I've never been comfortable going into a Topless Bar.

Oh they're called different names depending on who or where you are. Nudie Joints, Titty Clubs, Boobie Bars. My favorite is when they are called Gentlemen's Clubs. Whenever I go to a "Gentlemen's Club," the guys that are there could rarely be described as "gentlemen." They're usually guys who've just been paid and have a very practiced leer.

Regardless, I've never felt comfortable going inside one. I always feel bad for the girls that are stripping. I walk in fully clothed and these poor women are prancing around with nary a stitch. It always makes me want to take my clothes off to make them more comfortable. If everyone is naked, no one will feel like they're being stared at, right?

Today I got a call from an old friend that I've known for years. He's leaving this week to move to another city and he wanted to throw himself a going away party. He decided to have the party at the place where he works as a manager.

A Topless Bar.

I am in the middle of an eight-day tour of Alaska and the countryside is not the only thing that looks bleak.

I was fortunate enough to have been invited on a cruise from Vancouver to Glacier Bay and the Inner Passage. I’ve done comedy on cruises many times so the only new aspects for me are the locale and the fact that I’m not working directly for the cruise line.

I have been asked to come along as part of a private party for the hosts and listeners of a morning radio show in Austin who have decided to spend their vacation here. This means that I can do whatever I want at the show and don’t have to worry about offending children or seniors at the show.

We went to a hot sauce festival.

In Texas.

In August.

With the rest of the morons who couldn’t seem to get enough torture from the Texas heat in August..

Here is some perspective if you’ve never done anything that approaches the idiocy of that move...

It’s like walking into a party in the ninth circle of hell and standing in line for two hours until you get to the front.

There’s a line from an old movie that goes…

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

While that may be true, it’s not necessarily a good thing.

When two people are first dating, they tend to put their best feet forward and try to make themselves appear as desirable as possible. This means that they would never do anything as gauche as belching in front of the other person or wiping snot onto their own shirtsleeves.

But when love comes to town everything changes.

It’s been ten days since I’ve had a cigarette.

I haven’t been able to say that for over twenty years.

I was able to get through the first three days with a drug called Chantix, which inhibits the nicotine receptors in the brain, which means you go through the withdrawals before you actually quit smoking so they’re not as severe.

The drug could only do so much, however. About three days in I found myself in short supply of both Chantix and willpower. It was then that I discovered the Greatest Anti-Smoking Drug in the World.

Benadryl.

Yep. I popped one of those suckers and washed it down with a beer and within ten minutes I didn’t want a cigarette anymore. It’s amazing how much willpower you can muster when you’re completely unconscious