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Men want her; women want to be her. You suspect they used to wear monocles, or perhaps top hats. After all, their eyes stare at you — one pair from the fox on the bar and the other from the fox high up in a picture box on the wall. A club is a very different matter — bright lights, hot bodies grinding against each other, cute underage boys shoving ecstasy tablets up their bums in the bathroom. Sounds a little more palatable than Bud Light and buffalo wings, doesn't it? Bars are for something else:





Too often, happy hour means watery macro-brews and insipid appetizers.

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Instead of memorizing some trendy shot every week, Julie spends hour after patient hour explaining the difference between a stout and a lambic, and she knows which pint glass or snifter to pour them in. An armful of ice cold Polish brews nestled in her glistening bosom. Just recently, we spied Ann Coulter standing outside of what was presumably her house, watching as a cute young valet from a nearby country club parked a car. Anyway, you've just spent plenty of money. Facebook Twitter email Not all DJs feel compelled to overwhelm their audience. But others, the more enlightened smokers, prefer to toke outdoors.

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They have old school tastes in hip-hop, which they mix with funk and soul. Too often, happy hour means watery macro-brews and insipid appetizers. But hardly anyone sits at the actual bar anyhow. With distinct dance rooms, there's always multiple vibes being set by the DJs, and the club tends to draw sexy girls of all ethnicities — and hot guys, too. We know, ladies, you're not gay; you just have a girl-crush on Julie. Then there's Anglesea — which looks like a funky little fishing shack and boasts a relaxed vibe to match.