OK, so Dave wasn't exactly laugh-out-loud hilarious (or even guffaw-lightly-to-yourself funny), but he was kinda cute. I love the gap between his teeth, and his nervous, Midwestern guy kinda vibe. Oh, and his poofy hair.
You always hear about some poor sap who falls in love with the female stripper he pays to be nice to him and "dance" in his lap. Watching these dudes on The Ricki Lake Show (how random was it that she had her own show?), I have a hard time imagining the reverse. They can have the hottest bodies in the world, but male strippers just make me — and a lot of women, I suspect — giggle.
In this old episode of Punk'd, Jessica Alba goes shopping, and while she's trying stuff on, she has to endure a man who insists on walking around the store totally naked. This was a while ago, before Jessica had a baby, colored her hair, and
Dax Shepard (that naked dude is Dax Shepard, right, and why do I know that?) dated Kate Hudson or Kristin Bell. I'm not sure I would've been as patient as she is!
From the covers of Harlequin Romances to the television screens of America and beyond. Fabio of the golden tresses and the freakishly cut chest was a mystery when he busted onto the scene. Let's eavesdrop as such luminaries as porn star Ron Jeremy and Roseanne Barr attempt to figure out what makes Fabio tick.
But wait. I haven't even gotten to the best part yet. They're stripping to Simply Red's "If You Don't Know Me By Now."
I'm not exactly mastering love, sex, and dating in the 2000s, so I guess this wouldn't hurt.
Not that everything's perfect now, but holy freaking crap! Let's just draw a woman's hot body, decapitate her, and add on the product we're selling where her head used to be (in this case, Hostess Sno-Balls), and continue our sexist ad in the writing below, because the picture doesn't quite say enough! (I'm suddenly having a craving for a well-stacked, cream-filled leggy Sno-Ball!
I remember catching this on cable one late night (it's not on DVD) and feeling like I'd fallen into another dimension. Directed by Trent Harris,
The Beaver Trilogy is supposed to be a documentary, but let's just say it's loosely a documentary. It's about oddballs Trent met while on his travels, as well as Sean Penn and Crispin Glover acting like those oddballs.
Some people say we're headed for/already in a recession. I hope we don't go into a depression, because it looks like Depression-era forms of amusement like this potato game (circa 1933) would have turned the most optimistic person into a shell of their former selves. Let's hope these folks were drinking.
Why don't dancers dressed like strippers do interpretive dance to contemporary music anymore? Why, why, why? (Gotta love the periodic explosions, too!)
