Friday, December 03, 2004

Connections II

Whoo-hoo! Two whole posts in one week! (Whoa! Slow down there, Shakespeare, ya might throw a shoe... -Ed.)

Just after Bush’s re-election, dissatisfied Democranks (as if there is any other kind) were threatening to move to Canada. After all, history proves that unhappy ‘Mericans make happy Canadians.

True to form, a record bunch of asstards did make noises about moving north. How many did is difficult to say. But one thing Knuckles want to know, are they the ones displacing the much-needed Romanian immigrunts?

’Cause when Knuckles takes, um, clients to the gentleman’s club, he doesn’t want to see some hollow-chested, pony-tailed activist wrapping boney legs around the brass pole. And those are the guys. The women just walk out on stage wearing their Vassar rugby shirts and yell at you.

Oh sure, they’ll take your money for a lapdance. But as soon as you get a boner they screech about sexual harrassment and then call your wife.

Here’s an indisputable fact of life: Lefties make shitty strippers. It’s so painfully obvious but you don’t really think about it until an ex-librarian steps out of her mammoth poly-cotton panties.

Worse, it’s clear that they are now taking the peeler jobs away from people who know how to do it right.

It’s high time the world’s longest undefended border became a no-man’s land for disgruntled Berkley professors who end up working the Canadian sex trade. Hey, it could be the site for the next Boomer Shoot. Except they’ll be shooting fleeing Boomers.

You’d think that the people who honored the quickie pee-pee handiwork of Monica Lewinsky would know how to behave in the privacy of a strip club sofa.

You’d think that a broad who worships Bill would have respect for a bill-waving customer.

You’d think that a radical co-ed who promised sex to strangers for voting for a losing candidate wouldn’t mind offering a happy ending after a frottage massage.

You’d think that. But you’d be absofuckinglutely wrong.

For the love of all that’s holy, keep the hysterical Marxists in America where they can do less harm.

(link via The Corner)


Circa Bellum said...

Yeah, well I seen 'em north and south. Can't remember any Romanian ones though. Don't marry any of them! They don't stay all cute and stuff. Look at Olga Korbutt. Though I have to admit that Olga can probably still twist herself up into a pretzel and the idea of that kind of turns me on. But I digress...

For your money, you can't do any better than southern girls. Come on down here and we'll go to Platinum Plus in Memphis. THAT'S entertainment!

The bare Knuckles of truth said...

One reason why so many Romanians came to Canada was that the canuck strippers all left for the big bucks of Manhattan, Tokyo, and, yes, Memphis.

That lapdancer with the the lilting voice could be some touque-wearing Zamboni-driver's ex from Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan.

Thanks for the invite though. Knuckles remembers a fond Christmas Eve in 1986 spent in a Memphis Days Inn courtesy of Northwest Airlines. The busty brunette bartender stayed open as long as we drank...