The story of a tour manager on the road and at home. A single, empowered, black woman in a business not dominated by single, empowered black women. This blog is not for the faint of heart. Straight up talk about sex, sexism, racism, relationships and everything else. Hear the good, bad and ugly from a hardcore female pushing her way to the top of the music business and life no matter who tries to push back.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
No More King Of Diamonds
I like my strip clubs just like the next latent homo, but this place gave me the heebie jeebeez. I know it's popular. I know these things. I know it's what rap dreams are made of. But I got straight bougie up in there. I didn't want nasty McNasty to serve me a drink. And the girls were lazy as fuck! Especially the ones in our section. Like, I need to see some cellulite ROLLING...or something all the while there was rainmaking a' poppin. There had to have been 30,000 $1 bills floating through the sky. In fact, I went home to shower off the scum of the strip club and found 2 $1 bills in my bra! That was for just standing there too...I wonder what I could do had I actually not had on a turtle neck?
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