We Did it for Science Male Strippers


My dear friend and co-worker Grant Stoddard writes a column for Nerve called "I Did it for Science." The premise is simple: Ross Martin and I think up fucked-up sexual activities that we know Grant has yet to participate in, and we send him out to experience them first hand and report the findings of his maiden sexual voyages. Grant thus far, in the Name of Science, has bought and tried out a cock ring, hooked up with a dude, had sex with his girlfriend on the subway, and flew out to LA to star as an extra in a Vivid Video porno movie (article coming soon).

So when I found out that CakeNYC was looking for men who had never stripped to dance and give lap dances at their upcoming Cake party, I immediately sent an email to the Cake girls requesting that Grant and I be allowed to dance in the Name of Science...

grant, me
I knew the competition to earn a slot dancing for the night would be fierce, so I quickly busted out my Photoshop skillz and whipped up two tasty fliers advertising our masculinity that I knew would tantalize those Cake minxes. Here's the first image I sent along...
grant, me
...and when that didn't get an immediate response, I upped the ante with "beefcake" version (check out Grant's sassy, coy lil' smile! Tee-hee!) ...and SHA-POW! It worked. Grant and I got the green light: we were going to become male strippers.
emma, grant, lorelei
Before heading over to Joe's Pub to be briefed on our stripping mission, Grant and I downed several drinks and consulted sex-advice experts Em and Lo about the kind of moves we would need to be busting to truly insight female frenzy. (By the way, Grant's wearing that fake moustache because he felt like he'd be inhibited if he didn't have "something to hide behind.")
grant, me
After carefully absorbing the knowledge they bestowed upon us, we struck our first of many "Sexy Poses" of the night.
grant, me
Don't forget about the "bun view!"
jack murnighan, me
Here's a bunch of the guys in the dressing room at Joe's Pub "warming up." After several stiff drinks a piece...
grant, me
...our inner pimps were released. Here we see "Blonde Business Guy" and "70's Karate Man" in full effect and ready to dampen some female seats.
grant
With headband on, Grant gives his "rig" one final adjustment and he's ready to rock. Actually, at this time we were considering engaging in an age old male-stripper practice known as "tying-off." This is where one rubs his member until he's got some "bloodflow downstairs" (also commonly known as a "chubby"). Once chub status has been achieved, one takes a silk scarf or a piece of rope and ties it around the base of the penis, restricting blood flow and keeping the penis engorged.

Basically, doing this makes you look like you have a huge weiner and makes the girls give you more money because they're all too busy fantasizing about your enormous wang to think clearly. But just as we were preparing to "tie off," one of our fellow not-so-novice dancers, told us to be careful. When we asked why, he told us "Dude, if you tie off for more than 20 minutes you run the risk of....(dramatic pause) a rupture." Needless to say, we decided that it would be better for girls to think we had small penises than tie-off and risk having no penises.
grant, jack murnighan
Grant, author Jack Murnighan, and some Medieval-type guy who almost jizzed his pants when he learned that Jack had a PhD in Medievel literature. He kept trying to talk to Jack about various Medieval festivals he'd attended. It was great. What you can't see in this picture is that the Medieval guy is wearing a Crash Test Dummies concert-tee. Boo-Yah!
grant, jack murnighan
From left:"The Guy Who Told Us Not To Tie-Off Or We Might Lose Our Weiners", Jack, Kung-Fu Grant, and some young NYU kid. Jack looks like a real stud, doesn't he? Looking at this photo you'd never guess that he scurried out of the place like a little bitch ten minutes after the event got going.
Here we are queuing up at the curtained entrance that leads out on to the stage...
grant, me
...and here's the view of us peeking out on to the mayhem that was on the stage!

If you look to the right and you'll see Grant and myself waiting our turn to put on our big strip show (Can you see how nervous we are?).
grant, me
Our Nerve co-workers Em & Lo were right in the front row and were supposed to immortalize our maiden strip performance on film for my photo album, but according to Lo, "We got so excited when you two came out that we were so busy yelling and screaming with our arms up in the air that we forgot to take photos."
grant, me
After watching the end of "tighty whitie" man's performance, Grant hustled back to the dressing room to reapply his mustache!
grant
Because Em & Lo were too preoccupied to take photos of us dancing, I lifted these next few photos off of Cake's website (they were all taken by Jenny Schulder). Grant ran out on stage, screamed "My name is Daniel-san!" in the mic, did a jump kick, opened up his karate jacket and then proceeded to rip off the tee-shirt he was wearing underneath! So tough!
me
Look, my clothes aren't even off yet and all the ladies've got their money ready! Aw yeah, boyee. (Too bad they all put their money away once I started getting naked...).
emma, grant, me
At one point in the night, Grant and I gave dirty lap dances to Em & Lo up on stage in front of everyone. (Check out Emma trying to escape my grasp! Hahahaha).
grant
Here's a photo of Grant starting to strip down for a cute girl from NJ who was the first person to buy lap dances from us. Throughout the night, she kept buying more dances and even started buying us rounds of drinks!
grant
Growing more beligerent with each drink she downed, she eventually called us "manwhores" and stormed away because we apparently weren't giving her the attention that she deserved. (And in all fairness to her, considering she bought three rounds of drinks for both Grant and I at $10 a drink, she probably had a right to be unhappy...we're definitely not worth $60!)
grant
So we're back in the dressing room after the night is over and we're changing and getting ready to leave and all of a sudden Grant disapears into the bathroom (leaving me to fend for myself with the girl who followed us back into the dressing room wondering if she could "get a ride home" from us).

Anyway, Grant's taking forever in the bathroom, so finally I knock and he's like "I can't come out." When pressed, he explained that he had a giant boner that wouldn't go away and he wasn't coming out until it either went away or until I fetched his pants so that he wouldn't have to walk around the club and risk poking some poor girl's eye out.
grant
Grant tallies up the Benjamins (okay, the Wahingtons and Lincolns) in my car after we had dropped off the girl looking to get some Hot Male Stripper Double-Dong Actionâ„¢. We both still have her business card that she so smoothly stuffed down our underwear when we were dancing for her!
grant, me
We returned to the safety of the Nerve offices the next day only to receive a standing ovation upon our entrance. We had returned from the land of crazed girls with our egos intact and a fistful of cash taboot. Thanks Cake!