Electronic Music, Butt Spasms, and Men with Tentacles

To quickly start things off, I'll begin by telling you that we were disappointed with a club we went to last night. The floor was sticky, the rooms were crowded and the vibe was not something I think most Americans consider 'club like' People here don't dance, and the clubs usually only have dance music in the form of repetitive techno. I think if I hear one more DOOMP I'm going to maim the first person in arm's reach. So to avoid that disaster, we left the club and attempted to move on to a better place (no plan was made, we just started walking). On our journey outward, things got - unsurprisingly - quite amusing, to us at least. Maybe just me. DEFinitely not the locals (who saw that coming). The Brits don't seem to be very keen on meeting us when we travel in large groups. I'm guessing because we become a mass of loud, drunk, gyrating morons when we go out, and since we can never seem to accumulate less than a dozen of us when we go out (*cough*everynight*cough*) we have yet to meet british people and learn from their culture. Not that I need to. For some reason I don't feel like making friends that will be across the Atlantic Ocean when I come home - missing my friends and family right now is hard enough. I guess that's negative and lazy but whatever, I'm emotional. I probably won't have to worry about making that kind of connection however, because I'm sure we've convinced London's general population that we're all idiots. Something that didn't push our case last night whilst trekking out to find a better club, was when 20 of us played a real life game of frogger across the street to catch a bus. We made it across after screaming and flailing our way between speeding cars, but did NOT catch it (at this point some of us were straddling a fence separating us from the sidewalk... one of us couldn't get down). To our surprise, the bus stopped after a few feet of traffic. Those on the ground began to run, flail and scream again while the people stuck on the fence just... screamed and flailed. We missed the bus AGAIN and were stranded on the sidewalk having the poop judged out of us by bystanders. And as if we weren't stewing in enough of our own embarrassment already, one of our friends pinched a nerve in her hamstring. Where it gets embarrassing is when I didn't realize it was a pinched nerve but rather a pulled muscle in her ass. Already having had several shots of tequila I felt it necessary to announce to everyone in earshot, GUYS THIS IS SERIOUS, SHE PULLED HER BUTT. Whoops.

Later we ended up getting separated and I and two others found an awesome Turkish food stand still open at two a.m. and I had the best chicken sandwich ever. Thus was the conclusion of last night.

Tonight was more promising, as there was not as much annoying techno, evasive public transit, or sprained asses. To top it all off, this new club we discovered was covered in pink. What could go wrong? To our demise, we encountered a worser evil... Euro Trash. I'm not talking brightly colored, swishy windbreaker pants, I'm talking gross-ass men. Those that are actually trash for ACTING like trash, and for some reason, they were in force at the club we were so hopeful for. The men there were disgusting. They practically had tentacles creeping from their sleeves. A couple of rico suaves came up to us and Night at the Roxbury-ed a few of the girls. These ones didn't understand the word "no" so they returned for a second time as if the girls they were just pestering magically acquired a burning desire to have sex with a dick head. I ALMOST GOT IN A FIGHT. And by that I mean some guy grabbed my friend's wrist and I was like DON'T TOUCH HER and when he walked away I talked about how I was going to smack a bitch silly. It was intense. Thankfully I didn't unleash the ravenous beast from within upon the fool that thought he was allllllllllllllllllll that and a bag o' sass, but was really just a sack of tanning oil and excessive hair gel. Not all men here are like this, I assure you. I mean, I don't really know because the only interaction we've had with other brits was with creepy hornballs, but I'm sure that's just because the respectable ones are a little turned off by the sudden American invasion that we tend to unintentionally create when going out by the dozen. Regardless, I've definitely about had my fill of London night life. If electronic music is your thing, great, go nuts, glow stick your heart out, but it's not for me. It's probably a good thing, at least now without excessive clubbing, we'll have less opportunity to plant anti-american seeds all over the place. Till next time, my lovelies