An outdoor performing arts venue next door to Woodall Rodgers Freeway? It's a tough sell, but it works. Watch a jazz tribute band while the sunset lights the skyline or a new alternative rock band with your toes in the grass, reclining in a lawn chair you probably haven't used since watching a T-ball game. If you can't see a show, the space is also open to the public while private events aren't happening, and the ambiance is just as great.

Burned out? Or just art thirsty? There's no better way to unplug, drift away and recharge your creative batteries than DAMN. Started in 2015 by musician Cody McPhail, DAMN's performances set experimental sounds to abstracted visuals with mind-expanding results. Offering local artists sculpting kaleidoscopic visuals on panoramic screens, each entry is a journey through innerspace that's like communing with the numinous. Having brought heavy-hitters such as New Age legend Laraaji and composer Steve Hauschildt of Emeralds fame to our city, DAMN provides an immersive musical experience like nothing else in Dallas.

Showcasing the types of gorey, grungy cinema that went straight to grindhouse theaters in the '80s and direct to VHS in the '90s, Texas Theatre's TNT series is a blast. These free screenings happen on the first Tuesday of each month and frequently include local horror-themed vendors and boozy after-parties in the Texas Theatre's lounge. If you like violent slashers, creature features, cheap special FX or just lo-fi, unintentionally funny flix, TNT is up your alley and then some. Sit back, melt into your seat and let the refreshing trash wash over you.

OK, we admit that it took us far too long to realize that Shaquille "Shaq" O'Neal, NBA titan-turned-actor extraordinaire, lives in Carrollton. But boy are we glad. The inimitable celeb is now bringing his love for bass-heavy music to North Texas audiences via his much-buzzed-about namesake music festival. This September, Shaq's Bass All-Stars boasted top-tier acts such as Alison Wonderland, DJ Diesel (Shaq's music persona), Kai Wachi, Sullivan King and Crankdat. Next time you see Shaq, be sure to tell him that we're grateful he's bringing such baller bass gods to Texas.

Texas Cannabis Collective is a Facebook group run by and for people looking to know the latest on everything cannabis in the state. Whether you're seeking some funny 4/20 memes, the latest on Texas cannabis news or just looking to connect with other cannabis enthusiasts like yourself, you'll want to join the Texas Cannabis Collective Facebook group. The group is mainly a social place for anyone following the nonprofit Texas Cannabis Collective. Started by local activist Daryoush Zamhariri, the nonprofit strives to advance cannabis laws across the Lone Star State. So, if you have a funny cannabis-related meme to share or have genuine questions about the legal landscape in Texas, join the Texas Cannabis Collective group on Facebook.

In a sea of podcasts that focus on musicians, this one has found a fresh and unique angle. It simply asks them about the strangest gig they've ever played. Host Chris J. Norwood is a seasoned musician and founding member of the band Texicana who has just started a new project, Chris J. Norwood & The Knockdown Dragout. Norwood has presented a range of DFW's favorite musicians, including Salim Nourallah, Chris Holt and Matt Hillyer, to name a few. The edits are slick and the specific nature of the topic often sparks previously untold stories from the artists. Norwood is a great host, presenting a relaxed conversational style that puts guests at ease and makes for an listen every time.

Kids are active, vibrant, imagination machines who run around trying to live out their most fantastical dreams, even if that means just pretending that they have an imaginary friend or believing they can fly. Don't believe us? Sit a young person down, give them a pad and a piece of paper and tell them to draw whatever they want. So what happens when you give a bunch of imaginative teenagers a whole room to use as their canvas? The creative learning center SPARK! did exactly that for a pop-up exhibition called Prismatic, and the results were fantastic. A group of four high school students was tasked with designing one of six rooms in which they would immerse their guests, using only a single color as their theme. They produced rooms that could draw emotions from pure happiness in the bright and cheery "Sunjoy" room to sheer dread in the "CitySlime" room. One group created a monstrous, friendly creature decorated in furry orange and another used its red room to make guests feel invaded by prying eyes poking out of pixelated walls. SPARK! took a chance on them in a way that paid off big.

The word "clubbing" has gotten a bad rap. Maybe because it evokes soulless, machine-made, repetitive beats fit for a torture chamber, or maybe it's the memory of velvet-roped-off snobbery and overpriced and disappointing nights. But clubs can also be catalysts for counterculture. Think Studio 54, Lizard Lounge, Starck Club. Double D's is not quite like any of those, but it was truly needed in Dallas. The name and slogan ("This is not a tittie bar") should tip you off. The Design District bar doesn't take itself so seriously; it's glamorous but unpretentious, the crowd is ageless, the service friendly and the cocktails exciting. This is the place to tell your intrusive, self-aware thoughts to shut up and dance.

Social media serves many functions, and influencers' jobs largely consist of being better than you in every way. Connor Hubbard, known online as @Hubs.Life, wants to normalize ... normalcy. The Dallas native films himself doing the most mundane 9–5 yuppie crap ever: getting dressed, making a smoothie, going to work. It's like the start of a great film, except nothing eventful will disrupt the flat plot line, and there's a real beauty to finding value in our comfortable monotony and coming to love the expected.

There are Latin clubs where you can dance salsa, and then there's Club Vivo, a dark, warehouse-ish, large box that's more of a meeting spot for South Americans. Whether it's a World Cup game or a Los Auténticos Decadentes concert, Vivo provides a safe space to let your flags fly. You can count on finding empanadas for sale on Argentine cumbia night — when you can bust out soccer chants like you have Messi-specific Tourette's. The drinks are overpriced like they're denominated in pesos, not dollars, but the club upstairs knows the real Latin songs we want to hear, so we're drunk enough on nostalgia.