Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Holiday Season

With Thanksgiving Day over and Christmas approaching, businesses have their fill of customers this time of year. However, business is dead for male stripping this time of year. It may just be my location though since I tend to strip at the beach condos along the Gulf Coast. Most women spend the holidays visiting or vacationing with their families rather than book bachelorette parties. My stripping gigs will start trickling in when spring arrives, which is around March in my neck of the woods.

Other than that, I'm going to quit my full time job (which will remain a secret until I actually quit). I have put in almost 70 hours of work last week. That is not unusual either. On the days that I do have off, I'm catching up on the stuff that I don't have time to do during the week such as work out, laundry, or house cleaning. On top of that, I had to turn down a lot of strip shows because of this hectic schedule. I'm often tired, stressed out, and too drained to write anything after work. Getting up to go to the gym requires all of my willpower, because I just want to sleep and relax on my days off. 

I have many plans. One is starting my own business. Another plan is possibly becoming a booking agent for male strippers. And of course, my other plan is to write more stories with the free time I will have once I stop working so damn much.

Edit: Scratch the business idea out for now.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Workout Routine

Being a male stripper requires one to stay in relatively good physical shape in the very least, so exercise is very important. Many readers ask me what I do to stay in shape, or if I take supplements or go on specific diets, so I'm here to explain that I simply go to the gym, lift weights, eat healthy, and get adequate rest.

If you want to have a good body, you're going to have to put in some hard work at the gym to get it. No magic pill, diet, or special exercise tool will sculpt the perfect body for you. You're going to have to break a sweat to get there. Your training must remain consistent, meaning you can't just go to the gym for two months and expect a complete transformation. I spent years of consistent training and not giving up. In addition to that, I work out on days that I'm exhausted, moody, or busy. Even when I work over 60 hours a week, I make time for the gym no matter what, even if that means catching a quick 20 minute session of a shoulder workout at home.

My goal is to maintain an aesthetic and symmetrical muscularity while minimizing body fat, therefore I incorporated a bodybuilding routine as my workout. A bodybuilding workout places primary focus on aesthetic appeal rather than strength, speed, building a good core, or endurance. Of course, the latter can develop as a result of a bodybuilding regime, but the main goal is to look good naked in front of an audience.

I tend to switch out my routine to avoid hitting a physical plateau, or just to avoid boredom. I don't always do chest and back on Mondays followed by legs on the next training day. Sometimes I'll train back with legs. Therefore, I'll list several sample routines that I rotate. 

Sample routine 1:

 Workout # 1 (Chest, Shoulders, Triceps):

-Chest Warm Up (Fly's or pushups)
-Incline Bench (barbell or dumbbells)  x 4  repetitions
-Decline Bench (barbell or dumbbells)  x 4  repetitions
-Fly's (machine or dumbbells) x 4 repetitions

-Rear deltoids x 4 repetitions  (I train rear deltoids first because these are often neglected. Here's a link of a rear deltoid workout:
-Upright rows (barbell or dumbbells)  x 4  repetitions
 Front Raises (dumbbells) x repetitions
-Side raises (dumbbells or cable machine) x 5 repetitions

-Pullovers (machine or dumbell) x 4 repetitions
-Tricep extension x 4 repetitions
-Skullcrushers x 4 repetitions

-Calf Raises x 8 repetitions

 Workout #2 (Legs):

-Squats x 5 repetitions (do leg press if you have a bad back)
-straight leg deadlift or good-mornings x 5 repetitions
-Leg extensions x 3 repetitions
-Leg curls x 3 repetitions
-Abdominal workout x 5 repetitions

Workout #3 (Back, Biceps):

-Bent over rows x 6 repetitions
-Cable rows x 6 repetitions
-Pull downs or pull ups x 5 repetitions
-Lower back extensions x 4 repetitions

-barbell curls x 4 repetitions
-dumbbell or cable curls x 3 repetitions
-forearm workout

-Calf Raises x 8 repetitions

After workout #3, take a break from weight lifting for a day or two and repeat the routine. Doing cardio or staying active on rest days is fine.

Sample Routine 2:

Workout #1 (Push Muscle Day):

-Squats x 5 repetitions
-Leg extensions x 3 repetitions
-Incline bench x 3 repetitions 
-decline bench x 3 repetitions
-pullovers x 3 repetitions
-front raises x 3 repetitions
-side raises x 4 repetitions
-rear deltoids exercise x 3 repetitions
-triceps extension x 5 repetitions
-calf raises x 5 repetitions

Workout #2 (Pull Muscle Day):

-straight leg deadlifts or good-mornings x 5 repetitions
-leg curls (machine) x 3 repetitions
-cable rows x 4 repetitions
-pulldowns (machine) or pull ups x 4 repetitions
-lower back extensions x 4 repetitions
-straight bar bicep curl x 4 repetitions
-isolated dumbbell curl x 3 repetitions
-forearms exercise x 3 repetitions
-abdominal exercise x 4 repetitions
-calf raises x 5 repetitions


My routine is not the ultimate routine or perfect. It's actually very basic and prone to change depending who I'm working out with or how often I'm hitting the gym. I'm simply sharing due to requests. If you're interested in developing a routine, I strongly suggest that you research your own routines, especially ones that better suited to your style and goals. Here are two books that I found to be valuable:

- Sliced by Bill Reynolds and Negrita Jayde (thanks to the Abdominator for letting me borrow it)
- The Encyclopedia of Modern Bodybuilding by Arnold Schwarzenegger

Monday, November 19, 2012

Too Much Information

I'm still getting a lot of e-mails from aspiring male strippers wanting a job or an agent. These guys are providing detailed descriptions of themselves, which include height, weight, degree of muscularity, types of personality they have, pictures, and even their penis size. Seriously guys, why are you telling me the size of your penis? What am I going to do with that information? There is not a single page on this whole blog that requests penis sizes from aspiring male strippers, yet you guys tell me anyway. One guy even divulged about how his penis was "uncut," had a "wide gerth," and was "aesthetically pleasant to look at." Yeah, those tidbits will definitely help with the hiring process. Be sure to tell every agent that (insert sarcasm).

However, a new thought occurred to me as a result from all of these e-mails.  I'm slowly beginning to to think that I should become an agent myself since I have no shortage of applicants. These e-mail would become quite useful and possibly profitable. This is just a thought for now, and it's definitely not a request for more descriptions of penises.

I'm still working on replying on the other 'normal' e-mails as well; I'm not ignoring you.

I plan to update the "Male Stripper Stories" tab above to include some more of both the newer and older stories. Think it of as a revised table of contents. Keep checking back in the next week for a new story---it's written but needs proofreading.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Back From NYC

Looks like another video will make appearance soon. 

Earlier this week, I was in New York City filming for part of a series that focused on strange and uncommon jobs. My segment was going to be called "Confessions of a Male Dancer" and it should debut in a month or two.

Adam, the producer (really cool guy too), contacted me a few weeks ago and asked if I would do it. After sorting out our schedules, we came to a deal, and his company flew me up to New York and booked me a hotel room in Manhattan. We filmed on Tuesday.

I must admit that I was feeling a bit nervous and out of my element. I am used to stripping for a bachelorette or birthday party in a small living room, but not performing on camera in a t.v. studio. The pressure to do well increased tenfold. Adam and his staff were really friendly and easygoing though, and I felt very comfortable working with them and even enjoyed myself on the set. I just hope I provided them with some good content in the end.

We'll see the final product soon. I'll post a link to it once it's complete. Many thanks to Adam and his crew for having me. I'll also make a post later about my limited impressions of New York.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Male Revue - November 7, 2012

The last time I did a male revue show was in the spring of 2005 just before I left to teach in Japan. On Wednesday, November 7 of 2012, my agent contacted me in the morning to do a male revue with four other guys. Being fairly burned out on stripping at private parties, I figured that the male revue would bring a much needed variety to the monotony of my typical bachelorette parties, so I accepted the gig.

The revue took place at a small bar in the southern tip of Alabama. I arrived thirty minutes early and entered through the front. As soon as I walked inside the bar, I saw around forty to fifty girls. The only men in the establishment were the DJ, the owner, and the bartender. The women, upon noticing me, began to cheer. I smiled, waved, and made my way to the dressing room in the back.

The dressing room was more of a large storage area with a couch than an actual dressing room, and it was there where I met the four other male dancers.  Their presence made a huge difference in my routine. I haven't met another male dancer in person since my last all-male revue in 2005, so I was pleasantly surprised to share stories with other guys in my occupation. Even though I had just met these guys, I felt that we had a lot in common due to having similar experiences.

The four male dancers differed in appearance, style, and attitude. They all came from Georgia out of the same agency and drove at least six hours just to perform for a $150 down payment. They introduced themselves to me with their stage names: Roman, Dakota, Sebastian, and Jay.

Roman, who was the shortest, had the broadest and most muscular build. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and had a quiet demeanor. He was also the rookie of the group with only two months of experience under his belt. I imagined that his personality would become more gregarious the longer he worked as a stripper. To emphasize his stage name, Roman wore a toga and a helmet for his performance.

