Saturday, May 12, 2012

At the Pussycat Dolls

The manager of Pussycat Dolls had to do a painful duty: he has to let one of his performers go.

"Roxie,  you come see me after your set."

Roxie performed, ultimatle removing all except for her g-string, and did intricate maneuvers on the pole.

After the show, she said, "You wanna see me?"

"Yes, Roxie.  I'm afraid we'll have to let you go."

"Huh?  Wuffo?  "Didn't I have those cool dances?"

"Yes, Roxie."

"And didn't I strip as far as allowed?"

"Yes on that too."

"And am I not a star on the pole?"

"You are."

"And my lap dances.  Any complaints?"


"So what's this fired shit."

"Well, Roxie, remember that we have a morals clause."

"Yes, so what?  I don't let the customers hump me.  I was strictly professional."

"Yes, but it's your moonlighting that caused complaints.  It seemed that, in addition to being a stripper, you also moonlighted at a newspaper, working as a columnist.  We run a respectable joint, and can't have that."


  1. What self-respecting strip club owner would permit a reporter from working on his premises?

  2. Roxie you dummy. That's what pseudonyms are for.

  3. Neither strippers nor reporters are the sharpest of knives in the drawer.

  4. I thought she was running for Congress.