Why Reality T.V. Ruined My Saint Patrick’s Day

Ashley and Farrah of Rock of Love Bus Failed us

Death by Party | The Blondetourage Tour: On the classiest of holidays, was to be the classiest of parties. FAIL

My mission was to write about the Rock of Love girls  who had embarked on a series of stripper appearances called the “Blondetourage” tour. Farrah and Ashley became world famous for their unusual style (orange tans, bleached blonde hair, large fake breasts)  and by getting into repeated fist fights with other girls while trying to fuck plastic surgery crypt keeper and 80’s anti-musician Bret Michaels.

Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to meet these super stars? This had the ear marks of the perfect self loathing masochistic hater fest that any blogging dick could ask for. I hate reality t.v. I hate Saint Patricks day, I hate strip clubs, I hate barbie doll looking bitches. So why not be open minded and go straight into the belly of the beast?

So I went into Center City. It was exactly what I expected. A glorious shit show. In walking 5 blocks from the Broad Street Line, I saw one fight, two pukers, one girl passed out on the sidewalk and four public urinators. (All four by the door of the Gold Club.)  As our event listing pointed out, the Gold Club is located down a dead end alley, behind a group of dumpsters belonging to an Applebees. It was a perfect place for green shirted dicks to pee and there was something pretty perfect about having to walk through a river of piss to get to the Gold Club entrance.

I was ready, it was time to meet these stars. The line was out the door and and I had to wait with a group of screaming bro’s in stupid hats and face paint, hyped up on testosterone and car bombs screaming about all the hot bitches they were going to fuck. I got to the door and asked the door man if he knew when the Rock of love Girls were going on.
“Oh yeah, we have thirty girls on tonight.”
Before I could repeat, I was push ushered into the club with my change clutched in my hand. The Gold Club is tiny and the stage is ground floor with brass railings around it, giving the dancers a  corralled kinda feel. When I finally got the bartenders attention, I asked her the same question.
When the Rock of love Girls were going on?
“Oh yeah, I like girl the girls whose on.” she said rolling her eyes.
Finally an anorexic, jittery stripper came over and started rub her ass on my crotch. I screamed in her ear
“When are the Rock of Love Girls going on?”
“Oh no honey, they canceled.”

Mission unaccomplished. You know how this ends? Just like that. Taxi!

– Jimi Jam

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