Dakota reminded me of Boromir from Lord of the Rings. He was looked like he was around forty, considering the abundance of lines on his face including crow's feet. Rather than being clean cut, he had a scruffy appearance, accented with his shaggy hair and beard. All he needed was a sword and he would look ready to embark on a journey with some hobbits. Instead, he wore a construction worker outfit. Dakota was flirting and touching at every woman that would walk by us. He even made a pass at the bar owner's wife, angering the bar owner in the process. Dakota told me that he only stripped for a living and did no other work, which made me grateful that I had a full time job; I did not want to be like Dakota in ten years. 

Sebastian was very tall, blonde, and lean. He had an extremely personable and friendly approach, giving almost anyone the impression that they could tell him anything. Like me, Sebastian had been stripping for several years and chalked up quite a bit of wisdom in the field. He wore a police shirt with leather chaps. He also had a full time office job where he made good money.

The last male dancer, Jay, had also been stripping for awhile and was a bit older than the rest. He was latino and was almost as broad and muscular as Roman. From what he told me, he seemed to be transitioning from male stripper into an agent. He helped organize this event and got the other three dancers this gig. Jay's outfit was simply a dress shirt and khaki pants. Jay was balding, but sprayed some fake black hair residue onto his head to give the impression that he had more hair. Unfortunately, the fake hair residence looked so out of place that I could not help but stare at Jay's actual bald spot on his head.

Jay had arranged the order of who would go on stage and perform first, starting with Sebastian, then Roman, Dakota, followed by Jay, and me going last. I noticed that the other guys were drinking alcohol to "loosen up" before the show. One of them marveled about how I was going to perform sober. I simply replied that I didn't drink, which was true. I never drink. Alcohol causes disastrous consequences, especially when stripping. A drunk male stripper's performance becomes more sloppy, the risk of accidents increases, and his self-awareness decreases, resulting in lost tips. Besides, drinking before every performance would pack on body fat before long.

Dakota outdid everyone by guzzling beer after beer. He smoked cigarette after cigarette, choking the dressing room full of smoke. The bar owner, a stocky middle aged man, watched Dakota flick a few ashes onto the floor and frowned in disapproval. Noticing the bar owner nearby, Dakota turned and smiled. "Hey man, you don't mind we bring some girls back here to hook up, do you? I promise I won't leave any stains."

The bartender was not amused and seemed irritated from Dakota's earlier advances on his wife. He muttered a sarcastic remark and left the room. Soon after, the DJ entered and asked all of us which songs we preferred. A pregnant brunette brunette girl accompanied him. Dakota introduced himself to her and began to rub her round belly and the DJ looked at him in shock. She introduced herself and the DJ, emphasizing to Dakota that the DJ was her boyfriend. Dakota quickly withdrew his hand. We all gave the DJ our preferred songs. I told the DJ that he could play anything he wanted.

After the DJ left, Dakota turned to us, took a swig of his beer and laughed. "Oh shit, man!" he said. "I didn't know that was the DJ's girlfriend, and here I was all feeling her up in front of him."

"That's why I don't feel up every girl," I said.

Dakota shrugged. "It's all good, man."

Sebastian shook his head. "Not if the boyfriend wants to kill you, it's not."

Dakota continued drinking, dropping his wrench from his tool pouch multiple times and not noticing due to his inebriated condition. The metal wrench hit the concrete floor with a loud 'clang,' and I imagined that it would break some poor girl's foot before the night was over. The more Dakota drank, the more outlandish his behavior became.

"You gotta be careful with threesomes with your girlfriend," Dakota began on one of tales. "Don't cum in the other girl. Pull out and cum in your girlfriend and tell her that she's the only one who can make you cum. Girls like that shit!"

I shook my head and chuckled. Apparently Dakota's outer appearance had aged, but his mind had not progressed much since he was twenty.

The owner and his wife came in and I talked with them awhile. The owner and I talked about earning revenue and running a business. He said, "Dion, was it? I like you. Next time I have a male revue, I'm calling you. You're local." He gestured towards Dakota. "I definitely don't want to hire this dick cheese again."

Outside, I heard the girls cheer and scream as the DJ announced that the male dancers were coming up. Roman adjusted his toga, Sebastian donned on his police uniform, and Jay rehearsed the order one final time with us. Then, the show began... For the other guys.

I did not see the performance, because I was scheduled to go last and had to wait in the dressing room the entire time. However, the bar owner's wife came in and talked to me for awhile. She told me that she and her friends were eager to see me because they really liked how I looked. She then hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, and told me that she wanted me to return to strip again even though I had yet to perform. She reeked of perfume and sweet, alcoholic drinks.
Sebastian taking money from cleavage.

Because she was so nice to me, I decided to ask her a favor. "Can you take some pictures of the show for me?" I said, handing her my Nikon camera.

She looked ecstatic. "Of course!" she said. She took the camera and began snapping random photos of us in the dressing room, then and she went out into the crowd. She staggered about drunk as she took the pictures, and I worried whether she would drop and break my expensive camera.

My initial appearance.
An hour passed before it was my turn. When I finally emerged out into the crowd, I searched out the girls with the money. Unlike my private parties where the girls usually paid me a set amount of money and tips regardless of what I do, I had to actually interact with each girl to earn my tips here. Some girls in the audience had money while others did not. The girls that carried a lot of money congregated near the front, sitting in a cluster. The other male dancers referred to this area as "hot seats" where the money was at. The point of the male revue was interact as much as possible in the areas with the hot seats in order to earn as much money as possible. The hot seats usually consist of older, less attractive women, but not always, and they continuously tip. 

Throughout the performance, I noticed some interesting aspects from the other dancers. Dakota was an extremely good dancer, and he wore garters on his arms to collect money. Roman wore sandals to avoid walking barefoot on the floor. Sebastian tucked the excess money into his boots when his thong could not hold any more; he further elaborated that money falls out of thongs after awhile, but not the boots. Sebastian mentioned to me that he used humor and conversation with women instead of intimate contact to earn money. I saw that Dakota used his dancing skills and humor. Roman simply danced. I did not see how Jay performed.

Bending a girl over a table.
After the performance, we all went back to the dressing room. The bar began to let men inside. Unfortunately for them, most of the women had already left. Roman and Jay got dressed first, grabbed their belongings. They shook my hand and left. Sebastian and I remained behind, trading stories about wild and strange parties.

Dakota interrupted us because he had difficulty finding his jeans. They were not in the dressing room. He stalked about agitated and drunk. He left the dressing room and disappeared, swearing and kicking at his suitcase on the floor. Several minutes later, he stormed back into the dressing room with his jeans, but complained that his money was missing from the pockets. Apparently when he had stripped from earlier, he threw his jeans onto the floor in front of  a group of girls instead of onstage behind the DJ. One of the girls grabbed his jeans, rifled through the pockets, took the money, and threw the jeans outside the bar. Vowing revenge, Dakota began his drunken investigation of discovering who the culprit was. Several employees told him that it was a regular named Megan who took Dakota's jeans. They told him she went to another bar down the street.

"I'm going to catch that fuckin' bitch," Dakota yelled at me as I was heading toward the bathroom, causing several girls walking by to turn and look at him in alarm. "And when I do, I'm gonna make her pay me back even more money, and then I'm gonna slap the shit out of her till you can't recognize her face!"

The group of girls looked horrified and scampered away in haste. I tried to reason with Dakota and suggested that he call the police and file a theft report. "Have the police respond here," I told him. "You have several witnesses here who know her and saw her take your jeans, and multiple cameras that possibly caught her in the act. It'd be easy for them to figure it out."

"No, I'm going to confront that bitch myself and beat the shit out of her. That bitch took 150 dollars from me. Now I don't even have gas money to get home!"

"Don't do it," I warned. "Jail will cost you more in the meantime."

"I don't care if I get 99 years, I'm going to make that bitch pay," Dakota said. "No one steals from me! Besides, when I get done slapping her, she won't even dare talk about it."

Dakota grabbed his things and walked out of the bar. Sebastian, who was listening nearby, came up to me worried. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Probably not," I said. "He seems hell bent on going to jail tonight. He's probably going to hit that girl and get his ass beat by her friends."

"Maybe I should try and talk to him..." Sebastian began.

"He won't listen," I said. "I tried to reason with him. He seems eager to beat that girl up. Watch it not be the person who took his money too."

Sebastian nodded. "Yeah, man. We're not his babysitters."

As we stared towards the bar door where Dakota left, three girls from the show approached to go towards the bar. I recognized them since I danced with them earlier and two of them had nice, fake breasts. Sebastian intercepted them. At first, they seemed eager to talk with him, but after awhile, they lost interest and went to the bar.

"You see that?" Sebastian said, laughing. "During the show they were all over me, but once the show is over, I'm a normal guy again. It happens all the time!"

He was right too. As we walked towards the front door to leave, the remaining girls in the bar who grabbed, fondled, and danced with us earlier just ignored us on our way out. When we debuted in our costumes and our thongs, they waved money at us and vied for our attention. Now that we had our street clothes on, we became ordinary men again.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

November 7th, 2012

  I mentioned about updating with more stories recently and had the best intentions of doing so. However, life continues to hand me other obligations that limit my free time. I should be grateful, I suppose, since there is never a dull moment. Still, I would love nothing more than to give this site the update it deserves.

