Anything I ever did for love was completely pointless. I gave, I gave, I gave … she booted me out on my ass as soon as she found some guy with a bigger schwantz and more money and a nicer car.
Love?
Whatever.
-Syko
“My cat’s breath smells like cat food.” - Ralph Wiggum
4 mph?
Um, Quasi, that’s the same as…walking. And not exactly speed-walking, either. I betcha yer average Gramma and Grampa do better than that in the shopping mall at 7 am…
OK, OK, I realize that the point of the whole thread is that it’s irrational, and you wouldn’t’ve wanted to miss the whole drama of the ticket and the extra months’ grounding :D, but still…did it cross your horndog skull to hoof it?
I just have to say that it’s not as off the wall a thing to imagine her going out with you. I went to a strip club with a friend once, and one stripper actually asked my friend out. They were both in (different) grad schools and had hit it off talking about what they were learning.
PC
Which Cat Woman, just out of curiousity? TV, comic, movie?
Yes, I realize I’m branding myself a a geek…
We all have dreams. I dream of owning my own home. Just me and the dog, owning my wn home, not having to answer to a landlord, etc.
So I’m in the process of buying a home, and I’m as excited as can be. Thrilled. I’m having dreams about how great this house is going to be. And I meet this woman on the Internet. She lives in Los Angeles (I live in the South). She’s so great, I’m convinced that she’s the one. I use the “L” word with her. I am nuts over her. I am completely fucking nuts, of course. I decide I’m going to move to Los Angeles, and I back out of the deal to buy the house, getting only moderately sued in the process.
What happens with L.A. Woman? We break up: Duh! I am left with no girlfriend, no house, and a shit-life that I have brought upon myself. Stupid is as stupid does, and folks, I am stupid.
Mrs. Hardware was expecting our first child, and had weird cravings. At one point, she wanted sardines and sour cream on crackers. I got it for her, and of course, had to try one for myself, to show “I’m in this with you, honey!” I got one down, while she was happily munching away like it was prime rib.
Of course, a few years earlier, I’d driven 300 miles during the night to surprise her at breakfast on Valentine’s Day. I’d brought a card, candy, and a rose, and was waiting for her in the university cafeteria. Made a nice impression, and we’ve been married now for 21 years.
Some women at strip bars are unbelievably nice and sweet and you’d have a great time dating them or just hanging out as friends.
Others are complete bitches who do things like the above poster described to prove that they have some power in their lives or are better than their customers.
And most were the way they were before they became strippers.
…I’ll be the first to admit we all do strange things to impress the opposite sex but I did unusual things for the Hub.(now ex)including…
Tweezing nose hairs…(funny to watch his eyes water)
Cleaning toe nails…(better o’ had a shower)
Razoring kneck hair…(Cro Magnum man)
Trimming moustache and beard hairs…(yes it’s even now)
Pop pimples…(the back is hard to reach)
…He always thanked me for these little jobs and my standard reply was “That is what love does”.Apparently he didn’t understand.The man was spoiled…Would I do these and even stanger things again for a man? You bet. Why? Because THAT is what love does.
lee, KellyM:
I would have responded sooner had I known that my post elicited such contempt!
I was pretty much JOKING, as, yes, I do see humor in the guy thinking she was out of his league as he was paying her to dance naked in front of him.
Although I perhaps should have reworded my post to read that SOME strippers are not exactly the upper echelons
of society, I stick by my original assertion that according to my definitions of “leagues”, a stripper would not be at the top of them. My idea of upper echelon professions would probably be more like triage or ob/gyn nurses, entepreneurs,
nonprofit organization directors, Mother Theresa, etc. In MY opinion. Now perhaps if the stripper was a candy striper or girl scout troop leader on her off nights or something, I’d have to retract my statement. However, since I have not heard anything similar about the whole of strippers, I will have to say that I dont think its a wholly honorable profession. Do I begrudge them their choice? (And yes, it is a CHOICE, its not like they were born that way or had no way to avoid theur profession.) Nah, I dont care what they do as long as they can live with it. But do I have a right to draw from every experience I have had or heard about in strip clubs in terms of formulating my opinion? Yes.
