Ever feel like you want to go to a museum where you learn stuff, are surrounded by interesting things, but at the same time need to exit as quickly as possible?

May I present – The Museum of Death: a museum that inspires dinner conversation that no asked for.

The museum is filled with collectible items like: John Wayne Gacy’s clown shoes, his drawings of clowns and some fan letters describing admiration for a man who used to murder young boys. It also has replicas of things like, “Heaven’s Gate bunk beds” where cult members lulled themselves into permanent sleep.

As with any museum, this one is divided into sections: serial killers, old-time autopsy methods, “extremely” gruesome crime scene photos, cults, suicide and then as though they needed something relatable and redeemable, a big section of drunk driving deaths.

It’s the type of museum you remember going to, if only to remember, “why did I go to that?” And, it’s the type of museum you go to so that you can tell people (while eating) that Jeffrey Dahmer did unspeakable things to what he considered to be food.

It’s the type of museum that could only exist in Los Angeles.