Tonight, I have a male-revue to perform at a venue. This will be my first time doing such a performance since 2005. Next week, I will fly up to New York City in reference to getting filmed as part of a video series regarding my male stripping job. The producer sounds like a nice person and I have never been to New York before, so I'm looking forward to the experience. Being from the South, the only thing I'm not looking forward to is the cold weather.

Well, I'm off to prepare for the male revue. I'll bring a camera and try to take some pictures if possible.

In case you missed my update earlier today, here is the previous post: Debunking Stereotypes

Debunking Stereotypes: The Gay Myth

Stereotypes persist through every facet of life. People make assumptions based on appearances, ethnicity, nationality, income, and demeanor; it's reality and male strippers are no exception. As the saying goes: "Stereotypes exist because they are grounded in truth." Well, I will clarify that when it comes to male stripping, stereotypes are a load of bullshit, and I will debunk the most common one: The stereotype that claims most male strippers are gay.

I have heard this stereotype since the time I had started almost ten years ago until now. Many women at my shows have asked me if I was gay. When I asked them what gave them such an idea, they would respond by saying, "Oh, we just heard that male strippers tend to be gay." I would follow up and ask them where they heard that rumor from, and they would either fail to elaborate or provide me with a vague answer like, "I just heard from people." This concept has about as much merit as the stereotype that all muscular guys work out to compensate for a small penis rather than the obvious and most likely objectives of losing fat or getting in shape. I can't blame these women for their lack of knowledge though. Male dancers exist few and far between, so a shroud of mystery surrounds the profession leaving room for a lot of speculation and assumptions. 

Nonetheless, categorizing most male strippers as gay is unrealistic, because one of the main motives for a man to become a male stripper is the thrill of interacting with a lot of women. Of course the easy money offers some temptation, but idea of getting physical with women for money provides a major incentive for straight men everywhere. For example, if I brought a gay man and a straight man into a room full of attractive women and asked them to strip and mingle, then one can conclude that the straight man would do so with much more enthusiasm and desire. If a male stripper were gay, he would have more reason to flock towards gay male audiences since men usually pay more. 

Now there are exceptions. Some gay male strippers like to strip for female audiences, but they are so uncommon that they fail to warrant the stereotype that all male strippers are gay. There are also straight guys who strip for a gay audience to increase their pay and amount of work, but their sexual orientation still leans towards women unless they are paid enough to change their minds for a night. Such work is called "gay-for-pay" work. These guys start strip for male audiences, doing private one-on-one shows, muscle worship sessions, and even doing gay porn. Yet, these guys have moved beyond the bachelorette or sorority parties full of women only where the pay is less.  

However, when it comes to stripping for female audiences, the majority of applicants will be straight guys, ready to live out their dreams of being the sole object of attention from a throng of eager women. This is evident by the overwhelming amount of straight guys who e-mail me wanting to become male strippers. These guys make up the bulk of what male stripping is about.

As for me, when I first I got into this profession, I did it half for the easy money and half to indulge in my desire to play out my exhibitionist fantasy for women. I wanted to take off my clothes for women and have them grope me, caress me, and admire me. I wanted to excite women to the point where they wanted to seduce me. I found the idea of women treating me like a sex object stimulating, and this job offered me the perfect opportunity to fill in that role. Now if all the women at my parties knew this, they would probably think of me as a pervert instead of asking if I were gay.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Navigating This Site

In the past two weeks, I have received a ton of e-mails and questions from guys wanting to become male strippers. Okay, I always receive a lot of e-mail of the sort, but these past two weeks brought a huge influx of them. I had already answered most of these questions in the "Male Stripping Requirements" post. For those who don't know, you can easily navigate there by clicking "FAQ" located on the horizontal tab above this post. Moreover, you can navigate through the pictures and some stories too.

As for stories, I'm taking down "The Raven Haired Girl" for now. She did an internet search on me and found my blog. She browsed through every story, all of the pictures, did the math, and summed up that the Dion on this blog and the Dion that came to her party are the same person. She also didn't like the story about her either and asked if I would take it down, mentioning that I made it sound like porn, so I did. I would ask her to write her own version of the event, but I doubt she would. Besides, her spelling sucks. Sorry Brittany, but it does. That also means no pics of her for you readers (sorry, I tried to ask).

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Advice: Building Yourself

Occasionally, some requests will come my way asking how to get girls. Being the guy that started at the bottom of the totem pole, I try to offer helpful advice in any way I can. 

Chance, another male stripper, commented on one of my posts about taking responsibility and building yourself for better. In fact, his comment summed up the reality of getting girls better than anything I can conjure up. Below is the following comment he posted:

A man becomes attractive to a woman when he is passionate about something. A man must make his life mission his top priority before and above a woman.

This is to say: If you are finding ways to consistently better yourself; women will become attracted to the project in motion, not necessarily the end result.

You can start by doing this many ways: 
- Hit the gym (health, physique, confidence)
- Start a business (Money, status)
- Create style in your wardrobe (Status, style)
- Restore an old car to new condition
- etc, etc.

The whole point here is you are doing something that you are passionate about and it will help you grow as a person. More importantly, a woman will see that she is not your top priority and will fight for that position; although subconsciously she doesn't want to be top rung on your ladder.

Poster #1 has a typical loser mentality with "Dion has muscles, so he can get girls with a snap of his fingers". (Shake my head)

This further proves my point. What is Dion doing that you aren't poster #1? He is hitting the gym 3+ times a week as well as watching his diet.

If you knew that muscles attract women, wouldn't you hit the gym as well? No, you wouldn't.

If you knew money attracted women, wouldn't you attempt a business or further your education in hopes of climbing the corporate ladder? Probably not.

I am also a male stripper and can tell you that I am approached 10 fold while stripping because all of my qualities are on display (Muscular, confident, socially adept, money oriented, etc.) - It is not the title of a male stripper that truly turns women on; it is the qualities associated with such a task that make their pussy tingle. Not to mention other girls going crazy for you - women are way more competitive than men.

Bottom Line - Make your mission your priority, not women. If you build it (Yourself), they will come (bitches).

Chance made some great points. When I first started stripping, I was just a college student who attended school full-time, lived in an apartment, had little life experience with no other extravagant qualities. Even though I was a young, 21 year old stripper, I wasn't getting even a fraction of them women that approach me now that I'm 31 years old. Throughout the years, I became a teacher, worked in accounting, publishing, etc. I have a good full-time job now, a house, savings, investments, no debt, and even more goals to propel myself forward. It's not just the fact that I have money, assets, and a good life that women find attractive. It's the motivation, drive, aspirations, and the ability to take care of myself that lures them.

Setting goals and standards garnish respect and admiration. When you achieve those goals, set new ones and increase your standards. For example, I still train to further improve my body. I strive to learn more skills to better myself. I constantly improve my house and the condition of my life. 

 A lot of people refuse to improve themselves, resigning to a fate of mediocrity and sloth. For instance, take the obese guy who refuses to go to the gym, giving up on the prospects of improving his own physical health and appearance. Instead, he goes to the nearest buffet and stuffs himself. Another example lies in the starving artist college student. He takes out a huge student loan and gets a degree in art, creative writing, music, or philosophy, then he finds out he can't do shit with the degree afterwards and whines about needing government handouts because he can't earn any money. What he should have done was learn other skills or trades that would have earned him a spot in the work force. Hell, if it came down to earning money, I would scrub toilets for a living if I had to. What's sad is that a huge number of people promote a lazy attitude when it comes to advancing themselves in life.

So instead of lamenting about what you don't have in life, look for ways to improve yourself. Like Chance said, "if you build it, they will come." This quote not only applies for getting women, but for general success in life. 

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Male vs. Female Stripping

From: Debi Sens
Subject: male stripper questions!


Hi, I am not sure if you are still accepting questions or not but I have a few.

Does being a male stripper make you think differently towards women? Like, did you become more mysoginistic? I read some female stripper blogs and a few of them admitted it sort of made them not like men as much?

Also if you can answer this do you think there are many differences of experiences between male and female strippers?



My Response:

I would say that male stripping has made me think a little differently toward women, but with a wiser mindset rather than a negative one. I don't think I have become more misogynistic (though some readers would argue otherwise). Most women at my parties treat me exceptionally well, pay me more than necessary, and overall spoil me. Of course, I see a few women who behave rather ill for being married or engaged, but I have also seen just as many carry a remarkable amount of devotion and respect.

Regarding female strippers disliking men as a result of their job, I have also read a few female stripper stories and some of them tend to cast men in a negative role, but that's because those strip clubs where they work tend to attract the seedier types of society. My job proves the contrary. The type of women who hire me tend to be middle to upper class without criminal history or a perverted agenda.  I tend to like most of the female clientele I deal with. I have a lot of fun at my parties and often look forward to working them.

