A gem video rental store in South Pasadena.

If you love karaoke like I do, there's a ton of spots to check out in LA, but none quite as charming (or David Lynch-y) as Melody Lounge. Be forewarned, this spot is intermittently open. You'll know they're ready for business if they plant a sandwich board outside offering cold sandwiches and cheap beer. Hopefully, you'll get a chance to meet the owner Willie, whose (possibly embellished) life stories rival Hemingway. As for the song selection, the campy MIDI versions and painfully less than accurate lyric translations can suddenly turn your favorite tunes into high-wire acts (i.e. "Leaving On A Jet Plane" magically transforms into "Libyan on A Jet Plane"). Hell, they even have a song called "Schindler's List" on the menu! Even if you don't sing, Willie or his wife will gleefully take the stage. Special tip: for a true Chinatown boner, request Willie sing Enrique Iglesias' "Bailamos."

Aussie cappuccinos, iced vovo shakes, fairy bread... this is so bloody Australian and so bloody gewd.

The Smell is a non-profit, all-ages music venue who's run the gamut of completely rad and completely shitty acts, but is doubtlessly an interesting and worthy place to use up a pair of earplugs. After all, it's not everyday you see a dude shred his fucking face apart playing an amplified shard of glass! The Smell is a little difficult to find, but when you hit the dark alley in which it resides -- and which every fiber of your being tells you will be host to your mugging -- just clutch your purse, keep your chin up and head straight down until you run into a grip of hipsters in a haze of smoke, donning asymmetrical haircuts, and one-too-many animal prints, and you're there! It's alcohol-free, so make sure you either drink before you arrive, or head out between acts to one of a couple local bars to sauce up!

Authentic Korean BBQ in Koreatown. Delicious meats and big variety of mushrooms, interestingly good fried rice, metal chopsticks, and a buzzer you can press to alert the waiter.