Lap Dance Lies

*My first boner.

I found out awhile ago that blogging and now this tweeting nonsense gives me very little privacy. It's not that I mind thousands of people hearing about my sexual adventures (mostly misadventures) or even my bowel movements. I don't know most of these thousands (ok, hundreds) of people anyways. What I do mind is when one or two people that I'm close with (girlfriend, mom) find out about certain misdeeds via my social media outlets. It makes trips to the strip club and lies about my work schedule a little more difficult to conceal. With that in mind...

I visited Scores in Baltimore a few nights ago. Scores is a halfway decent strip club. For my local readers, it's like Baltimore's version of south side Richmond's Paper Moon, only with hotter girls and no panties. Not that I think she'll mind, but I sort of omitted this information when describing the trip to my girlfriend.

I wish I could sit here and regale you with stories of wet lap dances, ass cracks used as coke plates, making it rain and going all "Pac Man" on some triflin' bitches, but I can't. It was uneventful. I had some guido tell me not to talk to the bartender because she was his girlfriend, which made ordering drinks a bit of a challenge. I put some crispy ones in a few G strings. I sat around and tried to act cool and aloof. Nothing out of the ordinary.

I concluded two things from all of this: Any future trips to Richmond's strip clubs will be disappointing and that being in a relationship takes away from the gentleman's club experience. Half of the excitement of paying to be around naked women is the thought that maybe, just maybe, one of them will sleep with you. Knowing that I couldn't anyways sucked, cause I mean a couple of them totally wanted to, I could just tell. They weren't faking it with me. Seriously bro. This one girl....

Who am I kidding.


PS. Let's keep this blog post secret, okay guys?

Punch Drunk # 8

"As a bar fight always tends to do, it made me wonder whether I’m in the right line of work. Bars are inherently unsafe. Some much more so than others, but anywhere the alcohol flows and people congregate will always have that powder-keg potential." - "Bruise-Free Brews" Punch Drunk # 8 - Style Weekly

Everyone is an MMA douche these days, especially after 14 beers. Go read my latest column here or grab a print copy at the nearest big red box with an (S) on it.

I Said The Word "Asshole" In Richmond Magazine

Lauterback says he does worry about the effect his blog could have on his future employment — “I’ll always be one Google search away from a lot of ridiculous things” — but for now, he’s riding the wave and plans to explain to potential bosses that he wrote the blog in his mid-20s, when he was “partying a lot.” - Richmond Magazine Nov. 09'


Article in the new Richmond Mag about bloggers and the effects their blogs have on their employment. I managed to come off as a huge dickhead as usual. Probably because they interviewed me at 10 AM after a long nights work. You can read the entire piece here.

The Martin Agency Is Not Mad Men

As most of my local readers know, Richmond is home to one of the preeminent advertising agencies in the world, The Martin Agency. Best known for its work with Geico (The Gekko, The Cavemen and now the "Somebodies Watching Me" eyeballs ad), UPS ( the dude drawing on a whiteboard, "What can Brown do for you), those annoyingly catchy FreeCreditReport.com ads, and probably some other great stuff that I'm too lazy to look up. According to Wiki they are the number three ranked ad agency in the world with over 600,000,000 in billings, fiscal 08'. That's crazy money, that's GDP of Norway type money. Who would've guessed that our own lil Richmond was harboring such advertising genius?

As most of you also know, I'm a devoted follower of MadMen, so of course I've always wanted to think that everyone at the Martin Agency dressed to the nines, used the drink as a means for finding their creative expression, chased skirts and generally behaved like animals.

Much to my wild imagination's chagrin, this doesn't seem to be the case.

I know a few "Martinites" through my bars and from other places and they're just like you and me. They have beards, they dress sort of frumpy, they come and quaff 3 dollar margaritas for happy hour. Most of them don't even chain smoke. I'd even be willing to bet that the majority of people who work at the Martin Agency are not involved in extramarital affairs. What the fuck? This is advertising bitches!

Well I think I can help them out.

The story is that the creative guy behind the UPS white board commercials is in fact the guy who is in the commercials doing the drawings. You know the guy, longer black hair, expressionless, wields an eraser and dry-erase marker like a young Bob Ross. Apparently after screen tests he was the best at it. I also hear this guy (Andy Azula) frequents some of the bars I do here in Richmond.

Here's my idea: Get this hippie a haircut, a pack of Lucky Strikes, less Brooks Brothers and more Saville Row, a few 21 year old VCU mistresses (which I can help find) and what do we have? You guessed it. Draper.

Ok Martin Agency, lets cut this effeminate artist act and butch the place up...And I only mean that for the men there, the women are already butch enough. Go get em team!

