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more conversations with dancers

September 15, 2012

It’s been a bit of a rough year for one of my friends and her teeth, and this week her cat joined in on the fun. The week started with her poor cat having eight teeth removed, and ended with my friend’s previously fixed teeth breaking.  Badly.

The minute she walked into class you knew something was wrong and, of course, being the kind-hearted wonderful beings that we belly dancers are, we all rushed in with comfort and sympathy and talk of lawyers because her dental surgeon is an ass.  And then one of the girls offered to walk past his office and fart.

Sensing that perhaps this wasn’t quite strong enough she upped it to entering his office and shitting on the floor.

And she was for real.

And this is why I love my friends!

Oh yeah, there was also a conversation about who’s going down.  It may have been started by me.  But this was in reference to choreography and had nothing to do with anything sexual you sick freaks.  It’s not that kind of dance.

Though if you’re looking for that sort of thing, I can recommend a good place in montreal.  It specializes in extremely apathetic dancers, performers, women who eventually saunter on to stage and can’t keep their disillusionment with life out of their expressions, but still have the ability to occasionally kick a leg up into the air or wrap it around a pole and spend some time with each other ‘down there’.

Don’t expect any I’m-loving-this porn moaning.  These girls have clearly lost the ability to express pleasure.  Even the fake kind.

You know, now that I think of it, it’s probably not worth the time and money to go.  You’d be better off just watching porn.  So rent, buy, go to your secret supply under your bed or in the back of your closet, because even the worst porn has to be better, and clearly if your reading this, you have internet access and there may be something available there.

If you really need that ‘live’ experience, stand naked in front of a mirror.

Trust me, it would be more exciting.

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