We humans have some pretty odd pastimes. Shouldn't it be considered strange that hundreds of people will dress up differently from their normal attire, drive long distances, and pay lots of money to be admitted into a small, dark room with music playing so loud it feels like you're losing brain cells with every thud of the bass, with the intent of dancing either by themselves, with friends, or with total strangers, and most likely get completely intoxicated in the process?

Needless to say, I went dancing last night. Since I'm nearing the revolutionary age of 21 (what's so big about 21 anyway?) I thought it would be fun to go to an 18 and up place to pay my respects to the good ol' days of huge black sharpie x's on my hands, and wristband-less wrists. My brother and I met some of his friends at The World...home of every club stereotype in LA. Let me explain: when you have a club that allows anyone in who is willing to fork over $10, you get all kinds. Here are the club stereotypes I saw in a mere three hours last night:

the wheelchair person - that guy or girl who gets on the dance floor and rolls around
the stripper/belly dancer - obviously wearing a tiny bra and mesh/metal skirt that jingles
the transvestite - complete with hairy legs and fake or real breasts (I can never tell)
the black guy with no shirt - no explanation necessary
the girl on crutches - being at a club on crutches would just make me depressed
the flamboyant goth - wearing just a mesh shirt and tight leather pants
the James Bond villain - wearing an Armani suit and an eye patch
the pimp - wearing leopard print jacket and no shirt, always on his cell phone
the white guy - once again...no explanation necessary

Now don't get me wrong...I have nothing against these people...this is just a list of the people you see at every "all admitted" club.

I ended the night by moshing to some oversaturated, angry industrial music