So if my preconceived notions about stripping being one of the less honorable careers are wrong, then perhaps its the fault of those of you who insist on defending it. You must not be disseminating the positive, rewarding aspects of this career and its benefit to society.
Yes, I agree that generalizations can wrong, and can hurt,
but there is a reason that they are called generalizations.
They can be generally true. Deal with it.
OK, so back in my teen years (late 80s) I was hanging with teen types and doing teen things, like hanging around on top of a 4
story parking garage in the middle of the night. Well, I had a rep of being wild crazy and was trying to impress a girl by
playing up that rep, so I jumped off the top of aformentioned 4 story garage. (Not as suicidal as it sounds, I aimed for some
trees growing nearby and got away with only a few scratches).
The result? Absolutely nada. She was head over heels for another guy in our group and had neglected to mention it… 
Oh, and on the stripper subthread, I have a good friend who worked for a couple of years as a topless dancer (and was good,
as she actually danced not just shuffled around vaguely in time to the music. And I’d definately count her as one of the
sweetest, most caring people in the world. On the other hand she’d complain about co-workers that were, to paraphrase,
“skanky bitches”. So I’d say that profession is just like any other - some people in a job live up to the stereotype, and
most don’t. You’ll be wrong more than right if you try to generalize.
Thanks for your input, Nymaz. I like hearing about people like that, because sure, it shatters the negative stereotype, which is always a good thing IMO. However, you said she complained about her skanky bitch co-workers.
Makes it sound like she was in the minority in terms of character. So would you say maybe at least half the time or more, the generalization holds true?
I once drove 19 hours straight from my school in PA to his school in FL to surprise my boyfriend only to find him in bed with some sushi twat.
Love stinks.
People like that deserve whatever horrible fate they deserve when their bad karma comes back to slap them in the face.
(Stupid things I do for love? Doesn’t spending five hours at Robinsons while my wife is shopping for Yet Another Dress count? )
I paid for and sat through a Celine Dion concert, just to make my then-fiancee, now-wife happy. I figured she put up with Green Day, Goldfinger, The Offspring, and Chixdiggit! to placate me, I can indulge her musical …ahem… tastes. Let me tell you, it…was…HELL!!
Scary thing #1 - I knew most of the songs. I only can attribute this to the fact that I was undergoing orthodontic treatment at the time and had spent an inordinate amount of time in a dentist’s office.
Scary item #2 - The opening act. Some impressionist, who’s big finale was performing all the voices in We Are The World. Did I mention this was in 1998, for cryin’ out loud? 13 years after the fact. Even worse, most of the audience ate it up.
Scary item #3 - I showed up early enough to see aforementioned opening act.
My girlfriend sprained her ankle and I used to carry her to class until it healed. I’ld slap my backpack round one shoulder, hers around my other, picker her up and she’d hang on to ther crutches. I’d carry her clear across campus with everyone watching like were insane. Weird, but I’d do it again.
I jumped into the ocean for love.
Introduction: As many of you know, I am an Orthodox Jew. As some of you might know, the religion forbids a man to even touch his wife following her menstrual period until she’s been free of blood a whole week and then dunks in a pool called a “Mikvah.” While most communities with sizable Jewish populations have an indoor, heated mikvah, this is not necessary…any natural body of water will do as a “Mikvah.” Now, the meat of the story:
We had been planning a trip to maritime Canada for fourth of July weekend. We worked up a whole itinerary, made reservations, etc. Then, when it came time for the trip, it turned out that my wife’s Mikvah night was the night we planned to spend in Labrador. Now, I can’t say for certain, but I’d be willing to wager that when we got off the ferry in Labrador, we raised the place’s Orthodox Jewish population by infinity perecnt.
