Stupid Question of the Month

This month's question is a little different than in the past. I myself asked it to Mr. Brad Tanner earlier this year while hangin' out and havin' breakfast at a club on McLoughlin that iscurrently seeking residency in North Portland.

"Hey, Brad, do you wanna have another Exotic Covergirl Contest this year?"

The answer to this question was unfortunately YES! So in November, we started down that road of fun-filled exotic entertainment that would last for ten weeks of erotic bliss. Now what is it with contests, anyway? Why must we have them? Do we have the sadistic desire to judge these noble strippers who bare themselves for a wrinkled dollar bill? Must we embarrass them with rating their fragile psyche on a scale of 1 to 10? Is this what we call entertainment, people? You're goddamned right it is. Entertainment is what it's all about. And we often have to go the extra mile to keep you all entertained. I mean, after all, you get into these clubs for free, you tip a dollar a song (if you're a good boy), you get to drink, smoke, gamble, and eat fine meals for ridiculously low prices, all in the presence of hot naked babes. You poor deprived bastards, it's the least we can do to try and give you more entertainment for that hard-earned dollar you didn't even bother to tip with.

So we had the goddamn contest. It was an experience I will face again, probably very soon. But the things I learned from this contest will save me from a small fraction of the aches and pains involved in putting something like this together. There are stories I could tell about this contest that would be quite entertaining to read about but would unfortunately make my life even more miserable were they to appear in print. I have to work with these people. That's right, Spooky has taken on a new personality. You can see me as undercover DJ at Jody's Bar and Grill every Sunday night. You know, I always hated DJs. How the hell did I turn into one? I think it was that damn contest's fault! So now that I am musical slave boy to six strippers on a Sunday night, it has taught me even more about an industry I used to enjoy so much before I became a part of the machine that is porn.

Back to the contest--let me try and condense my thoughts into a few direct jabs so that the impact will only put you into a coma for a week or two. This is how these contests work:

1. They're always fixed. That's right, I said it. They're fixed! No matter how straight-up and legit we try to make them go off, someone will always find a
way to fix them. The Jody's contest judging structure was very carefully set up so that it could NOT be fixed. But in the end, it wasn't foolproof. Maybe the
customers couldn't fix it, maybe the dancers couldn't fix it, and hell, even we couldn't fix it. But if forces aligned with likeminded intentions, integrity beware. In the end, no, the fuckin' contest wasn't fixed. But as I announced the winners, two unfortunate bastards sitting at the rack immediately started shouting accusations of The Fix. I very politely shared a brief ten-minute monologue (which you are now reading) explaining my delight with their opinions.

Actually, the only thing fixed in these contests I run is cold hard facts. If a contest is going to be judged fair and legit, know this...the hot nineteen-year-old with the perfect, stretch-mark-free body is ALWAYS going to win. We were
fortunate enough to have several young ladies in this contest who fit that description, which made it even more difficult in the end.

Now if a contest is not carefully disciplined in its ruling, it will be fixed. It can be fixed by customers with too much expendable income. (And God love 'em for it!) I had the pleasure of getting to know several of these gentlemen during the contest. They were responsible for more than half of the finalists. And once the girls became aware of this, that made them even more powerful.

Then there are the girls that will straight-up fix the contest themselves. Now, these predatory creatures are generally NOT going to be the hot nineteen-year-olds I was speaking of earlier. These are the less attractive, not as sexy, and all around HARDER WORKING strippers. These venomous vixens have learned the valuable art of targeting the loneliest, neediest, and most starved-for-attention customers that wander into a strip club hoping to find happiness, but who instead leave with an empty wallet and a free magazine to go home and beat off to.