Is it true though? Or are the tabloids just running exaggerated fantasies to harpoon mass appeal? It’s hard to know because these grandiose lifestyles are perpetuated by the attention drawn to them (unless the celebrity is actually talented). Case in point — the Kardashian sex tape.

Bad publicity is good publicity, I suppose… especially for the venues that become associated with celebrity attendance (who doesn’t want to go to places where you might see a rockstar in a bar fight or catch Paris Hilton stripping down to… well… a slightly more naked version of her usual self?).

When talking about club publicity, nothing turns up the temp on a particular venue more than the drug habits of the celebrities. The scandalous behaviors of one Miss Britney Spears has made headlines for a variety of clubs in New York including an all time personal favorite, Marquee. Yes, she has been caught using drugs in the public bathrooms all around town and she’s not the only one. The question then becomes, of course, how many drugs are being done in these places? Certainly you run a high risk (pun intended) of being caught abusing drugs if you are a celebrity, but what about us ordinary folk? Are drugs swimming through the clubs as the tabloids would have us believe?

The answer is YES. I would never consider myself a drug abuser, but I know first hand that almost every club I have been to has it’s own underground microcosmic drug scene. Club Stereo was closed last year after several cocaine busts, though this came as no shock as Stereo was known for being “pot friendly” and leaving the club was like opening the Scoobie Doo van (smoke pouring out). Tenjune turns the other cheek when it comes to smoking the reefer in the VIP section and won’t ask why there are so many girls leaving the bathroom with runny noses. The real shocker comes from Le Souk where I witnessed some special k being snorted in the wide open.

I have also witnessed people getting arrested. Again, Club Stereo, you win in this department with flying colors. On two — no three occasions I witnessed drug raids there, but in the end, drug use was far far more frequent than the arrests that were made. This can probably be said true for almost any club and can be said especially true for celebrities. Amongst my celebrity encounters few involved sobriety (or much respect for, I dunno… THE LAW). Indeed, the Studio 54 mentality lives on in places like Bungalow 8 (where you might just order “a rum and coke.. hold the rum”).

These scenes are often under the radar of the public because of tight security. It’s nearly impossible to get in unless you know someone, ARE a celebrity or (at the very least) have your very own assistant. Places rarely have to answer to the law because undercover cops simply do not fit the demographic of these super-dooper (more like super-doper) high-end venues.

This doesn’t mean that the celebrity lives we read about aren’t embellished to perfection, but it certainly adds validity to the stories. The truth of the matter is, we aren’t living lives so separate from those we read about and if anything can be learned from the tabloids, it’s two things: 1) where the drugs are 2) where people get caught doing them.

There were tons of adorable nerdy boys wearing glasses and semi-skinny jeans who looked like they’d just come to chill and have a good time with their friends. Yeah, there were a few desperate-looking ones in buttoned-down collared shirts and pressed slacks, but I just ignored them. I couldn’t understand why my friend S (identity protection) always complained to me about not being able to find datable girls in Los Angeles, there seemed to be plenty of cute guys. So I decided to put myself in his shoes, and I looked around for girls. It was an eye opener.

To start with, there were five guys to every girl, and for every normal-looking, attractive girl, there were ten über-slutty ones. I saw one majorly stacked blonde wearing a blue dress so low cut I could practically see the surgery scars on her nipples. Fake tans, platinum extensions, and cheap stilettos were everywhere. We weren’t in some swanky bar on Sunset, and these girls weren’t going to find their future investment banker husband here, this was Barney’s, a bar full of currently unemployed, future TV showrunners. I suddenly felt incredibly bad for S.

S lives in West Hollywood and the majority of his friends in his neighborhood are gay men; on most nights he ends up with them at a gay bar, like The Abbey on Roberston. I tell him he should come down to visit me in Santa Monica, but he responds with an enthusiastic “No!” declaring it way too far. Now I’m going to have to spend the summer convincing him it’s worth braving the 10 freeway in order to get laid.

