Strip Clubs - Now that it's wedding season and I'm at the age where a few of my less astute male friends have elected to get themselves married, I'm constantly being forced to attend bachelor parties, many of which involve going to a strip club at some point in the evening. Being the heterosexual man that I am, I find the nude female form as pleasing as the next person. However, listening to some smack addict try to talk me into shelling out twenty bucks for "a dance" so she can pay her dealer and still afford to feed her illegitimate 4 year-old child is not exactly my idea of sexy. Before you tell me I'm "crazy" or "a faggot" or both, next time you're sitting in the dark next to a middle-aged guy with a sex addiction at some place called "Babes," drinking a $9 Budweiser while some chick who forgot to use deodorant is moonlighting on her "escort" job by rubbing hepatitis all over your pant leg for a hundred bucks an hour, try taking a long look around and honestly asking yourself whether you'd be having more fun at a normal bar talking to girls who aren't named "Lexus."
Nice Days — I like pleasant weather as much as the next guy, but part of me really hates this time of year. Every spring, people get so excited about going outside that they become over-demanding assholes, behaving as if every moment you spend indoors is some kind of mortal sin that should be brutally punished. Look, the average human being is in for about 90,000 "nice days" throughout the course of their lifetime, so just because I feel like spending one Saturday afternoon sitting in the dark comfort of my apartment, drinking cheap beer and watching