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Ho Down
Pimp 'n' Ho parties have been popular for years. Someone asked me if I thought it was because Julia Roberts's character in the movie Pretty Woman glamorized prostitution. I think it's because of the hip-hop culture, which seems to embrace this type of thing. I was surprised when I attended my first Pimp 'n' Ho party and didn't see a bunch of rap wannabes. The crowd was a mix of people from their early 20s to a few in their 40s. Most people were 30-somethings, and everyone was dressed as a pimp or a ho.
I didn't feel like I had the pimp look down. I wore a full-length leather jacket, a few chains around my neck, and a toothpick in my mouth. After parking I met three women and walked in with them. They looked like my "stable of bitches," as I told someone at the door.
This was the third annual party this couple had thrown at their Clairemont home. They had Mexican food catered and two kegs of beer. In the kitchen were bottles of booze. The invitation suggested bringing your own bottle.
I grabbed a Coke and talked with two guys playing pool. One of them told me that the couple living here spent $80,000 renovating the house, and that before the renovations the pool table barely fit.
Someone walked by me who looked like Kid Rock and I said, "Cool cane." He said, "A cane is something old people use. Or people that are limping. This is a pimp stick, bro."
A big guy walked by and someone said, "He looks like Jabba the Pimp."
Two other guys were talking about how hot all the women were. A woman in her late 30s heard these guys talking and said to me, "What? Those guys are going to try to scam on those sluts that are dancing?" I said, "I don't think you can assume they are sluts. After all, they are supposed to dress this way for the theme of the party." She thought about it for a second, and then said, "No. I still think they're real ho's."
While talking to her and her husband, a sexy woman walked by, and she said, "I wanna see her ass after she has three kids." I asked, "Do you have three kids?" She said, "No, only two. But still."
Her husband, who reminded me of Tom Selleck, looked smooth in his suspenders. He was handing out fake $100 bills to women. "Isn't it supposed to be the women giving their pimps money?" I asked him.
There was an ice sculpture near the swimming pool that was carved into the shape of a naked woman. Two guys who were dressed more like gangsters than pimps were pouring vodka down it, while others waited their turn to put their mouth at the other end of the woman's icy feet and drink the vodka.
I overheard the owner of the house saying he spent $2,000 on this party. He had a DJ spinning dance tunes, and there was a dance floor set up with lights. Having a DJ in your back yard makes it easy to find the party. The second I turned down their street I could hear the music.
There was an interesting variety of costumes. Some looked like pimps from '70s TV shows, with fedoras and colorful suits. One African-American guy with dreads was wearing a bathrobe. The DJ kept calling him Hugh Hefner.
I saw about 20 people with Elvis-style sunglasses. A few people had afro wigs.
Someone told me that the homeowner had been in the military and now owns a car dealership. "So half this crowd is military. The other half is car dealers. And the best part about him renovating his house is that they put a bathroom that you can get to from the back yard. It's really convenient. And I'm not so sure if I had this many people at a party I'd want them walking down my hallway to find the bathroom. Especially after the amount of drinking they do. I've seen a few people at parties that either didn't make it to the bathroom, or they puked while waiting in a line to use one."
I talked to two different women about their costumes. One was a heavyset lady with a fan in her hands, which made her look like the madam of a brothel. She told me she had made her outfit herself.
A younger woman had a candy bra. When I commented on it, she said, "My underwear is candy, too." She pulled up her plaid mini-skirt to show me the line of candy going up her backside. I later saw her showing others at the party, and I heard her say it wasn't that comfortable.
A few guys started a poker game indoors. One person asked them, "How can you guys want to play poker when all these hotties are outside? There's a real ho-down going on out there!" None of them even looked up from their cards.
The invitation stated that this party would go "until 'the man' runs us out." That happened at 11:30 p.m. Four cop cars showed up, leading one person to ask, "Don't they have real crime to fight? It should only take one cop to tell us to turn the volume down."
But they didn't tell us to turn the volume down. They told us the party was over. The homeowner grabbed the DJ's microphone and said, "Everyone leave. Take your ho with you, not someone else's."
His wife was talking with the police officers near the front door, while another officer was at the DJ booth watching the guy pack up his equipment.
I saw a woman grabbing chairs to put them away, so I decided to stay and help them put tables and chairs away.
As I was leaving I noticed the guys were still playing poker. I wondered if cops ever shut down poker games. Last I heard, it was illegal to gamble.
