01.01.05
new beginnings (i never could spell it)
That day was Harold�s birthday. Someone had decided that the greatest present would be to take him to a new-age strip bar. They said it was the fine art of the stripping world, that the girls there would blow your mind. They dragged be along because they had bone crushers at a dollar 99 per plate. Looking back at it now, that wasn�t such a great deal,
It looked like a raver�s club except with less people and more strippers. There were defiantly more men staring blankly around, dinks in had an even perhaps a lady at their side. It was pathetic and the colour of kool-aid.
That wasn�t the first time I talked to her. I spent that night in a corner crunching my bone crushers in my teeth as Harold got his private dances from each of the girls, amusing because he was gay anyway
shi-ou-sama at