There is absolutely no point to this entry. I am bored and decided to write a tribute to the bar I know and love so well.

There is a bar downtown right next to campus called Jungles. There is only one rule of Jungles, and that is you do not go there if you are of age to drink.

The air perpetually stinks of stale vomit and the bartenders smirk to themselves as they pour shot after shot to college freshmen with big sloppy X's drawn on their hands by bouncers. Many nights I have gone here, usually on Thursdays, but tonight I had to study for Italian so I stayed in. I cautiously order drink after drink, always looking around me for burly men who might be undercover cops, becoming comfortably intoxicated until I work up enough guts to go out onto the dance floor. I can only dance when I'm drunk and I must be with a group of friends. As the night plunges onward the tiny room becomes overcrowded with excited boys looking to reproduce with freshly showered girls. A mixture of smoke, evaporated sweat, and urine hangs in the air right above everyone's head but no one is sober enough to care, and those who are find themselves outside nervously talking on their cell phones or trying to make conversation with incoherent drunkards. At Jungles, everyone seems to be your friend and every song is your favorite. An hour into it all of the effort you put into getting ready has gone to shit, but you think your half opened eyes and slowly rotating hips make you seem like some kind of sultry goddess until you remember to get back home because you have a test at 9 in the morning. Of course, the way back home is polluted with lots of hills that you must endure in excruciating pain because your shoes are rubbing the skin off your feet and your jeans are too tight but they accentuate your ass. Such woe is my life.

Most guys who come here, besides those in your circle of friends, are sketchy, shady members of the opposite sex looking for young naive drunk girls to work their magic on. Oh yes, they seem so nice when they buy you a drink or come up to you and tell you how good you look, but the more they water you with vodka and the more compliments they shower you with the sleazier they are. I know this from experience.

There's also three suspected crack houses on the same street as well as numerous murders, beatings, and muggings that have taken place in the immediate area. Why do kids put their lives on the line to go out, make out with someone they don't know, puke, and wake up craving pasta? The world will never know.