Here Are The Most Absurd, Ridiculous Experiences BroBible Editors Have Ever Had With Strippers
If there’s one thing us editors at BroBible know, being, you know, hard drinking, super cool, bad ass, ripped chest, lots of girls banging dudes who sit behind computer screens all day, it’s having to pay women to take their clothes off.
That’s right. We deal with strippers a lot.
From bachelor parties to fishing trips to cocaine-fueled benders through Tupelo, Mississippi, we’re always wasting our hard earned cash on strippers (and blogging on the internet isn’t as lucrative as you might think) (try though, telling a stripper that your dollar should mean more than the $20 some finance prick is waving).
Often times getting a stripper is good, old-fashioned fun. Often times it is not.
So we rounded up the best stories from all our collective experiences. Names have been eliminated, but if you can guess the author of each one, email me (david.covucci@brobible) and I’ll get you a tee-shirt.
Summer after freshman year in college. There’s a lot of seedy 18+ strip clubs in rural America that don’t serve booze. Group of friends and I go check one out on a Saturday night. It’s predictably nasty AF. Like instant “want to take a shower” gross.
A couple minutes after settling in, one of the strippers walks over with a loud “OMG! Haven’t seen you guys since I dropped out!” Awkward small talk. She then loudly asks, “Hey, you guys want to see my dildo?” and without hesitation whips out a comically large rubber dildo and starts swinging it around. We started laughing because she starts launching into her stage act. After a while we are still laughing because this is not hot at all, so she got kind of offended.
We tipped and said our goodbyes and left except one dude who had English class with her. He was a lone ranger that night and really wanted to stay. I’m pretty sure he woke up in the back of a 1991 Chevy Astro minivan.
My roommate sophomore year of college invited all his fraternity brothers over for a stripper + 21st birthday celebration. Close to the end of the night, she said she wanted to get into porn after being a stripper. She then blew like 11 of his frat bros for a total of $15 (with like 8 of them in the bathroom at the same time, she went full ‘ski pole’ on them).
This all happened in my bathroom, not the roommate’s bathroom who ordered the stripper. So for the next week he had to send pledges over every day to clean the bathroom because I couldn’t shower in there. I eventually just started using another bathroom and never felt clean again.
A few years back, I was on a bachelor party with some friends of mine at the beach. Friday night, we use BackPage and get a stripper. She was fine, did her thing, and left (I think, I may have blacked out during the show). But she left a bag of candy on the coffee table.
The next day, half of us are on the beach, half of us are on the back deck. Luckily, someone goes inside to pee, and sees the stripper coming through the front door.
“Oh,” she says. “Just came to get my candy.”
She was clearing planning on robbing the place, no doubt in ANYONE’s mind, and that was her trick she used all the time. But caught, she played it off and hung out with us for an hour, telling us we were real cool dudes (Sure) (She also mentioned this was her fourth time at the same beach house).
My buddy kept pestering her to find us coke, but she said she couldn’t get any. “I have molly, though,” and she took four of us to her car. She dipped her finger in it, and let us all lick it off (I for some reason snorted it off her nail).
Within ten minutes, all four of us were passed out, and we all slept for the next five hours.
Pretty sure she gave us the roofies she also uses to rob guys.
My freshman year of college we ordered a stripper to the biggest suite in our dorm for our friend Paul’s birthday. We moved all the furniture and set up about 20 circle of chairs, charging $20 a seat for anyone outside of 10 of our friends. It was a sold out show, and all proceeds went to the talent. When the stripper showed up, it was tough to tell what was bigger: her boobs or her Adam’s Apple. Erroneous. Much to our delight, she abused my friend Paul: whipped him with his own belt, spanked him, smacked him in the face with the dildo she brought, and made him suck on a lollipop that had been inside her woman parts. From that day on, no matter how much he begged and pleaded, he was and will forever be known as ‘Pussy Pop Paul’. I will see to it myself that it be etched on his gravestone.
I had a stripper fall asleep on me once. I didn’t want to wake her up, but she still charged me $360.
I was in PIKE at the University of Miami. During my pledge retreat, our class and 10-15 brothers went to Key Largo for the weekend. One of my pledge brothers’ parents owned a vacation home there and they let us use their house for the retreat. They were either the coolest or stupidest parents on the face of the earth. Since their son was eventually kicked out of school for shooting a girl with a BB gun, I think it’s safe to conclude the latter.
Anyway, while we were there, we got ourselves a stripper! Don’t get too excited, she was, in a word, disgusting. Everything about her was gross to the MAX, including the freezer bag full of marinating fish she brought with her and left it in the fridge while she got down to business. Hey, she was the only available game in town, we had to look past it.
After 30 of the most vile minutes of my life, she stopped waving her rank pussy around the room, turned off the boombox (that she also brought with her and played only one song, on repeat, the entire time) and then she proceeded to fuck two of my fraternity brothers in my pledge brother’s parents’ bed. When she was done, she grabbed the fish, told us it was for her father who was home sick, and she left.
And concludes the story of why I can never eat tilapia or listen to “Pour Some Sugar On Me” without dry heaving.