Nightclubbing
Tonight I went out clubbing. It's unusual that this is unusual, because more than anything I'm a nightlife reporter. And as a professional nightclubber, I'm often on the guest list and hooked up with drinks but still I can't find a single friend who will go out clubbing with me, so I often don't go out when I could.
Dear Fans, What the fuck? I don't want to call you a bunch of losers, but you're forcing me to.
Tonight renewed my faith in clubbing, and screw all y'all: I'm going out by myself more often. People, do you remember what it's like? The magic? How getting down to some disco mind-blower makes you feel like you can jump through the ceiling of the club? Do you remember how you can stomp on the dancefloor and not feel a thing because you have astronaut feet? That's what it's all about.
I'm writing an article that I can't discuss but let's just say that Non-Stop Bhangra is the low-attitude monthly party with a dance lesson at the beginning and it's fabuloid. I was thinking that all the party needed was some fags tearing it up on the dancefloor, then I looked over and there they were. Thank you, token gays. You were the sprinkles on my dance party cupcake. A perfect club night.
So then I walked over to another club where people were getting down and some of them were giving me the intense stare that might intimidate some people but I instantly recognized as the ecstasy-eyes.
Fans, you know you're a retired raver when seeing people on ecstasy makes you nostalgic.
On the cab ride home, the driver grilled me on just what was going on at the club, what kind of people go there, is ten15 a gay club and how about the endup, etc. I think I did a good job at representing. That's my duty to the cause. I am club trash. Hear me roar.
Dear Fans, What the fuck? I don't want to call you a bunch of losers, but you're forcing me to.
Tonight renewed my faith in clubbing, and screw all y'all: I'm going out by myself more often. People, do you remember what it's like? The magic? How getting down to some disco mind-blower makes you feel like you can jump through the ceiling of the club? Do you remember how you can stomp on the dancefloor and not feel a thing because you have astronaut feet? That's what it's all about.
I'm writing an article that I can't discuss but let's just say that Non-Stop Bhangra is the low-attitude monthly party with a dance lesson at the beginning and it's fabuloid. I was thinking that all the party needed was some fags tearing it up on the dancefloor, then I looked over and there they were. Thank you, token gays. You were the sprinkles on my dance party cupcake. A perfect club night.
So then I walked over to another club where people were getting down and some of them were giving me the intense stare that might intimidate some people but I instantly recognized as the ecstasy-eyes.
Fans, you know you're a retired raver when seeing people on ecstasy makes you nostalgic.
On the cab ride home, the driver grilled me on just what was going on at the club, what kind of people go there, is ten15 a gay club and how about the endup, etc. I think I did a good job at representing. That's my duty to the cause. I am club trash. Hear me roar.
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