As far as differences between male and female strippers, I think they can be quite similar and different at the same time. In my case, stripping only supplements my income. I have an actual full time job while I just strip on the side for extra cash. Many female strippers tend to focus on stripping as their full time job. Moreover, providing amusement and entertainment remain my top priorities at my show, while turning the crowd on comes as a secondary result. Female strippers sexually stimulate their male audience as a top priority, or least that is my perception. Beyond that, male and female strippers dance to music and strip. 

Overall, I don't feel as though I sacrifice dignity when stripping for a crowd of females, but gain a sense of empowerment instead. Whereas most men have to work hard to physically interact with women, I get to do so with ease while getting paid.


Monday, September 24, 2012

Party Log: September 22, 2012

Location:  Beach Condo on Florida's Panhandle
10 Girls
Bachelorette Party
Requested Costume: Police

The party was originally scheduled for Friday, but the girls shifted it to Saturday due to two of them unable to come down to Florida in time. Lucky for them, I was able to accommodate this change, otherwise they would have been without a stripper. Unfortunately, my performance fell in the range of sub-par. I just wasn't feeling the vibe with this party and perhaps that was due partly to my lack of motivation. I'm going through another phase where I feel burned out on stripping. Overall, I still had some fun since the girls treated me well. Here were the highlights of the party:

- The bachelorette asked me if I had seen the movie, Magic Mike, or read Fifty Shades of Gray. I told her that I had not for either. I have failed to mention this in previously, but many girls at my shows have been asking me these questions recently.

- The bachelorette requested that I make out with one of her friends named Lauren. Lauren was a tall, young blonde girl who reminded me of one of those stuck-up girls in high school due to her bossy attitude and spoiled nature. She had a beautiful face when she wasn't making demands or scowling. The bachelorette told me that Lauren hadn't been laid or had a boyfriend in a long time, and I could easily see why. Nevertheless, I complied with bachelorette's wish and made out with Lauren, who initially objected, but soon acquiesced and even extended the kiss.

- The bachelorette began to feel sick after awhile. The other girls forced alcoholic drinks on her all day, and the over-imbibing was finally catching up. She disappeared into the bathroom in the midst of my performance and that was the last of I had seen of her.

- On my way out, Lauren offered to help me carry my belongings. When she spoke to me, her voice was in a higher pitch than usual. I politely declined, but she walked me to the door and hugged me anyway.


Thursday, September 13, 2012

Lessons From The Elders

I went to the gym today to train my upper body, which was mostly chest and back. While doing the bench press, an older man approached me and asked if he could work out with me since all of the other flat benches were taken. The older man had muscles that appeared to stretch the limits of his t-shirt. He had gray hair, was a little taller than me, and had a friendly attitude.

We both benched 135 pounds for our warm-up. I eventually went up to 225 pounds for 8 repetitions. The old man matched me. I did one more set with 225 pounds and was done. The old man continued to add more weight, going up to 315 pounds. He lifted that with ease. He finished his last set at 385 pounds.

The fact that this old man lifted that much weight did not surprise me. It was his age that did. He was 70 years old.

The old man told me that he ate a healthy diet, which included a lot of vegetables. He avoided sweets, fast food, and did not smoke or drink alcohol. He worked out five times a week. The way he talked was full of clarity and focus. His posture was upright and full of vigor like he was still twenty years old and in the military.

Just being in this man's presence filled me with motivation for training and taking care of myself in the future. After doing bench presses with the old man, I had one of the most productive work outs in a long while. When I become old, I want to be like that man.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

More Hate Mail

Little did I know that when starting a blog about male stripping, I would receive a lot of advice from self-proclaimed mental health experts. I feel so appreciative that these people would take time to provide me with their psychoanalytical observations.

1.) From: Cindy (last name and e-mail omitted)

Subject: Your Blog


Dear Dion:

A friend of mine referred me to your blog and I read it thinking it would be a good read. It was quite the contrary. I was treated to narcissistic ramblings of a douchebag. Your writing is unintelligent and uninspiring. You treat having sex with women like its a conquest but you are nothing more than a male whore. At the rate you are going you will grow old and ugly and alone. Your blog is nothing more than your own personal fan fiction to praise yourself.

You need some serious help.

My Response: Hi Cindy. Thank you for taking your time to read through my blog and, better yet, give me your professional opinion. I was completely unaware that I needed help.

I'm still working on the growing old, ugly, and alone part, but I'll get there someday. In the meantime, I'm just going to keep enjoying myself.


2. From: Andrew (last name and e-mail omitted)

Subject: Nice Blog


Hey Dion, just curious. Have you ever been molested as a little kid? Is that why your such a prick? Must make you feel like a man to mess with another man's woman and write about it eh. Mommy must not have loved you enough as a kid.

My Response: Oh no... My horrible secret revealed!


3. From: Anonymous (From the comments section here)


...if your gonna sleep with a married/engaged/attached women then you should expect to either get your ass kicked or the boyfriend to say some shit. I know people are responsible for their own actions but at the same time, your just as, if not, more responsible since your able to stop it in the first place, but thats just my opinion on the matter.

My Response: So if a married/engaged/attached woman tries to sleep with me, how exactly do I bear more responsibility than her for her infidelity? I can understand the half and half thing even though I'm not the one in the relationship, but more!?


(The below e-mail has a different tone than the ones above, but I thought to include it here because it contains a trace of envy.)

4.) From: Christopher (last name and e-mail omitted)



Cool blog dude. Your job sounds awesome and I want to become a male stripper too. No offense but i saw your pics and I am WAY better built than you. im 6'3 and 230 lbs 8% body fat. My biceps are 17 inch and I have a six pack and my cock is almost 10 inches. Girls tell me I am good lookin all teh time. I think have the confidence, personality, and looks for the job. Do you have a agent you can recommend? i live near toronto.

My response: Let me get this straight, Christopher... You're telling me that how much better you are than me while at the same time asking for a favor? Yeah, you should definitely get into stripping with that mindset. I'm sure the ladies will love to hear you gloat about how awesome you are. Don't mind them when they roll their eyes at you in disgust; they're just jealous their husbands/boyfriends pale in comparison to you.

In fact, I don't need to recommend an agent to you. You have the confidence, personality and looks, so good agents should be hunting you down and knocking at your door to hire you. Let me know how the job situation goes.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Party Log: September 1, 2012

Panama City Beach

Bachelorette Party

9:00 P.M.

6 Girls

Driving through the country roads of northwest Florida resembles the countryside of Alabama and many parts of Georgia. Farm lands, forests, and dirt roads take up a good portion of scenery. Therefore, my GPS, being a few years old without any updates, doesn't show all of the roads in the countryside. That is how I found myself down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, quite a distance north of Panama City. Or should I say, that is how I found my vehicle stuck a foot deep in mud in the middle of the woods.

It was dark and I could not see beyond my headlights on a wet dirt road. The excessive rain from Hurricane Isaac left much of the Panhandle of Florida drenched. I was on my way to a bachelorette party in Panama City and was aiming for the fastest route there. I knew I should have turned around, but according to my GPS, I was only a mile away from a highway, so I continued my course... And my car wound up stuck in a foot of mud. My car has all-wheel-drive, so I tried setting it to that, but it wouldn't even budge. Pushing the car out was impossible. I was stranded in the middle of the forest on an unnamed dirt road with a party starting within an hour.

So I had to do something that I didn't want to do. Call for help.

I dialed 911 and told them the closet street name on my GPS. The dispatcher wanted me to go to the actual street to meet an officer, so I had to trek through the mud, soaking my tennis shoes and socks with brown muck, then cut through a patch of woods to get a road. After a few minutes, I was drenched in sweat. If I somehow managed my way out of this situation, then I would still arrive at the party looking like I came from a week-long hunting trip.

After stumbling through the underbrush, mud, and several puddles, I made it onto a nearby road and waited for an officer to come. Meanwhile, I called one of the girls at the party and told her my situation and that I was going to be late. She seemed unperturbed, and told me to call once I was on the road again. The wait for the officer only took five minutes even though my location was in the middle of nowhere. When the officer arrived, a familiar face stepped out of the patrol car, and he looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"Dion! What's up, man!" he called out, smiling.

"Oh shit! Matt?! Is that you?"

Matt and I met in college and had a lot of classes together. We often worked out together after class. Matt towered over me by a few inches and he still wore his trademark mustache. He had a gregarious and easygoing personality, so I got along with him well enough although we went our separate ways after college. This coincidental meeting marking the first time I had seen him since then.

"So how'd you get stuck way out here?" he asked.

"My GPS sucks and I got stuck on a dirt road nearby," I said.

"That's not a dirt road," he laughed. "That's where they're laying the new pipeline."

"Well, shit..."

"So where were you headed to?" he asked.

"Same ole... I gotta show in Panama City," I said.

He grinned. "Still doing that? That's awesome, man."

"Yeah, but I'm going to be late at this rate..."

Matt frowned in thought for a moment, then pulled out his cellphone. "Hold on. Let me call a friend. He lives just down the road from here." Matt dialed the number and spoke with someone for a few minutes. Afterward, he closed his cellphone and said, "My friend is on his way. Is twenty dollars too much for you?"

