Tag Archives: dance

Britney Will Dance ‘Till The World Ends’… Or For 30 Seconds

Britney Spears debuted her newest music video today, for Till The World Ends, which should be said is a slightly better song than Hold It Against Me, but taking into account the nauseating amount of brain power it takes to get it unstuck from your mind's playlist, it's probably about equal to anything Rebecca Black could give birth to. (Jesus Christ that was a long sentence.) That being said, I'm sure I'll be singing and dancing to this song by the weekend. Brit's video tells the tale of the fated date in the not so distant future, December 21, 2012, when the Mayans predicted the world will end. Brit is held up in a basement with a few of her most beloved back up dancers, grinding up on one another waiting for apocalypse to come only to realize, upon poking her head out of a manhole, that the sun has come up and indeed she will see another day as a 30 year-old (that's how old Britney will be in 2012.) [vodpod id=Video.5930037&w=425&h=350&fv=] Now we all know that ever since Britney went a little cray-cray, she hasn't been the same pop princess she was in her "virgin" years, but someone took extra special care to cut out all the real Britney dance sequences of her latest vid to prove it. Below is the whole 30 seconds of Britney gyrating to prove, once and for all, that Britney Jean Spears can no longer cut a rug. It's really sad, but we all have to face the music (pun intended) some day and realize that Britney is way too drugged up to shake it like she used to. Either that or she's a drone and they haven't figured out how to give robots rhythm yet. God I hope I can still shake my ass when I'm closing in on my third decade of life. And for reference and good measure, here's Britney in her dancing years. Skip to 1:18 for some serious dance skillz. See the difference?

A Feminist’s Guide To Clubbing

Let me just go on record with saying that I HATE clubs! I think there's nothing more vile than a bunch of drunk bridge and tunnelers rubbing against one another in adorned t-shirts to bad remixes of played out songs in seizure inducing strobe light. With that being said, I somehow found myself at a club this weekend and it brought me back to a time in my life (that I'd rather forget) of when I was a club rat. Yes I know, it's shocking but true. I never really dug the club scene, it was more the dancing I liked, and when I was a younger thing, boy did I like me some dancing. So as I was sitting in this loud, throbbing club, getting a lap dance from three beautiful men at the same time (what can I say? That's how I roll), I pondered to myself, how had I done it and managed to keep my dignity? Let's explore this with the age-old 5Ws & an H! How To Drink? Now for most of the people I know, the general consensus is if you want to enjoy a club you need to be drunk (my freshman year of college testifies to this.) If you want to maintain your swagger and not be all bloaty (a problem if you're donning your Saturday Night Worst) then nix the beer, wine will just make you sleepy, cocktails are an arm and a leg, go with hard liquor... and lots of it! Side Note: I'm not encouraging anyone to get drunk... not unless you want to. Also: Flasks = Friends Who To Avoid/Befriend? Anyone with spiked/gelled hair... so all men in the club. Anyone who dances with their hands, unless they're from Europe. Bouncers. Other girls. Side Note: Girls that you did not go with are not your friends, stick with your own and don't stray from the pack. As for bartenders, they're good-looking for a reason, they want your money. Don't try flirting, they're too busy. Now who you want to be in with is the bathroom attendant, they've got the goods. As the night goes on people drink more and more and with the mixture of skinny bitches, vodka/crans and skin tight hoochie dresses the bathroom line will be long and they will run out of TP. Now unless you're willing to drip-dry, you've got to make friends with the bathroom attendant and she'll hook you up: TP, lollipops, cigarettes, condoms, a spanking paddle (I've been offered all of these.) Also, promoters, if you have a vagina, you get in for free. Now this goes in with drinking, you want hard liquor, who has that? Men who want to meet women get table service, you have to flirt for it, but you can hook yourself up with a free Grey Goose... or in one shameful case, slyfully grab a bottle of Captain Morgan from a group of machismos when they're not looking. I said it was shameful! Read more after the jump! Continue reading A Feminist’s Guide To Clubbing