The State of Nebraska, "Razzle Dazzle" Strip Club, & My Visit to Arby’s

I’ve been in the state of Nebraska for less than 24 hours and quite honestly I’m speechless. And when I say Nebraska I’m also including Council Bluffs, Iowa because they are the same people with just an added flare of white trash. I arrived last night in Council Bluffs to stay with a good friend whom I used to teach with in Las Vegas. When I arrived at his house the white trash family across the street was gathered on their front porch of their barn looking home. Black people get a bad rap for hanging out on the porch, but white trash people do the exact same thing. Anyway, my buddy was claiming the one chick was bangable, than again this guy will fuck anything with a pulse and opposable thumbs. So, I put down my things and we headed into downtown Omaha. As usual we were trying to keep the night tame, but I knew that wouldn’t happen because we were meeting up with some of my good college friends. After dinner and some booze we decided to venture into the night and pathetically bar hopped all over Omaha. Seeing that the night didn’t have much to offer we all agreed to go back to Council Bluffs to the famed “Razzle Dazzle” strip club.

Where the fuck to I begin? There is nothing razzle or dazzle about this place. The first sign of it possibly being the worst strip club in the universe (and I’ve been to lots of shitty strip clubs) was the no cover charge. Every strip club in the history of mankind will have a cover charge, but the Razzle Dazzle is such a cold sore and the girls are so ridiculously ugly they don’t even attempt to take money at the door. So, we go inside and this was the smallest strip club I’ve ever seen . There is one stage in the middle and maybe 30-35 seats in the entire place. So, we grab seats at the bar and I instantly noticed that it was full of nothing but white people. The ironic part was the fact that numerous strippers were black and the old white men greatly enjoyed shoving their faces in their STD ridden crotches. I find it ironic because these are the same men that probably yell “nigger” every time they are cut off by a black driver. Anyway, my drunk friend quickly befriended one of the strippers at the bar. To his credit, she was definitely the best looking girl at the club, but that’s like saying you’re fastest retard at the Special Olympics. She introduced herself to all of us as “Shadow.” So I responded, “Oh, like the shadow boxes you made in grade school?” She had no clue what the hell I was talking about and than she barfed herpes on my face. Actually, my friend was intent on banging her and “not paying for it” as he claimed to me.

While he was putting the moves on Shadow I watched in horror at the beer gutted dancers, all of whom had tramp stamps. The fact that these girls were paid strippers would be like me getting paid to play in the NFL. Not only did they not have any right to be getting naked and shaking their fat asses in public, but they should be locked in a cage in someone’s basement like that dude from Pulp Fiction. The most disturbing dancer had a large beer belly with an obvious C-section scar on her stomach. As I sipped my Jim Beam and coke I could only watch in horror as countless men placed bills in her thong and let her thrust her roast beef snatch in their faces. Shortly after Shadow was on stage and she was definitely the hit sensation of the club. My friend became jealous, which was pretty funny and I could only watch and laugh because he was getting jealous over some slutty stripper he just met. After the dance and pelvic thrusts Shadow rejoined my friend and they exchanged numbers on a napkin, taking it back to 1988 when cell phones didn’t exist. He is intent on banging Shadow, which also means he must be intent on contracting the Chlamydia, because they are one in the same.

Lunch at Arby’s Today

Today I ventured into the local Council Bluffs Arby’s for lunch. The placed literally felt like a nursing home. It was nothing but old people everywhere. When I say old I’m talking witnessed the Civil War old. The old man in front of me was using a gift card to pay for his extra value meal. I want to know who gave him an Arby’s gift card for his birthday? That could quite possibly be the worst gift anyone could receive minus the $10 dollar gift card my Aunt gave me one year to Staples (true story). The funniest part was that the card wouldn’t process, so he was arguing with the cashier about the stupid thing. She in turn had to get the manager who still couldn’t get the card to work. He was pissed and refused to use his own money and literally threatened to go McDonald’s and give them his money. Meanwhile the morbidly obese people behind me in line were drooling at the mouth and ready to go postal because they had to wait five extra minutes before they could shove their sausage link fingers into some Arby’s Beef N’ Cheddars. Because of this disaster I decided to eat at the restaurant and watch more fat people. Also, the girl working the cash register was fuckable, even though she worked as an Arby’s cash register in Council Bluffs, Iowa. I would be willing to overlook her job title after a few beers and Jaeger Bombs. Who am I kidding? I would probably bang her in the bathroom, while some geriatric was shitting himself in the nearby bathroom stall. Anyway, while I sat and ate the table across from me was literally on a date. The chick worked at Arby’s and had her uniform on, so she was either on break or finished with her shift. The guy was some redneck and they literally seemed like they were on a first date. I eaves dropped and overheard their length discussion about alcohol shot preference. Nothing says first date like some Arby’s curly fries and a discussion about Jaeger bombs. So, that’s my first 12 hours in Omaha/Council Bluffs. I look forward to downtown Omaha tonight and tomorrow’s show at University of Nebraska. You know what they say, “What happens in Omaha probably involves gravy, corn, and a fat chick.”