I was ecstatic. "That's more than reasonable!" I said. While we were waiting, We traded stories on what we had been doing since college. I told him about my normal job and he told me about his. We talked a little about 'good ole days' in college, then about the present and my upcoming party. "Hey, think the girls would mind if I showed up with you like this?" Matt said, pointing to his uniform and grinning.

"Not at all. Your sergeant might though."

"So how much they paying you?" Matt asked.

"More than you're making tonight," I said.

Matt guffawed. "Ain't that the truth."

Matt's friend soon arrived in a tow-truck. Matt introduced his friend to me, but I did not remember his name. His friend attached a tow line to my vehicle, which had sunken even more into the mud, and used a machine to reel my vehicle out like a fish. It was a time consuming process, and Matt had to leave to take another more important call. He shook my hand before he left.

"Dion, it was great seeing you again, man. Take care of yourself."

"You too," I said. "Stay safe out there."

After Matt left, his friend finished pulling my vehicle from out of the muck. I only had to pay twenty dollars since I was a friend of Matt's. I thanked the tow truck driver and was on my way to the party once again, but this time with shoes and socks soaked and caked with mud.

Prior to arriving at the party, I stopped at a country gas station with a water hose, took off my shoes and rinsed the mud off of my feet. I had an extra pair of socks in my car along with my stripper boots for the party. My stripper boots were black, patent leather, knee-high boots, that had a zipper that zipped up along the calf. They were ideal for my shows but not as primary footwear. It looked like I was going to wear them a bit earlier tonight.

After cleaning myself up at the gas station, I was blazing down the road again and arrived only twenty minutes late. This particular party took place at a rental cottage near Panama City Beach. The rental cottage was in a residential community with a guard gate posted at the entrance. I had to tell the guard my name and the name and address of the person I was going to visit. The guard allowed me in without any objections or issues.

At the cottage, I pulled into the driveway. A girl named Erin came outside to pay me. As I spoke with her about what I would do, I changed into my police outfit. It was almost thirty minutes after nine o'clock at night, so no one was going to see me. Erin seemed a little surprised, especially when I stripped down to my thong in the driveway, but I told her, "You're going to see me almost naked in a few minutes anyway."

"That's true," she said with a giggle.

After paying me, Erin went back inside. I finished donning on my uniform and approached the front door under the facade that 'someone had called the police for a noise complaint.' Erin answered the door and invited me inside. There were six girls total, and I spotted the bachelorette immediately. She was a tanned brunette wearing a pink, one-piece dress that had a white ribbon draped across with the word, 'bachelorette,' emblazoned in shiny, silver letters.

My 'noise complaint' act went without a stutter. I announced that the neighbors in the other cottages were complaining that the girls being too loud outside...And the bachelorette wasn't buying it.

She laughed and beckoned me to arrest her. From there, I stripped and dry-humped each and every girl at that party. What made this party interesting was the fact that every girl either wore a one-piece dress or a short skirt. When I would place a girl on the couch or floor to emulate humping her in a missionary position, her dress would hike up to reveal her underwear. Most of these girls had g-strings on, so when I would grind against them, only the thin fabric of my thong and theirs separated us. The girls encouraged each other to participate in this activity; I did not have to say a word, but merely accepted whoever was pushed and jostled toward my direction.

During the commotion, one of the girls placed a pink, circular sticker on my ass that read, "TIGHT BUNS." Another girl had flavored lube that she pour and lathered onto my chest, legs, and ass. The girls also had glow-in-the-dark bracelets. The sole red-haired girl at the party attempted to reach down place the bracelet around my cock and balls like a cock ring. However, the bracelet unsnapped open every time she tried.

Overall, I had immense fun at this party. They invited me to stay, but I had work the next day and needed rest. The tip money they left me covered the twenty-dollar towing fee multiple times over. The night might have started out hopeless and shitty, but it ended with me driving home content and well-paid.

Friday, August 31, 2012

Highlights From June 2012

Orange Beach, Alabama


Bachelorette Party

This show took place at a condo with at least twenty girls in attendance. The bachelorette called me "David" because I looked like her soon-to-be husband. When another girl attempted to stick a dollar bill up the bachelorette's skirt for me to fish out with my mouth, the bachelorette quickly snapped her legs together and said, "No, don't let him go there! I'm on the rag!"

During my performance, the bachelorette demanded that I treat her "respectfully" because she was getting married. Next, she proceeded to aggressively rub her ass against my crouch, which I would enjoyed had I not been constantly thinking about the fact that she was 'on the rag.' After that, she made multiple requests to see my cock.

The bachelorette insisted that I dance with her as she went to the center of the living room and initiated a dance that reminded me more of a drunken chicken flapping around in place. At some point during her strange ritual, she launched a few kicks in the air as part of her dance. I ducked away and avoided several drunken and flailing kicks, but one caught me with a glancing blow to the face. I ended the show then and there.

The bachelorette apologized, kissed the area where she kicked me, and then got some ice packed into a ziplock bag and began to nurse and baby me. She then fixed me some dinner, so all was forgiven.

When I gathered my things and was walking toward the front door, the bachelorette asked once more for me to 'pull out my cock and jack off' for her. Clutching the ice pack to my face, I shook my head and walked out the door.


Mobile, Alabama


Bachelorette Party

This show took place in nice house in a subdivision on the outskirts of Mobile. Per my request, my company does not have a picture or profile of me available to the public, so Selena, the girl who hired me for the bachelorette party, had a few questions when I called her prior to the party.

Selena (speaking with a Spanish accent): What's your name?

Me: Dion.

Selena: What do you look like?

Me: What do you mean?

Selena: What color are your eyes and hair?

Me: Brown eyes, black hair.

I found this exchange between us rather odd since a girl has never asked me the color of my eyes prior to arriving for a show. Usually women take more interest in what I'm going to wear or what I'm going to do. When I arrived in front of the house, Selana came outside to meet me. Selena was an attractive Hispanic girl, her skin was dark olive, and she had long, flowing black hair and almond shaped eyes. Her face had an exotic grace that made her more attractive. Upon seeing me, Selena breathed a sigh of relief.

Selena: Oh, thank God you're white. I thought you were black.

Dion: Why's that?

Selena: Dion is usually name of black guy and you said you had brown eyes and black hair. The company did not have a picture of you, so I was worried.

I laughed. I was about to inform her that I was half Asian, but decided it was unnecessary. She paid me and I went inside and performed for approximately half a dozen girls. The girls proved to be a lively and receptive audience. Selena appeared to enjoy herself immensely when I interacted with her, as she caressed and grabbed me more than the other girls. After I finished the performance, Selena walked me to my car.

Selena (in her thick Spanish accent): Do you offer private lap dance?

Dion: What do you mean?

Selena: I want to hire you to strip for me. I want private show. No other girls.

Dion: Yes, I can do that. You got my number.

The private dance requests don't come too often, especially from someone as attractive as Selena. In fact, most men would pay her for a private show intead. Selena hugged me and kissed me before I got in my car and left, promising to hire me in the fall for her own birthday present.

That is one show I am eager to do.


Sunday, August 26, 2012

The Epidemic Blue Bean

Friday, August 25, 2012. 9 P.M.
Bachelorette Party
Gulf Shores, Alabama

A girl named Lacey hired me for Melissa's bachelorette party at a beach condo in Gulf Shores, Alabama. There were six girls ranging from ages 18 to 28 years old. All of the other girls knew that I was coming except for the bachelorette. When I contacted Lacey over the phone, she sounded friendly and easygoing, which is always a good sign."I don't know how the other girls are going to be," Lacey said. "This is the first time for everybody having a stripper."

"Don't worry," I told her. "I'll make sure everyone has fun."

One thing that puzzled me was the fact that my agent did not specify which costume to wear, so I asked Lacey. She just replied that she wanted 'the most popular costume.' The most popular costume was, of course, the cop, but Lacey said that she didn't care either way, so I chose something simple and easy to take off. My outfit comprised of a blue, button down dress shirt, which only takes several seconds to unbutton. I wore my black, patent leather, knee-high boots that zipped up along the calf, and I usually keep these on even after taking off everything else. For the pants, I chose a pair of faux-leather pants that had a polyurethane coat over lycra, giving them a black, sleek and shiny look. The pants were somewhat tight around my hips and thighs, but loosened around the calf areas, making them ideal to take off while keeping my boots on.

I went over the routine with Lacey: Lacey would meet me outside the hotel room and pay me. I would enter, find Melissa and strip for her. As I stripped, Lacey and her friends would shove dollar bills into Melissa's bra for me to fish out, and they would provide a shot glass and alcohol for body shots. Yes, it was basic and similar to almost every other show, but I hate spending so much time and effort preparing for a routine when in reality I spend the majority of the show nearly naked and dry-humping women anyway.

