So, I ended up in a pitch-black bathroom with two women–one a total stranger and the other I had met only once before. The total stranger removes her bathing suit top, takes a flashlight, puts it on the underside of her breast, turns said flashlight on and…
And, frankly, America, it was the coolest thing I saw all weekend and I had a weekend full of Kleinheider AND DB leading everyone in a rousing rendition of “Deep and Wide” with the fountain and the flowing.
Her whole boob lit up like a paper lantern and glowed this soft warm red glow, interrupted only by the occasional vein winding its way across like rivers on an ancient map.
If I were a stripper at the Claremont, and if I had fake tits, it would be impossible for me to resist incorporating that little bit of knowledge into my act. I would have them put on Also sprach Zarathustra and it would be pitch black and it would go like this
Bum (I light up one boob and then turn it off)
Bum (I light up the other boob and then turn it off)
Bum (I light them both up)
Bada (The lights come on and I swing my boobs rhythmically to the tympani in the background).
Lights off and repeat.
Once again.
And the lights come up and I have sparklers and people throw dollars at me!
So, really, it’d be a lot like what happens when I blog, except with an audience. Which, really, would be tons better, because I have a hard time getting the sparklers lit and not catching the dollar bills on fire when I have to do that all myself.