gasped Dumpster, whose own breathing was getting a little heavy. "Do you enjoy this, or is it something you have to do?"

"Man, I love it! It makes me feel good to see guys looking at me, and the money's great!" Ah, the joys of free enterprise!

"Well, you are certainly an attractive young lady," responded Dumpster, who was rapidly running out of conversation.

"Ooh, Dumpster. You're so cute!" murmered the demure Miss Buns, pressing her ... self firmly against my... (Dick was still laughing his head off). "I'm really not supposed to, but can I kiss you?"

No sooner said than acted upon, her red, pouty lips (I mean the ones on her FACE, Bunga!) headed for mine. What happened next is kind of a blur. Somehow the idea of communicable diseases flashed into my mind, and at the last second I turned and presented her with my cheek (the one on MY face, AB2K!). As I did, who should I behold out of the corner of my eye but--you guessed it--JUDGE CRATER!!

Now, there are three immutable religious truths:

1. Jews do not recognize Jesus as the Son of God.

2. Protestants do not recognize the Pope as the Vicar of Christ.

3. Baptists do not recognize each other in the liquor store.

I am a devout Methodist, and I don't know what Judge Crater's persuasion is, but something of this Baptist dogma came into play between us in that moment. Thankfully, Cinnamon's meter ran out (I assume Cousin Dick tipped her, because I never gave her anything. I hope she didn't give ME anything, either, Sam!). Thus, Dumpster didn't have to live up to his name and dump her to the floor. I immediately set a vector for the exit which would keep my back to the good Judge the entire way, dragging a protesting Dick (I mean my COUSIN Dick, TSV!) with me.

I cussed Dick out all the way back to the hotel. But at the conclusion of the hearing the next day, Judge Crater, with an imperceptible wink, granted my motion.

I should also note that, when I got home last night, there was a somewhat encouraging email from Hermione, whose sexiness eclipses that of Miss Buns by about the same degree that Anna Nicole Smith's eclipses Roseanne Barr's. I imagine I'll be talking to Hermione by this weekend, but I believe I should keep the details of Dumpster's brief walk on the wild side between me, Dick, Judge Crater, and my friends on PR. Di and Daph, what is YOUR advice?

[Poop Shooter]

however, by the arrival in my lap of a naked child who looked to be all of about 20, and weighed about 100 pounds, about half of which consisted of the silicone in her tits.

Dumpster..... I'm laughing my ass off. Although you sound like you were embarressed as hell, I can picture you writhing while Cinnamon is giving you a lap dance.

It's one thing to go into a tittie bar looking for some skin action, but another when your not expecting it.

Sometimes you need to take a little walk on the wild side to get humbled about the "un-wild-side" at home. It makes you appreciate what you already have or don't have.

And ya never know, maybe seeing Judge Crater in there halped win your motion in court!!!!

[The Shit Volcano]

Being that I used to be Baptist, that comment absolutely hilarious! I remember making a similar comment just before I got kicked out of the church... After seeing the youth pastor enter a nudey bar.

This is like something out of one of those lawyer movies (well, the ones starring Tim Allen or Jim Carey). Dumpster- The Movie!

You know me too well, Dumpy. I was going to make a dick comment.

[Bunga Din]

Dumpster, fantastic story we need more like this. I think even the fine ladies here would enjoy this because it was written with humour and grace.

While I am far from being a frequenter of such establishments I have seen some outrageously funny incidents at strip joints. This one goes back about 20 years ago.

There was a seedy strip club in the downtown area of Guelph Ontario called "The Chooch", it was a pretty skanky place but for a strip club it offered cheap beer and something to keep your eyes on.

A few friends and I ended up here on a Thursday night just before closing time, we each ordered a couple of drinks and sat down to watch the "feature performer" finish up for the night.

Like most clubs at this time the girls "danced" to 3 songs, the first tune would see them remove their top, the second their bottom and the third would be described as the floor show where she 's writhing around offering the patrons on perv row a up close and personal view of her genitalia.

This particular dancer was quite a bit different, she actually had an act that consisted of military themes. She came out in fatigues and did marching and other such stuff, it was actually quite good, her phoney rifle had a large sex toy mounted on the barrel and she'd do some funny things with it, nothing x-rated, just suggestive.

We were laughing and enjoying her act and between songs gave her a resounding round of applause. Before her third song she came over and put a remote controlled tank on the stage and mounted on the tank barrel was a massive 12" pink dildo, and gave the remote control to one of my friends and said "try to get me with it".

To properly understand the situation, perv row are the seats directly at the foot of the stage, the stage was a little less than head height and there is a small rail underneath the stage where you can set you drink or pitcher of beer.

She started the floor routine completely nude on all fours tempting my buddy to learn how to manuever the remote controlled tank to make it's attack, it was very funny because he'd bang into the pole and other obstacles and just the site of a remote controlled penis on a tank is hilarious.

So after about two minutes my friend is getting much better at controlling the tank and he decides to set it up and pretend he doesn't have a good grasp of the contols. She's on all fours on the other side of the stage in front of some old farmer with a full pitcher of beer in front of him. she's pushing her tits in his face and my friend slams down the throttle on the tank and it races off centered perfectly for an invasion, just before contact is made she lifts her body and the tank goes under her and knocks the pitcher of beer all over this guy and the dildo hits him right in the eye.