My trip to Gulf Shores went as planned. When I arrived, I knocked on the door and Lacey came outside to meet me with a cellphone in one hand and an envelope full of cash in the other. She was a brunette that had very light blue eyes which contrasted to her olive skin tone. She was wearing short shorts, and a halter top that hugged her petite hourglass figure; she had an extremely slender waist that flowed out into a set of widened hips that gave her the shape of a Coca-Cola bottle---slim in the middle with wider proportions at the top and bottom. Her appearance and demeanor showed that she took care of herself and was raised with good manners. She thanked me for coming and paid me the down payment. "I'll go back inside, so just knock when you're ready and I'll answer the door for you," she said.

"Sounds good. I'll knock on the door in a minute or two."

"Looking forward to it," Lacey smiled, and attempted to enter the room to the condo, but it was locked. "Whoops, I forgot the key."

We both laughed. Lacey used her cellphone to call one of the girls inside, but no one answered. "I'll just knock," I said. "And I guess you can just follow me inside."

I was happy that I didn't plan an elaborate routine, because things rarely go as planned. After a few moments of knocking, one of the girls answered the door to let me and Lacey inside. Upon entering the condo, I walked through the hallway, which opened out into the kitchen and living room. The living room had two couches which were occupied by every girl at the party except Lacey who was standing behind me. I scanned for the bachelorette, which proved difficult since I had forgotten to ask for a description of her. This party had an equal mixture of blondes and brunettes, and every girl on the couch looked as if she could be the soon-to-be bride.

Fuck it. I decided to wing it. "I'm here for Melissa," I said.

One of the blonde girls began to cover her face while the others turned to face her, so closed in on her. This time turned out like many times before: I stripped for the bachelorette, pulled the dollar bills out of her bra with my teeth, and then took body shots from the other girls' abs. The main difference between this party and the others was that the girls at this party had well-defined abs. Several of them had muscle tone on their arms, which reflected a lifestyle of exercise and eating well. When I asked them if they exercised, a few replied that they ran cross-country while the others claimed to do weight-lifting. Six fitness girls and me. As an avid admirer of fitness girls, I felt like I had died and gone to heaven.

I cycled through each girl, finally getting Lacey, who had a six-pack for abs. As I was taking body shots from her, I noticed a bowl of alcohol-soaked gummi worms on the table next to me. I took a yellow, green and red gummi worm and dangled it over Lacey's mouth. "Open up," I said. Lacey complied and I slowly inserted the gummi worm into mouth, leaving half of it outside her mouth. Lacey closed her mouth and I closed in on her and took the other half of the gummi worm into my mouth, sucking it in until our lips met. The taste of the gummi worm nearly caused me to choke since it had an overpowering aroma of vodka, which I wasn't prepared for.

"Oh my God, Heather," one of the girls called out. "Check this out. You're missing it."

Heather came running from the kitchen to witness my interactions with Lacey, but arrived just as I was pulling away from Lacey, who was beginning to chew her gummi worm.

"Want me to do that again," I asked the other girls.


I placed another gummi worm into Heather's Lacey's mouth even though she still wasn't finished with the first one. As I reached down to get it, I grabbed her legs, spread them apart, and placed myself between them, moving up and down to the rhythm of the music in the room. I made sure to retrieve the gummi worm slowly this time, causing the other girls to cheer and take pictures. Lacey must have felt me getting hard during that time as we were exchanging the taste of alcoholic gummi worms.

After Lacey came a qwerky brunette named Claire. She wore a loose white t-shirt and short, red gym shorts that revealed her long tanned legs that felt smooth to the touch. I placed Claire on the ground in the missionary position and lifted up her t-shirt, which exposed abdominal muscles that were just as well defined as Lacey's. By now, I was wondering if these girls exercised together. I took several body shots from Claire's midsection and then thrust myself against the crevice of Claire's shorts, where her vagina was. We rested on the floor, entangled and hesitant to extract ourselves. "I'm getting really turned on," said Claire to the amusement of everyone else in the room.

"I had better stop then before I make you too wet," I joked, pulling myself away and lifting Claire from the floor.

Instead of getting embarrassed, Claire laughed. "Too late for that, honey. I'm already wet."

Several girls laughed. "Claire!" one of them said in a chiding tone.

Similar antics followed for the remaining girls. Some of them seemed reluctant to participate, but they soon buckled under the overwhelming peer pressure from everyone else, especially Claire. "Come on girl," she goaded. "You know you want that cock."

After I had interacted with each and every girl once or twice, I began to put my clothes back on. Claire and Lacey approached me during this time. "Why don't you stay a little longer?" Claire asked.

Before I could answer, Lacey piped in, "Yeah, you can play beer pong with us."

In truth, I had never played beer pong in my life. I have watched others play it though. With the exception of taking shots from a random girl's midsection or cleavage, I don't drink alcohol very often. Bars, clubs, and house parties never appealed to me. Perhaps that was why I went all of these years---even through college---without playing a single game of beer pong. When I told the girls this fact, they all were shocked.

"You never played before!?"


Lacey slipped her arm around my arm and pulled me toward the table where several plastic cups were set up in a triangle formation on each side of the table, reminding me of bowling pins but with plastic red cups full of beer. Lacey told me that all I had to do was toss a ping pong ball into one of the cups on the opposite side of the table, and the person on the other team would have to drink from that cup. Likewise if the other team member tossed a ping pong ball into our set of cups, we would have to drink from that cup.

"I can't drink," I told Lacey. "I have to drive home."

She patted my arm with her hand and got closer to me, looking up at me with her light blue eyes. She was so close to me that I felt as though she was on the verge of making out with me. "I'll drink for you then," she said.

The ping pong game started off. It was Lacey and I versus Claire and Melissa. Everyone was so engaged in conversation that the beer pong game carried on barely noticed. Being the most sober one present, I rang the cups with accuracy. Claire either had luck or good depth perception, because she had managed to score a few points herself, causing Lacey to drink more beer. At some point during the game, Lacey had her arm around my lower back and her head against my shoulder. Her arm that was around me lowered until it was around my ass. After several moments of playing ping pong and engaging in conversation, I felt her hand caress the left portion of my ass.

"I like your pants," she said, tracing her hand up and down along the sleek blackness of my faux-leather pants.

"Just the pants?" I asked.

The other girls laughed and began to tease Lacey, whose face flushed crimson. After several more good natured taunts from her friends, Lacey said, "So how do you get your butt firm like the way you have it?"

"Squats with weights," I replied. "But I felt your ass while we were dancing earlier and it was pretty nice for me." My comment caused Lacey to blush even more.
Apparently the alcohol did little to diminish her embarrassment. Claire used this opportunity to announce to everyone that Lacey "had a crush" on me. "You're one to talk," I told Claire. "Didn't you say that you were getting turned on when I was straddling you earlier?"

Claire grinned. "Hell yeah I was getting turned on. I'll admit what no one else will. Everyone in this room was getting turned on by you. Especially Lacey here." Lacey stared at me and said nothing to refute Claire's claims. Neither did the other girls. One girl in the background answered, "Yeah, it's true."

One thing I have noticed during my years as a male stripper is that women get turned by a male stripper much more than I had realized. I used to think that most women hire male strippers for the sole amusement of watching their friends get embarrassed. However, what Claire has pointed out reflects more and more throughout my parties, especially this one. A lot of girls get turned on by the male stripper.

The way that Lacey was staring at me also mirrored Claire's words. Shortly thereafter, we finished our game of beer pong, I readied myself to leave since I had errands early the following morning. Before I walked out, Claire said, "Thanks for giving everyone the 'blue bean.'

"Blue bean?" I said. "What's that?"

"It's when a girl gets so aroused that her clit gets filled with blood," Claire said.

"Wow. I learn something new everyday." With that, I gathered my money and thanked everyone. Each girl gave me a hug before I left. Lacey walked me outside. "I had a lot of fun," she said.

"Me too," I said. "You have my number. Let me know if you ever head out this way."
"I will," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

As I left, I wondered if Lacey had a bad case of the 'blue bean.'

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Male Stripping Requirements - Part 3

Here's a batch of more e-mails from guys who want to become male strippers. For those of you readers who actually are male strippers, feel free to answer and add your own comments at the bottom. Some of you can probably give better answers than I can.

Question 1: Is there a specific height limit that agency's prefer? Thanks man

- Isaiah

Answer: The taller the better. A majority of the agents I had preferred a guy who was at least 6'0. There are exceptions. I'm just under 6'0 and I had no problems getting hired.

Question 2: Hi my name is Kevin and I'm actually quite interested in becoming a male stripper in a couple years or so. I wanted to know where male strippers learn how to dance. Is it just natural?

- Kevin

Answer: Some people have innate talent for things such as singing or dancing. Others have to train for it to reach even just a level of mediocrity. If you're one who sucks at dancing, I suggest you take lessons and learn about rhythm and timing.
Question 3: What's up man. Hey I've been Wanting to become a stripper and I have questions on it. first, do male strippers get laid often, just looking on an average scale.
how would you prevent yourself from getting herpes from kissing or a blowjob
Besides abstinence.

- David

Answer: I can't talk for all male strippers, but I get laid often enough.

In order to prevent getting herpes from kissing and blowjobs, just don't get kissed or receive a blowjob from someone with herpes. How you go about finding out whether someone has herpes is all up to you. I suggest avoiding contact with regions of outbreaks.

