Happy Whore Thanksgiving

I drove to Palm Springs for Thanksgiving last night. I was listening to Sirius/XM, and I started flipping the channels around. One show came up on the receiver that said "Whore Talk".

Well, I love whores and I love talk, so I decided to check it out. A girl was speaking in a very sexy voice, but she was just talking about her Thanksgiving dinner. She's like, "oooohhhh yeah, blackberries. ummmmmm, cherries. and pie".

I was pissed. That's not whore talk! That's food talk! I don't like mixing whores and food, except when I watch "9 and 1/2 Weeks".

But it reminded me of a very special Thanksgiving I had some years back.

About a week before, Joel McHale (name dropper!) took me to a wrap party for some crappy straight to video movie he had just shot. It was at the White Lotus in Hollywood (remember that place, LA people?). We were hanging out, and Joel was very kind to introduce me to an actress who had a bit part in the movie.

She was very attractive, and we had a nice time and I got the digits. It just so happened that we were both going to be in San Diego for Thanksgiving. She asked me if I wanted to hang out after turkey. I said okay.

So after the Thanksgiving feast I put on some jeans and my best sweater and met her out at a bar, along with 2 of her friends. We were hanging out, drinking, having an okay time. And then she goes, "hey, let's go to the strip club!".

This seemed odd, but am I really going to say no to the attractive yet obviously insane actress that's been drinking and wants to see some boobs with me? The short answer is no.

So we go to the strip club. And this may shock you, but a strip club on Thanksgiving is just about the saddest thing you've ever seen in your life. I guess it's the kind of place you go if the only thing you can possibly be thankful for is tits.

The place instantly kills the mood, if there was ever a mood to begin with. I say "fuck it", and just go up to the stage and plop myself down. A black stripper was up there, doing something that Bristol Palin would call dancing but the rest of us would call walking.

She comes over to me. I have no idea what qualified her to be a stripper, other than the fact that she was willing to show that worn out body to strangers. She may or may not have had a bullet hole scar on her hip.

She kneels down to me, and goes "hey baby, how's your Thanksgiving?" I foolishly engage her in this conversation. I say foolishly because then she starts telling me everything she just had for dinner.

"And then my grandma brought her famous apple pie over..."

Keep in mind while she's telling me this she's bent over with her boobs on the floor.

And then she moves on to what her kids had for dinner. Not only did it ruin my Thanksgiving, it ruined my boner.

After that, we went home. I never saw her again. I never saw the actress again, either.