To wit (re: Fubar in West Hollywood):
The crowd here is pretty sleazy, but not nearly as sleazy as Fubar
wishes the crowd would be. When the MC begs everyone to get drunk, and
offers free drinks to shirtless guys as an incentive, he sometimes
seems like a Jewish mother urging some kids at a Bar Mitzvah to dance
to a slow song.
And re: Biege, the model-rific fashion-y party franchised in NY and LA:
This Tuesday night party is for fashionistas who are constantly
struggling between their two very mutually exclusive pursuits: daring
fashion and sex with men who are looking for frat-boy types. It’s no
wonder everyone ends up going home alone.
Lastly, re: Rage, that WeHo mainstay:
I don’t pretend to be objective here, and there are obviously many
people out there who really like this place. Eighteen-year-olds
snorting Adderol on the drive up from Anaheim; sixty-year-olds who say
they’re thirty-five on Craigslist and sing along without shame to the
latest shitty remix of Beyonce’s latest shitty song; glittered-up dudes
who keep the hoods of their hoodies over their heads the entire night;
and chola faghags who wear their cellulite like it’s an accessory…all
of those people love it here, and maybe you will too.
Keep up the good work, Kid. We’ll see you in line for the bathroom.
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