Question 4: What are the face requirements? I've got a good body but I don't know about my face. Do u have to have a "model" face to be a male stripper?

- Nour Hassan

Answer: Having a good face helps. I'm not going to get all into the aesthetics of what kind of face makes you a successful male stripper, but chances are, if the majority of girls find you good looking, then you probably have the face for the job.

Question 5: I need help sir i dont know if you are still stripping but i need advice im young and im 20 years old

- Keith Beal

Answer: I'm not sure what kind of advice you need, but I'll provide you with some: Use a period to end a sentence. You're 20 fucking years old and still writing run-on sentences. You should know better.

Question 6: My girlfriend is a stripper, and recently I've been thinking about becoming one myself. Honestly, how hard can it be?

- Bryan

Answer: Becoming a male stripper must be somewhat difficult if you haven't become one yet. I mean, if it's so easy then go do it.

Question 7: Hey mate,
Appreciate your time & the blog.
I'm 17 & really keen on getting into the male stripping industry as soon as I hit 18.
However, I'm a bit concerned after looking at many stripping sites that the majority of males are light skinned.
I'm of Sri Lankan/Irish heritage, but I'm quite fair. Do stripping employers prefer Caucasian appearance?
Also, do I need a full driver's licence?
What are the hours like?

Thanks a lot,

Answer: Um, did you read through my blog? I'm half-Asian and half white, and apparently every agency I applied at picked me up. If you're going worry about ethnicity, then you're looking at the wrong job.

If you're really 17, then you need to look into a trade or a worthwhile career rather than focus on male stripping. Male stripping is a side job for extra money.

Besides, very few agencies will consider you even when you turn 18. Most guys at 18 still have a boyish appearance that reflects a lack of experience. If you don't believe me, then go find a 45 year old lady who has worked a professional career her entire adult life and see if you can hold a conversation with her about finances, careers, politics, and best of all---life experiences. On top of that, see if she finds you attractive and worth dating after talking to you for half an hour.

When you work as a male stripper, you meet women of all ages from all walks of life and it's part of the job to converse and build a rapport with them. If you lack life experience, which at 17 or 18 you do, then you're going to struggle relating with these women when the highlights of your life was during high school.

Some of these women also have children who around in high school or college, or even older. How do you think they will feel having a male stripper that's 18 in the room? Most women aren't like most men---they don't like 'em younger.

I'm not trying to bash you. These examples are just the reality one faces in this industry.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Eishiro: The Dirty Old Man

Eishiro - on far right; he tried to make out with a "young, beautiful girl" after the pic was taken.

When I was teaching English in Japan back in 2005, there was an old man named Eishiro (pronounced 'eh-she-row') who came to our company's branch everyday and he would just sit on the couch in the lobby and look around. One distinguishing feature about him was that his head was shaped like a squash. I never paid him much attention until he shit his pants. Liquid shit not only soiled his pants, but covered the couch and oozed onto the floor. What surprised me even further was the fact that Eishiro would sit there oblivious to it all.

I later discovered that this was a common occurrence. Sometimes my branch manager would try to inform Eishiro in the polite Japanese way by saying, "Excuse me, Eishiro... Did you slip in some mud today? No? Well, you should check your pants, because it appears that you have some mud on them."

At other times, Eishiro would manage to make it to the toilet on time, only to unload a colossal, explosive mess all over the toilet stall. One time I went to the restroom after Eishiro had left and was hit by a horrid, rancid smell. I looked into the stall and it looked as though someone had filled several water balloons with diarrhea and threw them into the stall. I felt pity for the cleaning lady who had to clean that mess.

Shitting everywhere wasn't the only thing Eishiro was famous for... All of the Japanese female co-workers of mine referred to him as a sukebe, which meant "pervert." Apparently, the main reason why Eishiro came into our branch's lobby everyday was to gawk at the female employees, despite the fact that he only had class once a week. Every once in awhile, Eishiro would quip a one-liner in attempt to pick up on one of the females. Once I heard him mutter in Japanese, "I'm so tired. Can you come over here so I can put my head in your lap and rest?" Naturally, all of Eishiro's remarks were met with revulsion and most of my coworkers avoided him like the plague. Even the gaijin (foreign - person not from Japan) coworkers were disgusted with Eishiro. Eishiro's perverted nature was so bad, that my branch only allowed Eishiro to study English if he signed up for private lessons with a male teacher instead of studying together with a class full of female students. After watching Eishiro get pushed down from attempting to kiss a petite coworker, and witnessing multiple self-defecating incidents from him, I found myself hating the man, so I ignored him.

I managed to ignore him for a several months, despite him coming to the branch everyday. Then one day in 2006, my manager gave me some bad news. "Um, Dion-Sensei..." she began, and I knew what she was going to say next. "Eishiro is about to graduate from Hiro-Sensei's lessons, and he needs a foreign teacher next, and..."

"No," I said.

"But Dion-Sensei..."

"No fucking way. I'll quit. I'll leave right now and go back to America. I smell his shit in the lobby---I don't want to be stuck in a small classroom smelling it."

"Please, Dion-Sensei. Onegai shimasu. Eishiro has been requesting a foreign teacher for years, and we've been holding off because we know the foreign teachers don't like him. Brian-Sensei is booked with too many students, and we cannot put him with a female teacher."

After my manager pleaded with me for several minutes, I finally relented, much to the relief of the rest of my coworkers, especially Brian.. "All right, but you owe me."

"Thank you so much!"

My manager scheduled my class with Eishiro every Wednesday morning. All of the other gaijin coworkers that consisted of one girl from Texas, a guy from Australia, and Brian from California laughed at me. The Japanese coworkers both laughed and sympathized with me. I had a backup plan though. I was going to just wing through Eishiro's lesson without any lesson plans, and maybe he would hate my class so much that he would complain and they would reassign him to someone else. It was selfish, but after smelling his accidents in the lobby and the restroom, all I could think of was self-preservation at this point.

On Eishiro's first day of class with me, he shit his pants while seated at his desk. Like many times before, Eishiro was oblivious to the smell and the fact that he had liquid shit running down his pant leg and onto his shoes. He just continued speaking to me in English, formally introducing himself. I nodded politely while holding my breath and opened the window. Unfortunately, that was not enough. I used the sleeve of my business suit as a makeshift gas mask and pretended I was wiping my nose. That one hour of class was complete and utter torture.

I ended class five minutes early and told Eishiro that I would see him next Wednesday. I went up to my manager and told her that Eishiro shit all over the desk, then stormed to my desk. I was in a bad mood. I watched my manager get a tower and a bottle of cleaning detergent and head for the classroom. She returned with the desk and dragged it outside, then she went back to the classroom to spend even more time cleaning it. When I saw her again, I asked her, "You cleaned all of his shit?"

"Yes, I clean it every time he does that," she said.

At that moment, I felt ashamed. Here I was complaining of teaching Eishiro while my manager would get down on her hands and knees and  repeatedly clean up after him with no complaints. I apologized to her and told her that I would teach Eishiro from now on with no complaints. She smiled and thanked me.

The next several lessons with Eishiro went by without a shitting incident. I discovered that Eishiro only shits himself when he goes out drinking the night beforehand. My manager advised him to stop drinking the night before English lessons, and he listened for the most part.

Another thing that I realized about Eishiro was that his English was fairly decent, and he was an eager student.

"What are your hobbies, Eishiro?"

"I like looking at young, beautiful girls!" he said with a smile that spread across his face.

"So what is your daily schedule, Eishiro?"

"I wake up in the morning and swim at the Konami gym's pool. Next, I come to this school and look at young, beautiful girls!"

"What do you do after you go to this school?"

"I go to Tomato Bank."

"What do you do there?"

"I sit in lobby and look at young, beautiful girls!" Eishiro said with laughter.

I began to laugh. "So after Tomato Bank, where do you go?"

"I go to the department store and sit at the food court, and look at young, beautiful girls!"

"And after that?" By now, I could not stop laughing.

"I go home. Then next day, I do the same thing again."

"That sounds like fun, Eishiro. I like looking at young, beautiful girls too."

Eishiro broke into a guffaw. "Yeessss! It is very good! You like?"

During one class session, I asked Eishiro what he disliked.

"Ugly, fat girls!" he said, then laughed. "And ugly, old girls. No good!"

Throughout several classes, I learned that Eishiro was almost 70 years old, divorced, lived off of his mother who was almost a hundred years old. He liked to drink and gamble at the horse races. Eishiro was also a grandfather and often spoke enthusiastically of spending time with his grandson, who was still a child, and taking him to the amusement park.

Eishiro also told me how he used to play baseball in high school and college. "Back then," he said, "To have sex with young, beautiful girls was easier... I was young, played baseball, and had sex with young, beautiful girls. It was good time!"

I laughed and realized that besides the fact that I wasn't old and didn't shit on myself on a regular basis, I was very similar to Eishiro. I liked young, beautiful girls and spent a majority of my free time chasing after them. I wondered if I would be like Eishiro when I became old---an old man who refuses to hang it up. Moreover, I wondered how the hell Eishiro managed to get any girls at all with his head being shaped like a squash.

