"I want a laid back, down home club like The Torch in Boise. The Rhino is all corporate, airbrushed publicity shots of Janine all over the walls. The local girls can't live up to that, what with their baby fat and stretchmarks. They can't even go topless, and yet they hit you up all night for private dances. And if the answer is no, they sit at your table telling you how their mom is babysitting their daughter for July 4th so they can go on a road trip and get "totally wasted" up at the hot springs. Until you decide, despite the five dollar Thursday night
cover charge, you should leave as quickly as you arrived. That, my friend, is the Boise Spearmint Rhino."
Looks like my friend has saved me a road trip. I wonder if a Spearmint Rhino would work in Portland?
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1 comment:
Yeah, whatever. All I remember about the Spearmint Wino is the massive clouds of cancer-causing, airborne fungus eminating from the Goddamned fog machine, which, incidentally, they seemingly keep running to mask the baby phat and stretch marks on the "dancers."
Personally, I'd rather have stayed home and watched my grandmother dance as I slipped dollar bills in her depends undergarments.
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