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Monday, March 12, 2007

The Reggae Dancers

Went to club Ageha again on Saturday night. As usual, there are 3 dance floors. Hip-hop, techno, and reggae. I'll address them in that order.

The hip-hop floor was weak this time. Pretty vanilla crowd. No J-thugs or J-b boys showed up for my entertainment. Some MC started rapping at one point. It was dassai. Not cool. Hmmm, what else. Some random guy tried to pants me. He was doing some drunk weirdo dance (very common to see exteremely weird dances at Japanese clubs), and then just grabbed my jeans and gave a tug. So... yeah... the hip-hop floor was weak.

The techno area is where I spent most of my time. They have a great sound system at this club. There was some "famous" DJ from England. I bet if I mentioned these names to some of my friends back home they'd be impressed, but I don't know any of this shit. Congratulations, you are famous for spinning techno records, let me become a fan. Do you have a myspace? Holly shit! Accept me accept me! Oh wait, there was one funny moment. About 10 minutes after the "famous" DJ came out, this huge scafolding thing with lights and shit all over it started decending. Everyone was clearly excited. Then, just when you expect lasers and smoke machines and confetti, it just rose back up to the ceiling. You got me...

The reggae area. So I've heard tales of the "reggae" dance. This mysterious, erotic, mesmorizing dance performed by beautiful young Japanese women. Well... I done seen it! Yes, it's just 2 girls shaking their asses for 20 minutes. Japanese girls... with no asses. Every so often they would do a handstand and spread their legs and just kinda "pose" like that. I'm surprised an improptu otaku group didn't come out and start taking pictures. The 2 girls tried to do some para-para shit a couple times, but that didn't work. Then they did some sort of "fan my cooch cause it's hot" dance for a while. All throughout this the DJ/MC is screaming in his fake Jamaican accent while playing as many Sean Paul tracks as he has. I dunno...

Hip-hop without the j-thugs. Techno without tweaked out candy kids. Reggae without... sanity. Oh wait! I forgot. There was this 80 year old guy there. Like, dancing and shit. So it was a good... no... superb evening.

Check this out. A rice vending machine by my apartment that I found the other day. Score!

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