Friday Schoop shows up to hang out. I got maybe 6 hours of sleep, and was still in zombie-land to a certain extent. The three of us hung out but I wasn't really enjoying myself - was a little too focused on trying to stay awake. This bout of insomnia's been a tricky motherfucker. In any case we try a three player game of Runebound that has too many extra decks in it and pretty much sucks. We actually don't finish the game and spend a few minutes talking about the suckage, and I lie down on the couch and fall semi-asleep, telling them to let me know when we decide something else to play and I'll be into it, and apologizing for my narcolepsy. We play a game of History of the World, which, despite being complex, is relatively mindless, and play it for a game, before getting into a fun, silly little game called Pirate's Cove that, despite being broken to hell with a few game-breaking cards, isn't bad, and we play it for a few games. Finally it's 8:00, we order pizza again, and when we're done Schoop takes off.

Toph and I discuss making this the "night o' debauchery", as I was calling it, and decide it wasn't too late to hit the strip club. By the time Schoop leaves it's close to 10:00 and we hop in the car to head to a Deja Vu in Ypsilanti. We're there for a couple of hours and we have a good time, and I manage to stay awake (tits in the face will do that I suppose).

Strip clubs and me are always an interesting mix. I know all the conventional wisdom, I know that they're just after my cash, etc., etc., etc. I'm not stupid. But at the same time, by virtue of what I'm looking for, I'm a lot less likely to give up my hard-earned cash to the girls that come off like an optimized cash-seeking algorithm. You know the ones, that tirelessly approach whatever guys they can until they find someone who wants a dance, that lead you back to the couch with a spring in their step, and that when they're done, shimmy their ass back to the room as quickly as possible so as to try and get another dance in before the next song. The girls that I go after are the ones that can convince me that they're genuinely interested, even when on a cerebral level I know they're not. Kevin Smith put up a great blog entry on strip clubs here, but I still maintain that there's a middle ground to be had, where you are clear about what you want and yet don't manage to represent the male gender as nothing but horny retards. It's a weird balance. I think it means that when it comes to me and strip clubs, I either attract the few genuine ones or the most perspicacious and best actors of the bunch.

In any case, I blew a bit over $100, which was about what I planned, and we headed back. I crashed by 2:00, and slept for 13 hours straight. Woah. I'd like to claim that it was because of the release of tension due to the couple hours spent in the strip club, but it's probably more along the lines of finding Toph's non-non-drowsy allergy medication :)