Sigma Nu @ Kansas University, 5 day Bender & NFL Gambling

I'm finally sober enough to type a new blog. The previous 5 days have been a drunken disaster of epic proportions. Starting with our show on Wednesday, September 8 thru yesterday's NFL games, I've been a tear of partying and placing my liver thru a distugsting obstacle race of various types of liquor. Anyway, I first want to thank the men of Sigma Nu @ Kansas University for a great time of fun and debauchery. I also want to thank the Delta Gamma ladies for being hot and making me feel like a creepy old man. I've never felt old in my life untill Friday's show. Many of the Delta Gamma ladies were about 2 weeks into their Freshman year of college. In other words they are only about 5 months removed from high school graduation. 10 years isn't that big of an age difference, but when you're 18 it makes me feel like a man on "To Catch" a Predator." Numerous girls called me old and commented that I was "hot for an old man." It's amazing that they think 28 is old. I just couldn't allow myself to bang one of these girls. Sure they were hot, but 18 is just a kid. Not to mention, I wasn't drunk enough, if I had about 5 more beers I would have no moral conscience.
So, I went to the bar with the sorority girls and my craigslist hired promo model who got ridiculously drunk. She was so drunk she puked at the frat house and then told us the following:

1) I have IUD birth control so you can totally cum all up inside me and I can't get pregnant.
2) I'm recovering from a recent bout of the clap (chlamydia)
3) I've had multiple 3 somes and enjoy eating pussy

What can I say, but I only hire the classiest girls for my shows. Anway, we all listened in amazement as she told us vivid stories of birth control, 3 somes, and contracting the clap. Telling a guy " you can cum up inside me" and follwing it with a story about contracting an STD is not cool. You just get a man all excited for some unprotecting sex and than crush his hopes with thoughts of burning urine. Anyway, I awoke early Saturday morning and headed back to St. Louis to meet back up with my best friend and college fraternity friend. Our supposed low key night turned into a 7 hour drinking affair capped by an adverted DUI. Somehow my friend got out of a DUI by claiming he was just driving his drunk from California home (i.e. my drunk ass). It worked and yesterday I awoke and continued my drunken rage while wathcing the first week of NFL games. The only thing I love more than the NFL is gambling on the NFL. It has literally changed my life and turned me into a de-generate. The highs/lows that come with gambling on the NFL is a sick roller coaster ride. Toss in alcohol and you have a long Sunday of partying and yelling at the television. Anyway, I'm finally coherent today and it feels good to not wake up with hang over. I'll savor these few days because this weekend will be another shit show.

Theta Chi @ Ball State and St.Louis

So, I've been partying hard for the past 30 hours and I'm trying to remember shit, but I'm drawing a blank. First and foremost I want to thank the men of Theta Chi of Ball State University for a great night. These guys bought me so many shots I can't even remember. So, we performed the show and went to Dill Street Bar and it was lights out! The last thing I remember was being on the dance floor and pissing off chicks because my dance moves are unstoppable. I awake in my lovely Days Inn and it looked like Hurricane Katrina, minus all the dead black people.
So tonight I made my way back to St.Louis and it was another glorious night. My friends and I met some Washington University Law Student Girls who affirmed all my feelings about females. As usual I broke the ice with a roofies joke, which was not well received. But as usual I found my place with what I pereceived was a young Jewish girl, since Jews love me and any potential to make money. (naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah) Anyway, these girls were a waste of time so I continued to slam shots with friends. So, here is the moral of the story. I'm drunk and buzzing off tobacco from a dip. Yes it makes no sense, but either do condoms or law school chicks, unless they yell "objection" when you stick it in their ass. Anyway, the point is I'm rocking Sigma Nu tomorrow and will totally bang a sorority whore. I rule and my farts smell like an extinct dinosaur!

Word - Ruther

First Week and First Show of "Walk of Shame Tour"

I woke up on Tuesday feeling like dog shit. I had a sore throat, bad cough, congested nasal cavity, no energy, and a touch of AIDS. Only I would get sick 2 days before our first show. I’m sure there are numerous reasons why I quickly became so ill: A 45 hour car ride across the country with minimal sleep, followed by an all-night party at the Corn Roast. Or maybe the hooker I bought at exit 162 in Amarillo, Texas was lying when she claimed she gets tested religiously for diseases. Either way I was sick all week, but of course I had to gather my inner Michael Jordan, like when he played against Portland in the 1992 Finals and had a career first half with a 103 degree fever. No, I’m not comparing myself to Michael Jordan, because I will leave a much greater mark on this earth than Jordan. Anyway, I mustered my strength for last night’s show for the men of Delta Sigma Phi @ Purdue University.
Myself, Chicago comedians Ryan Budds and Anthony Sarfino performed for a very dry Rush event at Purdue University. Like most Rush events the audience was 90% dudes. And like most Rush events there was absolutely no booze. I don’t mind performing sober shows, because most shows are followed by after parties. However my fellow Delta Sigma Phi brothers at Purdue are currently on social probation. The reason they are on probation is absolutely hilarious. Apparently last semester one of their former fraternity brothers was blacked out drunk and went down on a girl who was passed out. Making matters worse was the fact that another one of their fraternity brothers took a picture of this utterly disturbing scenario and then sent out the pic to the entire fraternity. Of course the pic was leaked, hence the social probation. It baffles my mind that anyone would enjoy eating some passed out Vag, than again I would blow a man for 10 White Castle burgers when I’m drunk, so who am I to judge? What was even more disturbing was the fact that the guy who took the pic of this drunken debacle had his little brothers rushing the same fraternity. He was a Rushee in the audience and wore a creepy shirt about LSD and sex, so clearly sexual perversion runs in the family.
Anyway, that was the main highlight of the show. There was no after party or any ridiculous stories from the first show. However I’m quite sure the Travelodge where I stayed was run by an Indian serial killer. The place was creepy as hell and it felt like a ghost town, which was really messing with my mind when I attempting a post-show whack off session in the hotel room. Not to mention I probably now have bed bugs, lice and a curry smell on all my clothes. Either way I made it home today and will be back on the road next week with shows @ Ball State and Kansas University. I’m sure the retarded drunken stories will begin next week and I just hope that I don’t decide to go muff diving on someone who can’t breathe like my Delta Sig friends at Purdue.