“Everyone needs a go-go dancer in their life.” – JB

I was the facilitator of a sex driven real life OkCupid, and was no stranger to a Mike Hans event. Zero and JB were in glory, ogling the vast array of half naked women. “Who’s that? NO! THAT?! or thaaaat?? UGHH!” JB exclaimed while picking his jaw up from the floor. As usual, Zero took the classy approach, scanning the room tediously for his future ex-wife. A sign on the wall read “NO PANTS DANCE PARTY”, I couldn’t help but laugh. I tapped Zero and pointed at the sign. “If Clutch were here, you know he would have taken that literally…even though it clearly states it’s for the ladies.” I said chuckling. Zero nodded while adjusted his tie grinning.

Photography by: Adam Burton, A.B Vear Photography.

It took a minute to process the debauchery. Women were scantly dressed, teasing guys with tape and short skirts. Lurkers stood quietly by the makeshift stage, generously donating dollar bills to the girls’ “college tuition”. Most of the men huddled together, loudly discussing the bountiful booties that graced the room. Some were placing wagers on who would win the naughty schoolgirl contest. I flashed the beer signal; a head nod with a tilt toward the bar. Zero and JB concurred, nodding back. It was an obstacle course of stumbling, slurring zombies that yearned for boob instead of brain. Hmm, where have I heard that before? JB pressed forward making a path to the bar. A special event like this called for special drinks; a deviation from our typical Pabst order. Zero and JB were engrossed in a conversation. “There’s a beer that you’re supposed to drink on a hiking trail…,” Zero said pointing at a can. “That settles that. We’ll take two of your finest hiking beers,”  JB said to the bearded bartender. “You guys are ridiculous,” I added, ordering a gin and ginger ale.

Photography by: Adam Burton, A.B Vear Photography.

We slowly made our way back to the stage where the girls were dancing. “BOOOOOBSSSS” groaned JB, arms extended, doing his best zombie impression. I slapped my hand to my forehead, shaking my head.  “Oh boy, here we go,” I said to Zero. He wasn’t paying attention at this point, one of the girls had caught his eye. I searched the room for some of my other friends. The living room sized room was littered with priests, punks, naughty school girls, and of course, Mother Michael, in his finest nun costume. Girls were lined up eager to spin the Wheel of Perversion. The chance of winning a raffle ticket, sex toy, or free drink was too good to pass up.

Photography by: Adam Burton, A.B Vear Photography.

Dirty Wasted was on a roll; Mother Michael announced the naughty schoolgirl contest was about to begin. He lead the naughtiest of the bunch to the stage. As more women with less clothing appeared, people whistled and panted like the Big Bad Wolf at the enticing morsels. One by one, girls teased and taunted the crowd, behavior worthy of a Catholic school ruler whipping. The crowd went crazy, cheering wildly for each of the girls, as they tried to determine the winner.

Photography by: Adam Burton, A.B Vear Photography.

For such a wild evening, the night wound to quick and quiet close. They announced last call and the winning raffle numbers for the notorious sex toy prizes. Zero, JB and I said our goodbyes and slowly descended the dimly lit stairway, recapping the night’s naughtiest girls. Dirty Wasted Thursday, as always, had done it again.

The bottom line:
Dirty Wasted Thursday is not an event for the devout, the easily offended, or the faint of heart. If you’re looking for “no holds barred” go-go style debauchery…look no further. Drinks are very reasonable, with excellent bartenders serving them up all night long. It’s like a monthly Christmas celebration, where the only list that matters is the naughty list.

Photography by: Adam Burton, A.B Vear Photography.
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