Oh yes, it’s ladies night…

After writing about The Bachelor Australia last week and making a statement along the lines of ‘how boring would a party with 24 women and one hot man be?’ I must stand corrected – some what.

This past weekend, I partook in the long standing Australian tradition of a football club ladies night, an evening in which standards and class go flying out the door and are quickly replaced with heaving lust and ear piercing squeals of excitement…
Now I must admit, this certainly isn’t my first foray into this time honored affair – nor my second or third – I believe I have been attending this annual affair at the local club for around 6 years now – but don’t tell anyone!

So it’s not quiet like the bachelor – the women in the room aren’t playing for love – we’ll I’d hope not, when they’re there to see paid strippers, and be waited on hand and foot by young football players – most of whom are young enough to be the guests sons! That’s not to say it’s exclusively and event for the ‘young at heart’ but damn, these women, most my mothers age sure do like them some strippers!

So onto what you all want to hear about – the strippers. The crowd went nuts for the…nuts. There wasn’t a whole lot to see though – a quick flash here, a sneaky reveal and a hell of a lot of showmanship. Were we disappointed? Hell no. These men were ripped and they were dancing for us – because we had paid them to. The room of around 100 somewhat drunk women were on the edge of their seats waiting for the extra reveal and giggling with their girls. Magic Mike does not do this experience justice.

If you are yet to see a male strip show, I suggest you get your ladies together and go forth and conquer this world of tack and ridiculousness. Why? Because men go to see strippers all the time. Yes, women tackle the experience in a whole other way and generally it’s a lot more tongue in cheek than a serious man perv. Sure it’s not bad having a little look see at what I might be missing out on but hey they call it ladies night for a reason – it’s because you’re getting out with all your ladies and letting loose – let’s hope not too literally…

The waiters may have been there trying to pick up – hell, as we left for the night, one of my lady pals was asked for her number and from what I can gather she made a good choice in handing it over – a much better choice than her past forays into the world of tinder, but that’s another story for another time…

Should I be talking about this? After all, the old saying goes ‘what happens at ladies night, stays at ladies night’ but to hell with that – if I wanna tell you how awesome it was seeing male strippers, I’ll damned well tell you. And I’m not ashamed, not one bit and hell, even though I did blush, once or twice.

I have no shame, not even an ounce.
I have no shame, not even an ounce.
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