I'm at the Urge lounge; it's after 3 and it's way past my bedtime--but hey, it's Tuesday: the best night of the week. Plus my friends are here. We've got Bam Bam, Anita Private, Paul, another Paul, and Harrison.
Oh, and a big beefy latin go-go squatting down on the bar in front of us.
The full pouch of his g-string is the size and shape of a jumbo size can of Aqua Net. Bam Bam and Harrison are putting dollars in it, and want to see if it's real. He whips out the dick, and sure enough it is real. But Bam Bam is not impressed.
"It's a Walmart cock," he says. "Not a Gucci cock."
Bam Bam is free-associating because he's drunk. He loudly explains that a Walmart cock is all about bulk, whereas a Gucci cock is about expert craftmanship.
What-evah. The go-go doesn't really care what he has to say. He's still getting dollars in his g-string. Then my friend Paul walks over with a handful of coins.
Paul holds the handful of coins up to the go-go's g-string.
"Do you take change?" he deadpans.
Walmart cock went away.
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