Crash your party? Call 619-235-3000 x421 and leave an invitation for Josh Board.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Ho Down
Ho Down
Pimp 'n' Ho parties have been popular for years. Someone asked me if I thought it was because Julia Roberts's character in the movie Pretty Woman glamorized prostitution. I think it's because of the hip-hop culture, which seems to embrace this type of thing. I was surprised when I attended my first Pimp 'n' Ho party and didn't see a bunch of rap wannabes. The crowd was a mix of people from their early 20s to a few in their 40s. Most people were 30-somethings, and everyone was dressed as a pimp or a ho.
I didn't feel like I had the pimp look down. I wore a full-length leather jacket, a few chains around my neck, and a toothpick in my mouth. After parking I met three women and walked in with them. They looked like my "stable of bitches," as I told someone at the door.
This was the third annual party this couple had thrown at their Clairemont home. They had Mexican food catered and two kegs of beer. In the kitchen were bottles of booze. The invitation suggested bringing your own bottle.
I grabbed a Coke and talked with two guys playing pool. One of them told me that the couple living here spent $80,000 renovating the house, and that before the renovations the pool table barely fit.
Someone walked by me who looked like Kid Rock and I said, "Cool cane." He said, "A cane is something old people use. Or people that are limping. This is a pimp stick, bro."
A big guy walked by and someone said, "He looks like Jabba the Pimp."
Two other guys were talking about how hot all the women were. A woman in her late 30s heard these guys talking and said to me, "What? Those guys are going to try to scam on those sluts that are dancing?" I said, "I don't think you can assume they are sluts. After all, they are supposed to dress this way for the theme of the party." She thought about it for a second, and then said, "No. I still think they're real ho's."
While talking to her and her husband, a sexy woman walked by, and she said, "I wanna see her ass after she has three kids." I asked, "Do you have three kids?" She said, "No, only two. But still."
Her husband, who reminded me of Tom Selleck, looked smooth in his suspenders. He was handing out fake $100 bills to women. "Isn't it supposed to be the women giving their pimps money?" I asked him.
There was an ice sculpture near the swimming pool that was carved into the shape of a naked woman. Two guys who were dressed more like gangsters than pimps were pouring vodka down it, while others waited their turn to put their mouth at the other end of the woman's icy feet and drink the vodka.
I overheard the owner of the house saying he spent $2,000 on this party. He had a DJ spinning dance tunes, and there was a dance floor set up with lights. Having a DJ in your back yard makes it easy to find the party. The second I turned down their street I could hear the music.
There was an interesting variety of costumes. Some looked like pimps from '70s TV shows, with fedoras and colorful suits. One African-American guy with dreads was wearing a bathrobe. The DJ kept calling him Hugh Hefner.
I saw about 20 people with Elvis-style sunglasses. A few people had afro wigs.
Someone told me that the homeowner had been in the military and now owns a car dealership. "So half this crowd is military. The other half is car dealers. And the best part about him renovating his house is that they put a bathroom that you can get to from the back yard. It's really convenient. And I'm not so sure if I had this many people at a party I'd want them walking down my hallway to find the bathroom. Especially after the amount of drinking they do. I've seen a few people at parties that either didn't make it to the bathroom, or they puked while waiting in a line to use one."
I talked to two different women about their costumes. One was a heavyset lady with a fan in her hands, which made her look like the madam of a brothel. She told me she had made her outfit herself.
A younger woman had a candy bra. When I commented on it, she said, "My underwear is candy, too." She pulled up her plaid mini-skirt to show me the line of candy going up her backside. I later saw her showing others at the party, and I heard her say it wasn't that comfortable.
A few guys started a poker game indoors. One person asked them, "How can you guys want to play poker when all these hotties are outside? There's a real ho-down going on out there!" None of them even looked up from their cards.
The invitation stated that this party would go "until 'the man' runs us out." That happened at 11:30 p.m. Four cop cars showed up, leading one person to ask, "Don't they have real crime to fight? It should only take one cop to tell us to turn the volume down."
But they didn't tell us to turn the volume down. They told us the party was over. The homeowner grabbed the DJ's microphone and said, "Everyone leave. Take your ho with you, not someone else's."
His wife was talking with the police officers near the front door, while another officer was at the DJ booth watching the guy pack up his equipment.
I saw a woman grabbing chairs to put them away, so I decided to stay and help them put tables and chairs away.
As I was leaving I noticed the guys were still playing poker. I wondered if cops ever shut down poker games. Last I heard, it was illegal to gamble.
Crash your party? Call 619-235-3000 x421 and leave an invitation for Josh Board.
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