A review of The Booby Trap a strip club in Pompano Beach, FL
Pro’s - A fuck book that turns into a holy book that turns into a tree. A threeway that is the sound of one hand clapping.
Con’s - You have to have an appetite for mayhem and absurd theater.
Bottom line - 3.5 stars - Boobs, no cover, and the beer was cheap and cold.
We came in as a stripper was finishing a ventriloquist act where her dummy was berating her for not going to college while simultaneously trying to get her to touch his flaccid penis and maybe sell him some cocaine. It ended with the stripper fisting herself with the dummy and therefore killing him.
Before the next dancer a little old man came out on stage and began fiddling with the pole, he must have been the janitor or stripper pole repairman or something. Then the spotlight came on and the speakers blasted Pour Some Sugar On Me, by Def Leopard and that old man began to shake his ass like a puma that was about to projectile vomit. We all laughed pretty fucking hard but when that ancient little man peeled of his greasy cardigan and work shirt revealing most gorgeous rack I’d ever seen… the air was heavy with stunned cock confusion. We quickly honed our lust though once we realized the old man was just an amazingly hot lady. She peeled off those support shoes and baggy gray woolen slacks revealing an adult diaper. Again the penises where baffled. When she finally did slip outta that soiled diaper we all cheered and breathed a sigh of relief as she hurled it at a table of screaming terrified frat boys. A midget with a limp then came out with a large bucket of sudsy water and cleaned her ass with a long handled brush like it was a circus elephant. And we all slowly recalibrated our desire. The old man makeup on such a sexy woman was still a bit of a strange monster so we tried to time our exaltation as she peeled off her face only to have her reveal a roaring bloody skull. Imagine grown, horny, drunk men hurling and weeping on the floor, writhing like terrified children. As she torn open her chest revealing a light that incinerated our bodies instantly into ash, I remember floating there in disbelief, her soul and ours all glowing orbs of white light. We floated upwards and commingled becoming a rolling awarenss of relaxed desire. Our transaction was complete. The Air Supply song “Making Love Out of Nothing at All” was playing. And the champagne flowed freely.
Tuesday is also ladies night at the Booby Trap and the hottest amateur in attendance wins $500 dollars and a wheel of expensive Brie.