Most of my coworkers still hated Eishiro, especially the gaijin ones. "He's a fuckin' disgusting old man," Brian told me. "I'm disgusted just by even looking at him." I said nothing to that. I felt that I could not bring myself to badmouth Eishiro anymore. I was beginning to like teaching him. Eishiro studied hard, was eager to learn, and he told a lot of jokes, which contrasted to the bland conversations of most of the other students.

One day, Eishiro brought two tickets to class and waved them at me. "I want to invite you to nice restaurant. You are good teacher. I want you to go." This gesture of appreciation is common in Japan, and I have had several students offer to take me sight-seeing or to restaurants throughout Japan.

I politely declined, but saw disappointment and dismay etched on Eishiro's face. Then, I realized that Eishiro must have spent quite a bit of money on them. He did mention that it was a nice restaurant. It would have been extremely rude to turn such an offer down in Japan. I quickly corrected myself and speaking in Japanese, I said, "Sorry, I misunderstood. What were you saying?"

Eishiro repeated the same invitation in Japanese.

"Oh, I see," I said. "Yes, I would love to go! Let me check my schedule."

My manager was shocked that I accepted Eishiro's invitation. "You are so nice, Dion-Sensei. Good luck."

On the day of going to the restaurant, I met Eishiro outside the restaurant. I really didn't know what to say to him outside of class, so he did most of the talking. Once inside the restaurant, Eishiro seemed to come to life. He gawked at the waitresses and smiled. "Lots of young, beautiful girls here," he said.

We ordered food and ate. Eishiro complained about the vegetables on a particular dish. "Mazui," he said, which meant "disgusting." He proceeded to call a waitress over, explaining to her how disgusting the dish was in Japanese, to which the waitress bowed and apologized profusely. Then, Eishiro did something that surprised me and the waitress.

As the waitress bowed apologetically again, Eishiro reached one arm around her to hug her, and used his other hand to pat her on the head. "Aren't you just a cute girl?" he said in Japanese, his squash-shaped head bobbing in pleasure. The girl wriggled out of his grasp and hurried away. "Wait!" Eishiro called out, causing the other customers at the restaurant to look at our table. "I have a handsome American right here for you, miss. Come back!"

Since 2003, I made a living taking off my clothes in front of women. I have masturbated several times while a room full of girls watched me. I don't get embarrassed easily. I rarely have shame for what I do. But at this restaurant on this particular day with Eishiro, I felt my skin burn. I wanted to hide under the table. Eishiro was truly a master at the art of being a sukebe.

Unfortunately, Eishiro wasn't done.

Another waitress came to our table, apparently the previous girl's replacement, to see if we needed anything else. Eishiro assured her that he did. "Yeah, where did that other cute girl go?"

The new waitress ignored the question and asked if we needed anything else.

"Yes," Eishiro, said putting a hand on the new waitress's waist. "I need a back massage."

Even though I was embarrassed, I began to laugh. I couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. The waitress wasn't as amused, however. She pushed Eishiro's hand away and asked him to refrain from touching, then the stated that if he didn't have anything to order, she was going to leave.

Eishiro ordered a cup of coffee and the waitress left. "What a shitty girl," Eishiro muttered in Japanese. "But she was a young, beautiful girl!"


At the end of 2006, I was finishing up my teaching contract at my branch school and was preparing to return to America. During my last class with Eishiro, he pulled out his wallet and handed me 20,000 yen, which is worth almost 250 American dollars by today's standard.

"Thank you for teaching me English. I enjoyed very much. Please get lots of young, beautiful girls when you go back to America!"

I thanked Eishiro over and over again for his gift. "I will," I said.

As Eishiro was leaving the lobby after his last class with me, he shocked all of my Japanese coworkers by turning and bowing at me. "It was an honor," he said in Japanese. "Please continue studying Japanese. Your Japanese is very good."

I assured him that I would. With that, Eishiro left the lobby and that was the last time I ever saw him.

"Wow," my manager said. "He really respected you."

"Well, Dion did put up with all his shit for a year," Brian said with a grin.


Last month in June of 2012, I visited my manager and a few of my Japanese coworkers at my old branch school. We all went out to dinner and I asked about several students, some of whom are still taking English lessons. I began distributing souvenirs from my town in Alabama to my former colleagues.

"So how's Eishiro," I said with a laugh, pulling out a Maxim magazine (with a nice centerfold of a beautiful, young girl) that I bought especially for him. "Is he still coming to the lobby everyday?"

The dinner table became quiet. I immediately knew that something was up.

"It's a very sad story," my former manager began. "Eishiro stopped coming to the lobby, and all of those places he went to everyday like Tomato bank, Konami, and the department stores... Some employees who knew him thought that something was wrong, because he usually shows up everyday. So someone called the police to check on him and the police entered his house and found him in bed."

This news took me aback. The magazine sat in my hands without an owner to go to.

My manager patted my arm, "You were always nice to him, Dion."

Not always. But I was glad that I got to know him. He wasn't the nicest person in society, but then again, neither am I. One thing is for sure: I'll be sure to enjoy some "young, beautiful girls" on his behalf.

(Post Script: I'll add a little more about Eishiro later.)

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Q & A July 4, 2012

July 4th. A good time to have a day off and catch up on e-mails, which contained loads of questions this time around (some of which had been answered before).

1. What is it like being a male stripper?

When I'm off work, it's the same as being like everyone else. When I'm working, it's like being a performer. I'm the performer and I have an audience to entertain.

2. How do you get in to shape?

Weight-lifting, cardio, and a healthy diet. I have been fairly consistent on this for the past 14 years.

3. What is the money like?

At the rate I'm working now, it's just bonus money. During college when I was working a few parties a week, the money was pretty decent.

4. What are your women like when you are performing for them?

It depends on the crowd. Each party is different.

5. What is your success rate with women off the stage?

It's roughly the same---I'm still the same person.

6. What do you carry CCW wise?

I often carry a .38 special Smith & Wesson revolver, but lately I've been carrying a Glock 33 (.357 sig).

7. Is it normal for you to get rejected a lot when approaching women or dating?

Of course it's normal. Every girl, just like every guy, has her own personal tastes on which type of guy she likes. My personality or looks are not compatible with every girl out there. Some girls may consider me an ugly douche-bag, and that's fine. If I let the opinion of others bother me so much, then I shouldn't be a male stripper in the first place.

I don't really seek out dates or make such planned "approaches." I talk to everyone with ease. If I happen to talk to an attractive girl, I do so in a manner like I would with anyone else. If I feel a flirty or an intrigued vibe from her, I reciprocate it. I also watch her body language. Body language tells more than words.

8. Do guys that are good at talking to women strike out a lot too? Do guys that are good at talking to girls go through a lot of hardship as well?

I have struck out a lot in my lifetime. In high school, every girl I asked out to the prom rejected me. It was a shitty feeling. However, I learned not to base my happiness on whether or not another girl likes me. What do I whenever I get rejected? Move on. It's always better to find someone who will reciprocate your feelings than to have a lonely, one-sided attraction that goes nowhere.

And here was an e-mail from Omar that had several questions in one:

Hello, my name is Omar and I live in San Diego, CA. Lately...I've been having this crazy idea about becoming a stripper. I heard male strippers earn a lot of money but I am not so sure about this. I am tired of being poor and it hurts my heart looking my mom struggle a lot in this economy. I'm not ready to become a stripper yet but I know I have the talent for that. A special talent I have is that I can move my gluteal muscles...not many people can do it. I go to the gym 6 days a week for 2.5 hours. I'm 6'3" tall, weight 223 lbs, 23 years old, have 18 inch biceps, bulky, racially mixed (Latino, white, Asian), but I'm not ripped. I'm trying very hard on getting ripped and I've lost 15 lbs in 1 month. I don't know if being a stripper in a big city like San Diego will help me gain better dollars. What are your thoughts? What do I need to do? How much money do you think I will end up earning? By the way, I wouldn't mind working in a gay yeah. Again, I'm not ready for this job because I need to complete two semesters at my university. I will most likely be ready in one year. Any ideas are very welcomed. Thank you for your help. Have a nice day!

- Omar

Omar, I have some good news and bad news for you. I'll start with the bad news first. Stripping is not going to get you and your family out of poverty. You need to focus on getting a real job that requires skill and has a career ladder. Male stripping has no career ladder, nor is it a steady source of income. Second, moving your glute muscles is fine and dandy and all, but how long do you think that will entertain a crowd for? Ten, maybe fifteen seconds. You'll need more tricks up your sleeve to drag out the next 45 minutes. Third, you may need to get more ripped. One thing that every agent I ever had ask me was if I had visible abs.

Now onto the good news. San Diego may be a good location for stripping. More people tends to equal more work. I don't know how much you'll end up earning, but it may be more than what I make if you're willing to strip at a gay bar. Hell, you can probably even take that a step further and do gay porn. If you have the look, then you can really make bank---it all just depends on how far you're willing to go. I had one agent offer me $1,000 per gig for a one-on-one private show for a guy. If you're willing to do that kind of work, then I reckon you could get rich before long.