This whole weekend I have been trying to not think about the world shattering catastrophe. I really didn't want to anything because it seemed pointless, but then again I didn't want to hear any more bad news. Saturday night we [Brad, Melissa, Jason Slaughter, Nathan and myself] decided to check out Space. The cover was pretty high. $10 for girls, $15 for guys. As soon as we walked in there was a fat man/lady on a swing suspended from the ceiling throwing things into the crowd. We walked around for awhile and then headed to the dance floor. There was barely any room to move. We were in front of the stage or whatever you call it. A wack fake dominatrix jumped up on stage and was smacking crowd peoples' asses. Then the swing man/lady came on stage and did some stuff. Each one of these performances had pyrotechnics, fireworks and explosions accompanying them. The last performance we saw was this zebra hat drag queen and cat makeup skinny man dancing and doing wack things. I'm convinced that all of them had prosthetic butts. We decided to leave after the skinny cat who kept flicking his tongue was done with his animal dances. My hair was so dusty and itchy from the pyrotechnic shrapnel, not to mention my ears were blew out from the noise of the explosions. For a building that big and a name like Space. They dance floor ain't have no kind of space. And that trance music will wear down your nerves too.