I feel sorry for these girls. I come into the club and all I want to do is hold them and tell them they are beautiful, and that all the Meth in Polk County will never replace the hole that man left in their hearts, even though I'm really thinking... I will stroke your heart! I don't care if there are large breasts in the way, I will stroke every bit of your heart! And I won't stop until it is all stroked!

Last night, Tucker came home from an Accenture Young Executives Happy Hour all fired up. He had that "I have been partying with nerds and I need to destroy something NOW!" look. We decided to go to Heavenly Bodies, the kinder-gentler strip club for dancers in debt. Tucker explained to me that the girls were smoking-hot, mostly Eastern European/of loose morals, and that it was the best club to go to in Chicago. We grabbed a sixer and headed to the car.

When we pulled up to a delapidated warehouse with no signage I wasn't impressed. I nearly didn't make the walk into the building for the crater-sized potholes littering the parking lot.

But we walked inside, and I swear to God, I nearly pissed myself. What a treasure-trove. There were breasts and booties and glitter and lace as far as the eye could see, in all four directions and limitless varieties. I immediately approached a bouncer and asked him how he was so fortunate to have been blessed with a job at this establishment. He told me to see the manager at the bar for a server application. And after a making every woman in the building uncomfortable with my drool, I did just that. I may have turned the manager (female) off with my eagerness, but I assured her that if she hired me she would never have another employee so dedicated to her club. Tardiness would be a non-issue.

Tucker and I got a table. I drank and drooled for about an hour, incognizant of all the beer I was consuming. The women were unlike any strippers I had seen in Florida. They were all soft and clean looking. There were perky little Asian beauties. There were Cocoa Godesses in thongs shaking their reindeer asses on all fours. One girl was over six feet tall with a school girl outfit and pigtails. Good God.

I was fast approaching black out drunkenness. I had to act quickly; it was time for me to break my lap dance cherry. Tucker called over a gorgeous Lithuanian blonde and I asked her to dance for me. I was too engrossed in the cavernous space between her breasts to notice they were literally shaking with heterosexual discomfort. She was trembling all over. I thought it was just the coke.

She took me into the VIP room, sat me down and started writhing all over me. In Bunny world, when you are drunk and a hot blonde is on your lap, the natural course of action is the grabbing of anything you can get into your paws and the putting it directly into your mouth like so...

And that is exactly what I did.

I got two fistfuls of ass, and she said in soft broken English, "No no, nah like thees," and moved my hands. Well I thought, "Sexy little minx is playing hard to get eh?" I was so drunk I didn't realize I was getting a lap dance.

I ran my hands down her legs. Again, "Nooooo." I thought, "Oh this is so hot. She's playing hard to get." Then I went to the breasts.

She got up, and someone who was very angry came over with a flashlight. That signaled the end of my very first lap dance, and all chances of being employed with Heavenly Bodies. My dreams were dashed upon Lithuanian boobies.

I was escorted from the VIP room, and Tucker and I went home. My allergy kicked in at some point on the twenty minute drive, and I began to shake and spin. I threw up and bled from all kinds of orifices, so this may be the end of the triumphant return of Bunny drunkenness. I'll miss the violence.

About Heavenly Bodies, I have only this to say:
1) I am moving to Lithuania some day.
2) The VIP room is the worst place on earth. Restraining Iggy Pop in a chair and dangling a bag of smack two inches from his nose is more just.

Oh god, I just compared myself to Iggy Pop.