It's 2:39 a.m, and I'm just back from watching the strippers get it in at LIV on U St. Please remember to tip them, they are regular people just like us. Who cares if they like to pour milk down the crack of their asses, or simulate oral sex on crowd participants? They have normal day jobs like us...They are plumbers, and interior decorators, and ministers, and pediatricians...! So tip them damnit! I know I couldn't have shaken my ass like that and gotten up for work, or could I...? I would actually consider a profession in stripping, but the only thing that concerns me is the really tacky costumes. To date, I've never seen a stripper in vintage Dior, or current season McQueen? The second Karl Largerfeld finds his inspiration at Body Tap, count me in...Im going to dance for blooood, cause my outfit is going to be so over!!!!!!
Can anybody tell me how I'm going to get up for work? Sponsors please call 202-615-....! Big up Hadi, Howard, and Elias...!









Bethany, we all know that job on "the hill" can be so stressful at times. Sometimes, you just need a release. When that total hottie Jim from upstairs in market research asks you out for happy hour cocktails, you acquiesce. Jim makes a pinky swear promise that he'll have you home by 9:30. Next thing you know, you're puking up the big slice you just chomped down. It's now 3:30 in the morning, and Jim is nowhere to be found. You're stumbling around Adam's Morgan in an Ann Taylor Loft business suit, sensible work heels, and a Cole Hahn tote? In extremely slurred speech you scream, "Which fucking way is Clarendon? How the fuck do I get back to Clar-en-don?" No one hears you Bethany, because they're all drunk too! "I swear on Monday that fucking Jim is gonna get it...!"


