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Sunday, April 29, 2007

Sunday Girls and The Saturday night mushroom tennis club.

Sooo, I got in at 5:30 this morning and I'm back up at 11:00 coz I have a business meet tomorrow morning at 9:30 and I figure that if I gave myself not a lot of sleep last night, there's a chance I'll be so knackered early doors tonight that I may just be in with a chance of spinning my time clock on it's head enough to not totally sleep through my alarm at 8:00 tomorrow morning.

If you know what I mean.

I do!

Honest!

I feel like I'm fukin jet lagged though??

The last couple of Saturdays I've been filling in for a mate of mine doing tech ( looking after the sound system, lights etc.) at his indie club night in the West End. Couldn't do it full time though.

Although the music is OK, a kinda cross between dance/indie, the punters are all tossers.

They're all a bunch of Russell Brand/Peaches Geldof/Jarvis Cocker/Towers of London lookalike moody rejects.

I've engineered the Towers of London a couple of times by the way and yes, they are completely shit (all the gear, no fukin idea!!)

These kids ( from the club) get soo pissed and lairy and think there all hard, it's just stupid, stop it??

Plus they all dance like their elbows are glued to their fukin hips?

Looks like a bunch of retarded robots if you ask me.

So yeah, I set up the system and lights and then hid most of the night reading a selection of newspapers in the back office, watching the clock hands move like somebody had pressed the "Your gonna be here till the end of time son!" button.

Not good.

There was a fight in the club at about 1:30 this morning between six indie kid punters and, to be honest, it was a pathetic attempt. Bunch of fukin girls if you ask me? Gave the doorman something to laugh about for the rest of the evening though.

Bry ( the head doorman ) was like "Naaa that wasn't a fight mate, it was a fucking tickle-off.. between fucking tickle fairies"

Ha!!

Just after 2pm me and the head barman J plus a couple of the staff decided to have a game of mushroom tennis along the bar ( it's exactly as it says, one tennis racket, one long bar, one bag of large juicy mushrooms, mushroom tennis, what can you do! ) The punters ( and staff ) loved it as mushrooms were bowled and hit and caught and exploded all over the back bar (it all has to be cleaned up at the end of the night anyway so what the fuck! ) The indie kids where like " Weeee wanna join in, can we..pleeease?" To which the standard reply was: " Got any mushrooms? No! We'll fuck off then!!"

So yeah, boring night really.

Tis Sunday now.

I think I need to find a new girlfriend. You know, a Sunday girl. Someone who I can take for Sunday dinner and then get pissed with and go to the cinema and have a snog with or something like that.

Yep I need a Sunday girl.

Right, where's that little black book of mine?

Oh bollocks, I donno!

Anyway..

Laters

3 Comments:

Blogger Nobody Girl said...

I vote for you to go out with Little Mistress again. She can be your Sunday Girl. Your posts when you were with her were always happy!

12:38 pm  
Blogger Jo said...

Fucking indie kids...skin tight jeans and pointy shoes should be left to the ladies. Sometimes I wonder where they put their balls, evidently from your post they don't have any. I've always wondered if that lead singer from the Towers of London is a actual twat in real life or if he saves it just for telly...

1:27 pm  
Blogger london cokehead said...

No, he really is a twat.

Little Mistress, I saved her from me if you want the truth.

10:54 pm  

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