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Head for the round house, Nelly. He can't corn-hole you there.

All seriousness aside, apart from the bruises common to the inside of both lower legs just above the ankles, due to feeble attempts to grip the chair and hang on for dear life whist the lap dance progresses into the full bull-riding monty, I'd recommend making every attempt to marry that girl despite objections from your parents, your priest and the local town degenerates who have figured out that her services will no longer be publicly available.

High back dining room chair work best, but padding around the legs is recommended.

Thank you,
Your card carrying degenerate and literary friend,
(PM)

I consider Florida the lap-dancing capital of the world. When visiting a friend for a three day golf outing, he noticed I had near terminal chingas (shakes) on the putting green the first day. Afterwards, over a couple of gin and tonics, he suggested a cure that he f..king guaranteed would work to calm my nerves.

Just a couple of miles from the course we stopped at a nondescript, roadside pavillion with a parking lot full of big-wheeled pickups and a few luxury sedans. With little ceremony we stepped into the joint through a heavy curtain, and to my surprise, we were immediately surrounded by a bevy of totally nude nymphet sparrows of different colors and creeds; all claiming to have the cure for my nervous disorder. One, who was pigmented considerably darker than myself and who also out-weighed me by a stone or so, was so insistent that I take her up on her cure that I finally slipped her a twenty, just to get rid of her.

For some reason she got pissed, possibly because she thought me a racist for not choosing her over a blond that was more my type. Anyway, she threw the twenty back at me and told me to stuff it where the sun don't shine. That was easy, her not having any clothes on. The next thing you know, the bouncer was in my face and all hell broke loose. My old Navy buddy, Nick the Greek, a man of some connections in the underworld, didn't take shit from nobody. Bedlam! All I could see was assholes and elbows flying through the air with a few boobs also in the mix.

Somehow, we got the hell out of there somewhat intact. Next day, I made everything inside 8 feet. My buddy was right. He fixed my chingas....True story!