Nightclubs
Clubbing is to a good time as highschool is to higher education; so far removed from one and other, they're barely related.
Clubs have nothing going for them. The music, people, cost, and things to do there are all the worst that society has to offer. All housed under one roof is an example of everything that makes me see red. For instance, clubs are expensive. There’s the cover, the tip for the bouncer, the insanely high price of alcohol, the bartenders’ tip, and the price of your self-respect.
As well, the people you meet a clubs are just awful. Shallow, vapid, clueless, and self-centered are nouns all patrons of nightclubs can be described with. The dregs of upper society go there to pretend to feel better about themselves. It doesn't work.
Clubs are designed to lure in women, so they’re slanted toward providing an experience pleasing to women. Women are shallow, materialistic, and like shiny pink stuff. Clubs are decorated accordingly; glitter and neon paint everywhere, like a five year old threw a tantrum during arts and crafts. Clubs don’t need to attract men, because men follow the women. Like moths to a flame, they gather. Wallets open, minds empty, they follow the sound of awful music, and the scent of peroxide and insecurity.
The music is music that appeals to blonde sorority whores with fake tits, I.E. complete crap. Often it’s a song from the top 10 that sucks to being with, forcibly mated with a repetitive techno track. Fuck techno, and fuck you if you like it.
The biggest problem with nightclubs is that they’re little more than glorified daycares for people who refuse to grow up. Pay your two bits at the door, and get drunk on $15 martinis. This accomplished, work up the nerve to make a fool of yourself on the dance floor, swaying awkwardly to shitty music. Find a woman seeking validation (that being every woman in a nightclub), and feed it to her. Convince her to blow you in the bathroom. You get off, she dies a little inside, and everyone wins, because you retards are off the streets. You’re not wandering the streets, screaming and hollering and waking me up.
I would rather give myself a lobotomy with a nailgun than go to a nightclub. I would rather gargle broken glass and bleach, and shove my arm in a wood chipper. If you ever invite me to go clubbing, or even hint that it sounds like fun, I will feed you your own teeth.