“I’m not a stripper and this boy isn’t a bastard!”

I went to New Jersey a couple weeks ago, and used the Newark Airport as my transportation hub. This airport has always given me problems in the past but I don’t have any other option when I go visit me mum. So a few Sundays ago, Mom brought me back to the airport so I could return to Florida to continue baking in unemployment goodness. It was supposed to be an easy flight.

The flight was supposed to take off at 7:45pm and I would be back at my house no later than 11pm. But Newark doesn’t like to keep things that easy.

I get to the assigned gate and noticed that the Tampa flight isn’t even on the sign. Instead, a flight to DC was posted, and it’s departing time was 8:30pm. There was a tall skinny chick ahead of me, so I decided to walk up to her to see if she had any information. “Hey, are you here for the Tampa flight?” I asked. She turned to me, and I noticed she held a pretty newly born child. “Yeah, this guy said it was going to be a little late.” But of course. I think the universe would collapse if Newark ever ran a flight on time.

There was something about this girl though, that intrigued me. A few moments later, she asked me if I would keep an eye on her stroller while she went to the bathroom. “Um, sure,” I said while thinking, “aren’t you not supposed to leave your shit with strangers?” I obliged her and watched the stroller, doing my best to keep myself from putting any dynamite in a hidden pocket.

When she got back, she started talking. This girl was a talker. She rambled on and on. She told me her baby was only 6 months old and that she had never been to a strip club, but that she is afraid of dollar bills because she “knows” where some of them end up at a strip club.

She also doesn’t like flying on planes with someone wearing a turban. Isn’t the White Race glorious? Like we white people never did some crazy shit? Did she not know about the Oklahoma City Bombing? Or Columbine? If anything, I hate getting on planes with white people.

She rambled about everything except who the father of her baby was. And since she brought up strip clubs so much, I was pretty convinced that she was one, even though she claimed to have never been to one. The only hypothesis this science experiment could draw was that this girl was a dirty stripper, and had sex without following the Three Ps.
And not to change the subject, but today’s picture is the first one I’ve drawn with a mouse in a few weeks. The mouse is back kids.

Stripping for Change (7/2008)

After 2 hours and 2 gate changes, we finally boarded the plane. She got to get on first because she had a baby and what not. “So long,” I said. She replied, “Thank you for helping me out. My boyfriend will be happy to know someone was helping me without hitting on me.”

Wait a second. You have a boyfriend? Maybe she said that because she thought I wasn’t the keen detective I was. I had figured out her secret. No matter what rubbish she fed me about a boyfriend and what not, I knew it was all lies. This girl had sex in the champagne room. In fact, she was the room.

She sat in the row in front of me on the plane. I could often hear her talking to the person next to her, laying in thick the same shit she spewed at me. I swear, these repeater types are fucking malfunctioning humanoid robots. Why do people do that all the time? Tell something a bunch of pointless shit to anyone trapped near them.

Wait, I think that’s what this blog is doing. Sorry. Speaking of which, I’ve been trying to watch Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire. Can anyone tell me if this movie actually goes somewhere? Oh wait, there it goes. I think… oh wait, no. My bad.

Author: bronsonfive

Film, movies, whatever.

11 thoughts on ““I’m not a stripper and this boy isn’t a bastard!””

  1. This blog is totally LOLable. and “stripping for change”? ‘Cause of her dollar bill phobia? Brilliant. I also liked the parts about placing dynamite in a baby carriage and being scared to fly with white people.
    and I thought I was the only one.

  2. haaha…. wim wenders. i watched the first seven minutes and fell asleep.

    now I’m afraid of George Washington bills.

    Isn’t it also recommended not to watch someone’s belongings while they go to the potty and possibly never come back?

    I like this drawing w/o the stripper….who looked quite female until i got to the V–and then fleeting images of male body builders flashed before my eyes.

    and when i scrolled back up, her bosom became man-breasts. ^H^

  3. Saimfeld: I am glad you lol’d. Loling makes the world go round.

    Pugs: Yes, I believe the correct airport etiquette is not entrust your belongings with strangers when you go to drop a deuce. And now that you compared my dirty stripper to a male body builder, it’s all I can see.

    Abarclay: The baby was actually quiet. Didn’t make a peep. If it did, I probably would have punched it in the face.

  4. So how did she bring up the subject of strip clubs? What was her clever conversational segue? That’s a massively suspect topic for a woman to broach with a stranger of the opposite sex.

  5. Your drawing on this one had a lot of potential. The chick’s rack is hot, but i’m TOTALLY turned off by the giant play-doh looking hands.

    she gets no dollas from me, yo.

  6. Steve: She totally brought it up, right between her philosophy of turban-wearers and when she left me alone with her baby carriage.

    Joebecca: Yeah, I know. This drawing could be better. But the point of it is that she wasn’t the best looking kid on the block, naw mean?

    Evyl: Not really I guess.

    Saimfeld: I don’t know.

  7. Oh, I am SO glad the mouse is back, ’cause only a mouse could capture the dirtyness of her stringy stripper hair, hahaha ;-)

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