* "Peggy, move my 5 o'clock to never, get me a drink and tell Betty I'm staying in the city tonight. Jack Goes Forth and I have plans."

The Things We Email, But Do Not Say

Jack: I'm out of it...Stayed up til 6, making babies...It was fun.
PS. I never wear a lil hat like I'm supposed to. You interested in being a godfather?

Someone: Wait your not really considering having a child are you? Be careful, it only takes one time!

Jack: Noooooo, it's just that we sometimes aren't very careful. C'mon you know me.... Wire coat hanger? check. Vaseline? check. Tissues for the massive blood loss? double check. Dumpster? checkeroo.

Someone: Gross.

Jack: I wouldn't take her to that hoity toity abortion clinic on Grove Ave either... That shit would probably cost me two arms and two legs.

Get it? Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night. Please tip your waitress.

Someone: You're living up to your well-earned reputation this morning.

- Email exchange 10/21/09




Did you enjoy this post? Are you into blood like I am? Here's another period/baby/sex JGF classic: ASighOfRelief.

I Knew It All Along

A New York Times article today helped back up some of my findings. Those findings being that a major in Political Science is a joke. I found this out after extensive research, scientific analysis and many long hours spent wasting my early twenties. In other words, I have a major in Poly Sci and it's a worthless piece of shit that I have never and will never use.

The Times piece argues that less funding should be given to Poly Sci research projects due to the work having a declining lack of public relevance. Basically they are saying that the work being done does not matter to anyone but the people doing the work. They go on to use a bunch of fancy edumacation jargon such as "quantitative method", "political phenomena" and "scientific method" to prove this point.

I'll put it down in layman's terms for you. Political Science is one big farce. Don't major in it, don't let your kids major in it. Do something worthwhile with your college time. Drink, slay poon, eat junk and get a degree in engineering.

You can thank me when you pull up to the bar in a Benz in ten years and I'm still serving you drinks.

Their Apartments Smell Of Rich Mahogany

A Handy Pocket Guide To The Locals Who Bring Us The News:


Juan Conde: Esquire, Unflappable, Knows Kung Fu (maybe), drinks high end scotch (I would assume), known in the past as a ladies man. His legend proceeds him the way lightning proceeds thunder. His personality is so magnetic, he is unable to carry credit cards.

Jim Duncan: Hair piece doesn't tell the whole story. Beast in the gym, bad boy of Richmond and possibly of all Virginia's "weather-teams". Probably has a big Doppler.

Rachel DePompa: Lil cutie. Used to bartend. Likes to drink. OK in my book.

Kelli O'Hara: Lil drunkie. I'm not even sure she works for channel 6 anymore but during her tenure there she was easily in the top 3 for hottest female news personalities in Richmond. We had a drunken conversation once. She told me I was a good writer, I told her she looks "slammin" on camera.

Gene Cox: Olllllllll' Maaaaaannnnn Riiivvvveeerrrr! I'm not gonna bait this guy. He scares the hell out of me.

Angela Pellerano: Slightly older but has done a fine job of keeping it sexy. Met her at Rosie Connellys one night. I don't remember a single detail.

Ric Young: I have nothing negative to say about Ric Young ever again.

Lee Mahaffey: Giggity giggity gi-gig-dy!!!!

Amy Lacey: Nothing to say about this one. After looking at her Twitter avatar I decided that Ty Webb's ode to sex from the movie Caddyshack would suffice: "I was born to rub you, I was born to lick your face, I was born to rub you, but you were born to rub me first!"

Ryan Nobles: Don't know him, but he's young and good looking. I can only assume that his fame gets him invited to many underground sex parties with Richmond's elite. Imagine looking across the room and seeing a nude, oiled up Ryan Nobles plowing Sabrina Squi....wait wait wait, forget about it.

*On a related note, Ryan Nobles will be interviewing me tomorrow for a channel 12 news piece on bloggers, the first amendment and getting sued for blogging. A few topics I'm pretty familiar with. For my stalkers, its not supposed to air until November.

Guy's Night Out

*Me an mah dawgs

Tonight I embark upon the time honored tradition known as guy's night out. Being in a relationship has seen these always fun, always strange and exciting nights wither up and die, much like my penis.

Not tonight though. I put my foot down and said "dammit I'm a man, bitch, and this man needs to eat!", which in real life speak sounds more like "baby, do you mind if I spend a night out with some old friends, I haven't seen them in so long, puhleez babymuffins?"

What goes down on my sort of guys night out? Here's a better question, what doesn't go down on my sort of guys night out? I'll tell you.