The same way that New York is a city of immigrants, Los Angeles is a city of re-locaters, people who have come from all over America to the Dream Coast, trying to chase their Hollywood fantasy. This means two things: one, cute film-geek guys who can play six-degrees of Steven Spielberg and quote “The Big Lebowski” ‘til you’re suddenly craving White Russians and bowling; and two, faux blonde, faux breasted girls who came to LA to be actresses.

Turns out, this is not a good city to be a single, straight guy. My mission now is to get S out of West Hollywood. I love WeHo (a compound word never to be said aloud) because you can walk to dinner at Real Food Daily (yummy vegan burritos), get coffee at Urth Café (yucky Lindsay Lohan sightings), and search for vintage treasures at the Melrose Trading Post, but you’re not going to find a straight, normal girl there. The same goes for guy scoping.

Barney’s had straight women and men, but most bars in West Hollywood are for the man-on-man, so my advice to those of you who live in an area like West Hollywood, populated by same-sex love, but prefer those with different genitalia than your own, you’re going to have to get in your car and venture out of your comfort zone. It’s worth the gas money, and you can even bump boots in the back of your ride.

[photo of hot flaming dudes from laist.com] 

Karaoke is an un-paralleled public event, in which a single song can bring an entire establishment together and entertain friends and complete strangers alike. There is no other high like it in the night life.

My love of karaoke has been several years in the making. Nights of karaoke in several cities — even states — has taught me a lot, and I am delighted to share my findings with the rest of the world.

It is through my many hours of ‘research’ that I have honed the fine art of karaoke. It is all in the song selection, ideally one that the majority of other people know. I am a firm believer that there is an appropriate karaoke song for every person and occasion. For instance:

Girls night out: It is important to pick songs significant to the female persuasion. Something girls can sing along with are perfect choices, like Pat Benatar’s “hit me with your best shot” or the classic, “Like a Virgin” by Madonna.

For the extremely shy: If the idea of a solo act is not your cup of tea, you need not avoid the stage. Instead, pick a song that encourages major audience sing-along, less people will actually hear you. Sure fire audience sing-along songs, “Don’t stop believin’” by Journey or “Under Pressure” by David Bowie. I guarantee these songs will result in at least half of the fellow patrons joining in – probably more.

An unexpected sighting of an ex: To salvage a potential night-ruiner sing “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon, (this I know from experience.) It is easy enough to play off as coincidental, with just the right amount of a slap in the face.

Looking to do some major entertaining: Solid crowd pleasing always ensues with songs like the Back To The Future classic, “Get out of my car” by Billy Ocean. Or, the ridiculous but hilarious “Safety Dance.” Bonus points for any kind of dance during your performance.

If the solo act is just too much: Round up a duet partner and try out the ever-popular Grease soundtrack (best for a cutesy couple), or give thought to “Take Me Or Leave Me” from the Rent soundtrack, especially if you are amongst a crowd who appreciates musical theatre (specifically gay bars). And for the more urban crowd, “Promiscuous” by Nelly Fertado and Timbaland always evoke collective head nodding.

When you just want to have a little fun: On those nights when you have had a few and are feeling particularly brave and in the mood for trying to attract a fellow or two, I would suggest “Straight Up” by Paula Abdul. The song doesn’t require a lot of talent but is sassy enough to get you some attention.

As a seasoned veteran of karaoke nights I would also like to offer a few performance tips: Alcohol can almost always enhance a karaoke night, for both performers and audience alike. However, moderation is key – if your last drink made you feel that you your vocals are the second coming of Christina Aguilera, seriously re-think your performance.

Also, keep things fun. While you may think that your talents are best displayed through a soulful rendition of “These Hands” by Jewel, sad and/or slow songs can depress people and really slow the night down, regardless of your talent. Remember, it’s karaoke. Save your soulful songs for your American Idol tryout. Lastly, while sometimes the heat of the spotlight can be a bit much for some people to tackle alone, please limit yourself to 2 back-up singers, otherwise you blur the line between Karaoke fun and sorority sing-along.

Happy singing!