I lived with a stripper when I was in my early twenties and it was NOT as cool a situation as you'd think.

The drugs were rampant...I mean she was a strung out, pole dancing zombie. The men she'd bring home were obviously paying her for sex. And with all that disposable income, she'd still be "broke" when it came time to buy food and other stuff for the house. She stole stuff of mine, drank all the booze, and generally left the place a pig sty worthy of condeming. She tried to make up for all that by coming on to me, even to the point of climbing in to my bed one night and, uh, servicing me. But it didn't make up for all her transgressions. I eventually moved out and never spoke to her again.

I still miss my Mom sometimes but I couldn't live like that.