The poor guy falls off his chair and is holding his eye and everyones else is dying laughing except the dancer who got down to see if the guy was OK. The bouncer came over and helped the guy up but everyone was still dying of laughter. He was lead over to the bar where they had better lighting to see if he was OK.

The dancer didn't finish the song out of respect for the guy that took the dildo shot to the head, my buddy after about 10 more minutes of tearfull laughing went over and apologized to the guy who got hit, but from that moment on I could never go in to a strip joint and think I would see anything better.

[The Shit Volcano]

Oh, my God! That's hilarious!

I'm serious, guys! We need to put these scenes in some raunchy comedy movie!

That's a whole new definition for the claw game. Did you win something if you hit the target?

[The Dumpster]

How about "Gypsy Rose Volcano"? The plot could be that TSV has disappeared, leaving behind only a note that she was going to work as a stripper in some big city, say L.A. Bunga and Dumpster set out to find her, but to do so they must visit every titty bar in the city. Is she found? Who do they meet along the way? What kind of big-city adventures await these two intrepid PoopReport pals?

Bunga, I loved your story. I was so afraid something like what happened to the farmer was going to befall me.

[AssBlaster2000]

Dumpster, your story made me laugh my ass off. Picturing you losing your innocence to these giant tits was just too much, especially given that her name was Cinnamon Buns. That's great. The part about the judge coming in was just the icing on the cake.

When I started reading the story I totally thought Dick was going to take you to a gay bar, and some dude would come up to you and say "I've got something to put in you" and then ask "Do you have any money?" This was way better, though.

And Bunga, why the fuck do all your stories involve dildos? What the hell. I have a 12" pink dildo and there is also a remote control car somewhere in this house. I may have to put them together now. I'll probably just end up chasing the cats with it though.

[The Dumpster]

Get yourself a little pussy, huh, AB?

[Bunga Din]

AB2K wrote:

The former was tempting, as I knew I would go immediately home and write a poop report about it, instead of forgetting about it for two years, but it was about nine fucking degrees outside; so visions of colonoscopies and twelve-inch dildos ran through my head for the rest of the trip home.

I think someone doth protest too much! My comment regarding the dildoage was in relation to an act witnessed in "The Chooch" a strip joint in Guelph, Ontario Canada. I think the context od said dildoage was relevant to my peeler bar story.

Maybe you can enlighten us on why you had these visions of colonoscopies and dildos.

What is this post about?!
I don't understand this post at all.

[AssBlaster2000]

So, Bunga, you're taking the Gwisdalian way out, trying to throw people off the track of your own dildo obsession by trying to point out a time that I referenced a dildo. I see how it is.

As far as that story, I was just trying to think of things that I wouldn't want in my butt. I suppose I could have said "taper candles" or "wine bottles" or "broom handles" or "the large cucumber Bunga puts in his pants when he goes to the supermarket" but I thought a huge dildo would be more effective. See, bringing up the image of a dildo is different than actual dildo experience.

Dear Bunga Din,

I am interested in knowing what kind of dildo you prefer to use. Do you like the model made out of the realistic gel or the plastic kind? I prefer the vibrating model with the balls at the end. This is an honest and truthful statement. I am a non-judgemental person, but I am very slightly mentally disabled.

Sincerely,
AssBlaster2000

[skidmark]

I just KNEW that right after you said there were nothing but men in line at the door, you were going to go into "I soon realized that Dick had brought me to a gay bar."


DAMN!

[Di Uhreea]

If Dumpster HAD gone to a gay bay, he'd wanna spend all your money.

As for advice Dumpster, I'm not sure.
What were you & Hermione fighting about?
If it was nothing to do with being disloyal, then I'd tell her about the fun bar trip.
She has a good sense of humor, right?
If you didn't tell her and she found out about it later, she might be mad.
I don't know.

My favorite part of the story was this:

"Ooh, Dumpster. You're so cute!" murmered the demure Miss Buns, pressing her ... self firmly against my... (Dick was still laughing his head off). "I'm really not supposed to, but can I kiss you?"

But the whole story was brilliant.
Thanks for sharing and I hope you have more experiences like this to share with us.

[AssBlaster2000]

If Dumpster HAD gone to a gay bay, he'd wanna spend all your money.

The gay bay? Is that near San Francisco?

Don't start a nuclear war because I'm teasing your post, Di.

[The Amazing Anus]

Absolutly hilarious! well worded too. I wish I knew of bars like that! woah!

[Bunga Din]

AB2K wrote:

I am interested in knowing what kind of dildo you prefer to use. Do you like the model made out of the realistic gel or the plastic kind? I prefer the vibrating model with the balls at the end. This is an honest and truthful statement.

For the record I own no dildo's. I have had a few lady friends who have enjoyed using them in my presence while I have been engaged in oral stimulation of "the man in the boat". Dildo's made from that jelly like substance are not hygenic so it's always been either rubber or hard plastic.

Now maybe you could inform us what type of 12" monster you use?