- Sobriety

- 14 shots of Rumpleminze (we take 15 instead)

- Smokin' doobies (we've long since graduated to the booger sugar)

- Not referencing and misquoting Seinfeld and Always Sunny (meaning we will be, frequently)

- Fistfights (we mouth off to people, then back down like pussies)

- Gay stuff (unless our gay friend comes, then there might be some gay stuff)

- Success with women

- Dancing well

- Wearing anything other than jeans and a tee-shirt

- Having a DD

- Eating a big meal before the night out (is for pussies...so wait, we might be doing this one)

- Carrying condoms on us (won't need em...even if one of my crew does get lucky. Condoms are so 1994.)

- Dignity, composure, civility

Punch Drunk # 7

"Instead of vilifying these gents and glorifying their leopard prints, why can’t we let these manthers, as the make of the breed should be known, keep on keepin’ on? It’s not easy to get laid, period. It’s really not easy when you’re balding, paunchy and prone to slur after a few cocktails." - "Swine Crew" - Punch Drunk # 7, Style Weekly

This week I took a look at the Cougars antagonist; The Manther. A species I've become very familiar with through my time behind the bar. Go read about these ol' dirty bastards here or hit the streets and find that big red box with an (S) on the side.

Deep Thoughts With Jack Goes Forth

There comes a point in every one's life when you sit down and you say to yourself, "What the hell am I doing?" Maybe this query was brought about by an involuntary removal from ones place of employment, maybe it was brought about by the unintended culmination of a relationship. A few of my readers have probably asked themselves this as they sit over that 15th little white line at 5 AM. Maybe and most likely, the question came to fruition while tired and hungover on a weekday, while watching more competent and far less intoxicated people pass you by, on their way to do more important things with their lives.

Whether you're a bartender or an Ivy League whiz kid, everyone, every once and awhile will get that ominous feeling that something in their lives is being squandered.

I have one of these existential crisis daily. Then I sober up and realize that I can sleep until 4 PM and that I have an incredibly lucrative job that has nothing to do with my worthless college degree. By the first beer, I'm over it.

My advice for all of you confused twenty-somethings out there: Quit your job, become a bartender, smoke and drink constantly. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Monday Is MAN DAY

UPDATE: Jesus Christ people. Stop emailing me and asking why I have a picture of David Letterman under the term "MAN DAY". Go watch Entertainment Tonight or pick up a copy of US Weekly, then you will understand why he gets an entire day devoted to his overwhelming display of manliness.

*Previous "Monday is MAN DAY" posts: JohnDaly

Greatest Fictional Bartenders Of All Time

Lloyd "The Shining"- Just how I like my bartenders- Creepy bastards who only speak in ominous undertones. Known for reintroducing Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson) to alcohol and for almost being an accessory in the murders of Wendy and Danny Torrance. Surely I'm Lloyd in 15 years.

Dennis Reynolds "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia" - Vain, ego-centric, back-stabbing, man-whore... Dennis proves that bartending really is all about getting girls numbers and getting falling down drunk, nothing more, nothing less.

Douglas Coughlin "Cocktail"

Doug: (Introducing Himself) "Douglas Coughlin, Logical Negativist. Flourished in the last part of the 20th Century. Propounded a set of laws the world generally ignores, to its detriment."

No bartender has done more to advance the notion that we barmen are all geniuses and much smarter than our patrons than Mr. Doug Coughlin. Died clutching a bottle of expensive Cognac.

More notable "Coughlin's Laws":

"I don't care how liberated this world becomes - a man will always be judged by the amount of alcohol he can consume - and a woman will be impressed, whether she likes it or not. "

"Beer is for breakfast around here, drink or be gone."

"Bury the dead. They stink up the joint. As for the rest of Coughlin's Laws, ignore them. The guy was always full of shit."

Moe Syzlak "The Simpsons"- A murderous pessimist with the occasional soft spot in his heart. Best friend to Homer, Barney, Lenny and Carl. Known for a mug that only a mother could love.

Sam Malone "Cheers" - Former relief pitcher for the Boston Red Sox, owner of the seminal fictional bar Cheers, and prodigious womanizer. "Mayday" Malone is the originator, the bartender that all of us real bartenders hope one day to become. Sure he had his problems with Diane (and later Rebecca Howe), alcoholism and later in the series a strange case of sex addiction, but we all still love the guy.

Worst Fictional Bartender Of All Time (WFBOAT) - Steve "Sex In The City" - This nancy boy falls for a ball-busting lawyer and ends up starting a family in Brooklyn. His nasally, whiny voice still stings my ears. Later in the series he opened his own bar with other sensitive loser, Aiden.