Sooo…what were we going to do? Well, she could dunk in the nearby ocean…
Basically, by the time we got to our B & B, seen the tourist attraction we had come to Labrador to see, and prepared for the dunk, it was around 1 AM. We drove to a spot near the shore, left the headlights of our car pointed in the direction of the water, and I carried our two sleeping children (then two years old and two months old) down to where we thought the water looked reasonably deep, when we saw it at twilight. I slipped on the dark sand, holding onto the children (now crying) while I accompanied my wife into the ocean to support her.
My sneakers were still wet three days later. But we have no regrets. 
Broke up my marriage. That was pretty weird.
Oh my. Full points to you for guts, that’s for sure. If she had any style, she should have graciously accepted them, and then paid you some attention, or ignored you, but she should not have laughed at you.
I moved to Japan for someone I never kissed. She moved to Australia three months later, leaving me there. A slight miscalculation concerning someone’s level of selfishness. Live and learn…
I would do anything, smiling, for my wife, to whom I am absolutely devoted.
I haven’t done many weird things for my boyfriends in the past, but I have done some for the current one. (Almost two years and counting!) Hmmmm…here’s some that come to mind:
[ul]
[li] Eaten pig snout soup, which he made (it was good), though I narrowly escaped eating the bull testicles that he wanted to cook for me. He took it surprisingly well, usually he sulks and goes on for days if I don’t gobble up one of his dishes… the fellow needs to understand I’m small and just don’t eat much at once. 
He has fed me so many strange/foreign foods (some of which I did not even know the ingredients of) that I can’t even begin to recall them. Most of them end up being pretty good… it’s just odd to be presented with a weird, green square-shaped jelly thing with an unidentifiable paste inside that he purchased in Chinatown and told “Here, I got this for you, now eat it!” – “What is it?” – “I don’t know!”[/li]
[li] He is obsessed with dogs/animals, and although I find it charming, it entails things like spontaneously entering petting zoos, pet shops and animal shelters to visit the critters there. I also have to explain to him almost daily why he can’t have a dog (he’s in school and lives in an apartment), and play along when he constantly claims it’s my fault that I “won’t let him have a dog.” He also claims to want a whale, which I am also preventing him from having because I am mean and jealous. On our recent trip to Québec, I had to stand at an intersection and wait until a gap appeared between two of the cars traveling down the road just to get a photograph of the dog standing across the street. He also pulled on my arm until I photographed a black cat sitting in a window. :D[/li]
[li] I quit dying my hair red, let it grow out its natural colour and stopped cutting it. I don’t mind it long now that it’s gotten past that annoying halfway stage, but I probably wouldn’t have started letting it grow out if it wasn’t for his request.[/li]
[li] I started wearing my makeup more like Shirley Manson from Garbage. (She has very dark eyeliner in her photographs.) People already said I looked like her in some of my photos, anyway.[/li]
[li] Bought a cowboy hat so I could be a real “Texan” and use a hick-accent when speaking to his relatives in Saskatchewan. He made me wear it while we visited them for Giftmas.[/li]
[li] Redrew an erotic picture he found on the internet of a four-legged woman to look like me.[/li]
[li] Posted fliers for his political discussion group all over the University campus for four hours. I also drew a picture according to his directions /for/ the fliers.[/li]
[/ul]
Now that I look at this, none of it seems all that weird…though, I have to admit we are both pretty unusual individuals. I feel so relaxed and enjoy myself so much while I’m up with him at University, it never bothers me to do things like wash dishes every day, wash his clothes (these take three hours to wash and hang up to line-dry in the basement), or do the shopping, and I really do find all his eccentricities to be extremely adorable, though he gets mad at me and insists he isn’t cute. I want to know why he acts like a small child on purpose then.
By the way, he’s a major in artificial intelligence and computational linguistics, and he’s fairly fluent in French and learning German…so I do know it’s on purpose.
All this admitting mushiness is making me feel horribly out of character. I’m going to stop now! 
More in the name of lust than anything else:
I bought and wore a kilt. Stewart Hunting.
I still do on occasion, just for the heck of it. Got my own, too.
Galloway Hunting. Pics available upon request. Send $1 and a SASE. My pleats need some starch.