I threw up a little bit in my mouth when I read this. Nadya Suleman has had her stripper past outed by a stripper who used to dance with her. Oh, and that is not even the worst part of this story.
Apparently just like with Hitler and Mein Kopf, the Octomom has been telegraphing her punch since the millennium when she was riding the pole under the stage name of "Angelina". The story got broke when InTouch magazine got a stripper named Sage to sing about Suleman's nihilistic past.
"[I] met [Nadya} at an amateur contest and we wound up doing parties together."
Sage's words, reports the magazine, have been backed up by sleazy limo driver Luis Ceballos who claims that Suleman stated constantly how she wanted to be "really famous". The stripper quoted in the story claims that Suleman was an overly flirty dancer who worked hard for her tips and had no issue shaking her ass around to catch the fancy of the hard dicked suckers waiting to fall in love with this sociopath is waiting.
The thing about this is if there is anyone surprised. I mean , no offence to chicks who do what they got to do to make ends meet but mentally picturing the Octomom doing pole stunts to "Girls,Girls,Girls" is not too far of a stretch. She's an attention whore! Of course she got a gig where she would shake her sloppy tits about and get a few bucks from pervos trying to hide from their lonely existence (cause something tells me she was not working at the cool hang out kind of strip clubs. Something tells me that she was shaking her train wreck of a money maker at the sketchy strip clubs usually found near the airport and the docks).
Personally what I found most horrific about the whole thing is that somewhere in southern California, there are men who were willing to part with 20 bucks a song plus tip (and of course the mandatory two drink minimum to get into the joint to begin with) to actually watch this troll shake her ass. Of course, in the interest of full disclosure, I would drop twenty buck now to see that pig shake her tuckus about and hopelessly try to make something... anything... move in my pants. This idea of this loon dancing sexy to K.C. and Jo-Jo for stacks and stacks of singles is both revolting and appropriate. Like watching a car wreck, there would be no turning away your eyes.