Like most bikers, I appreciate the art of dance. And there is little in the world of formal art, including Picasso’s Cubism, which can compare to the rare spectacle of an 18-year old farm girl named “Phoenix”, hopped up with a set of twin jugs the size of stretched fatbobs, flinging herself at a gold-plated pole set in packed mud in the back of a hayshed on a fine Missouri night to the music of a whiskey jug flute and a set of stolen spoons. Recently many of our fine readers (hell yeah, they can read) have written in asking various questions about the ancient art of nekid boogy. Below are some of the more literate questions and the answers which should help your next stripping experience to be even more fulfilling.
Readers write:
Dear Special Agent Zebra,
How do I know how much to tip a tit dancer? I usually toss a pig or a handfull of raisins on the stage, but I’m never sure if I’ve overtipped or under tipped.
Ghingas
Okalahoma
Zebra responds:
Dear Ghingas,
You have made a classic error. While in some regions pigs and rasins have great value, the currency of choice among nekid ass movers is money. Try slipping a dollar bill into Peaches’ ass crack the next time she bends down and does that fast ass flopping number for you. She’ll respond favorably and you might even get to whiff her money-maker if you fold the dollar up a few times and hold it in your teeth. Just be careful not to get your head caught in an ass while it is at full throttle, as it can grab you and jerk you in and tear your head off. I’ve seen it a dozen times and that’s how we almost lost Bandit at the Cheetah 3 in Atlanta. If it hadn’t been for the China Man who had the quick thinking idea of thrusting the Jaws of Life into that old gal’s crotch and freeing the careless Bandit, we’d have lost him for sure, or at the very least he would have been reduced to a vegatable by the high speed brain milkshake he was receiving.
Readers write:
Dear Special Agent Zebra,
I’m a stripper and I can’t see why men always have to throw their drinks on me and say such rude things. What am I doing wrong? Is it me? Is it them?
Frustrated in Mississippi,
-Big Joe Baxter
Zebra responds:
Dear Big Joe,
The reason the drinks are being hurled, most likely with the glasses still on them, is that you are a man. Now I’ve ridden through the mighty Miss many a times and I know for a fact that even in the most lonely possum swamps, there are at least a few women who know how to flex ass. So there really is no excuse for you being up on stage unless you’ve gone funny, at which point I would expect lead to soon follow those drinks if you don’t get your ass dressed and back into the cheap seats. Now, if you insist on dancing, despite my advice, then might I suggest you try coming up with a theme. Maybe a cowboy outfit, where you are in costume and dance to a western number. Bikers always appreciate a little creativity. And try to dance out of the lights and stay in the shadows. Shaving your ass is sure to help. Pumps of course go without saying.
Readers write:
Dear Special Agent Zebra,
I am seventeen years old, stacked, have an ass the size of a Georgia peach and a hymen trampoline just waiting to be jumped on. Daddy says I’m too young to start stripping, but I really want to learn how. Are there any good tit groove schools where I can go to and learn how to do an inverted ceiling to floor pole slide to AC/DC’s Highway to Hell without getting caught by my boring old father?
-The Virgin Mary
Zebra responds:
Dear Mary,
Thank goodness you’ve contacted me. Your father is a puritanical lunatic and clearly over protective. I’m sure you feel quite stifled and you have every right to feel that way. He is selfish and old fashioned. My god, does he even experiment with drugs? How do you spell dullsville? I’m sure all your friends are stripping and their parents don’t care, right? He must just be a bad person. I feel terrible for you. Please call me immediately and I will set up an appointment. I am a certified tit dance instructor and will be glad to give you lessons, on the sly of course. My goodness, what a narrow minded old man you must have. But not to worry, my dear. That is what bikernet.com is all about. And bring any friends you might have, as Digital Gangster and myself are just starting a new class especially for young virgins with parents who are selfish and mean. We call it the Stretch Mark Symphony and it’s really quite lovely. All you will need to bring is your favorite dance shoes, they can be boots as well, spurs preferred, some KY Jelly or axle grease if you don’t have KY, and we prefer you dress as a Catholic schoolgirl. If you can’t find axle grease, I’ve found 40-weight engine oil will do the trick in a tight spot, so to speak. Bullwhips and handcuffs are provided by the school.
-Z
