When life gives you lemons, you should always try to make lemonade. But when life gives you two McChickens and one of them is holding you down and telling you that you've been in a horrible car accident and to try not to move while the other is shouting over it that you're in a coma and need to kill yourself in your dream to wake yourself up, you should be very careful which of those you choose to believe. Also, I've seen a lot of strippers and I think the sexiest trait about strippers is that they've cultivated a certain look throughout the life, you know when they were younger they danced in a mirror and never thought they'd do that at night in a bar for money without cloths on. But what's more sexy than that is when they've been working a double and you can tell their economy of movement has been affected and they're sweaty, shiny and they are visibly tired and all of a sudden all that practice goes out the window and they know in their brain how the moves go but their flesh wiggles a little with each move because of how jerky and abrupt their movements are because they just want to be done and get it over with. Is that a fetish?
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