current entry older entries message board contact
7:28 a.m. - 2004-05-07

STUD FOR HIRE

It's not too often that I go on record here about what a colossal stud I am.

But I am one smooth colossal stud.

Last night we had Karaoke night at the club. It was going pretty smooth ... had an endless supply of people wanting to sing so I was concentrating solely on them and trying to whittle down the requests for karaoke.

It didn't hurt that we were playing Kamakaze Karaoke where if the singer let me pick the song, they got a free drink. I had burly Air Force men singing off key to songs like "Dancing Queen" and "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" while I coaxed them into doing dance moves during the instrumental parts while their buddies howled with laughter.

Anyway ... after about two straight hours of Karaoke, a FINE little woman came up to the DJ booth and said "Are we doing Karaoke all night or are you going to be playing dance music?"

I'm no dummy. In a bar scene, you take care of the women first. The drunken burly Air Force guys second.

So I got on the microphone and announced that a "beautiful woman" wanted something she could dance to, so I had to take care of her and we'd come back to the Karaoke in a bit.

And the dance floor was PACKED.

This is sorta new to me, because the other club that I've been DJing in for the last three months just doesn't attract the kind of crowds that want to dance all night.

This new club does.

So they're all out there, shaking like a Salt Shaker, shaking like a Polaroid Picture, shaking like an epileptic on a roller coaster ... whatever.

And the beautiful woman leaves her partner on the dance floor and comes back up to the DJ booth.

"Come dance with me," she said, pulling my hand towards the dance floor.

"I would, sweetie, but I'm busy," I said, gesturing towards the sound system.

She gave me a pouting look.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked, in kind of a drunken slur while trying to poke her chest out as far as it would go.

*cough*

I am a happily married man. If it weren't for my wife and my child, I would have nothing. I would be nothing. I'm so aware of this I should have it printed on a t-shirt.

...But if I were single, I feel confident that I would have been in a tight lip lock with this beauty queen into the wee hours of the morning.

"Yes, you're beautiful," I answered. "Now go dance like you wanted."

She smiled a devilish smile and went back to the dance floor to dance with a group of friends.

I know it's just the job. Women seem to dig guys that know a thing or two about music, even if it's just knowing what to play to make them dance.

But I married a woman 16 years ago that was attracted to me because I was a DJ.

And she's stayed with me when I was a vacuum cleaner salesman, a telemarketer and an unemployed loser.

That's true love, kids.

And don't think for a second that I don't know the difference.


But still ... man ... I woulda porked the shit out of that chick if I had the chance.


Heh.


Hey ... Boston Rob ... you are an asshole of major proportions.


I still can't believe that on the series finale of "Friends" the writers had them all contract leprosy and die quick and painful deaths.

What a unique way to say goodbye.


Q: How many Iraqis does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

A: One. But you have to put a hood over his head, shove the lightbulb up his ass with a broomstick and take photos of him first.


Speaking of which, if I had the intelligence to do such a thing, I'd gather all these recent photos of the torture going on in Iraq and make a video montage of them all while Lee Greenwood's "God Bless The USA" played in the background with its thundering chorus of "And I'm proud to be an Americaaan, where at least I know I'm freeeee".

You know.

Strictly for ironic purposes.


I have to DJ a mixer this afternoon and then DJ in the club tonight.

Can I just say that I am SO HAPPY to be a DJ again?

Not just because of the beautiful chicks wanting my old fat ass to sex 'em up something good.

But because it's something I'm good at and I'm able to spread joy through my job.

Heh.

That makes it sound like I'm a children's doctor who dresses up like a happy clown.

But every night, at least one person says that I'm the best DJ they've ever heard.

Usually that one person is myself.

But still.

15 comments so far
The last one/The next one


NEW!!!Come and write some BAD EROTICA with the cool kids!

My Diaryland Trading Card
Now go write a Suck Ass Poem�
Write me a note here.
Read my notes here.
Hey! Take the Uncle Bob Quiz!
What the hell! May as well take the wildly popular Uncle Bob Second Quiz too!
Thanks Diaryland
Designed by Lisa


CURRENT - ARCHIVES - MESSAGES - EMAIL


Have you read these?

The End Of Uncle Bob - 12:28 p.m. , 2009-02-19

Losing Focus While Trying To Write A Blog Entry Is Cool. - 1:47 p.m. , 2008-12-04

Buck Up Junior, You Could Be Digging Ditches - 11:36 p.m. , 2008-10-31

That Sinking Feeling - 6:09 a.m. , 2008-10-28

Return Of The Karate Kid And His Slow Kitty-Lovin' Accomplice - 5:44 a.m. , 2008-10-22

Sign up for my Notify List and get email when I update!

email:
powered by
NotifyList.com

HEY YOU!
Click on the button below to order the book "Never Threaten To Eat Your Co-Workers: Best of Blogs" featuring Uncle Bob.
You WON'T be sorry.

DISCLAIMER


Read a random entry of mine.