Thursday, 22 October 2015

Paris Paris Paris

I miss Paris so much. It feels like I never lived there at all!

Tuesday, 20 October 2015

WHP my hurr back and forth

I went to Warehouse Project (WHP) a couple of weeks ago with Kayt and Laura. The last place I raved with either of them was Paris - in March with Kayt for her birthday, and I can't even remember the last time I was on a ravey night out with Laura. Maybe the time we went to Showcase with Olivia and got crushed on the way to the loos. (What a horrible horrible club.)


Everyone always assumes I've been to WHP because I'm from Manchester - it's a bit embarrassing that I've never been. Kind of like if someone lived in Paris for three years and never went to the Louvre... Ahem.

(Well, not exactly like that. I imagine you don't get Manchester students with their bum cheeks out doing poppers in front of the Mona Lisa.)

For the second time - ANYWAY.

I think WHP would have been a very different event in its heyday. Although, as it's always been put on from September to New Year's Eve, perhaps it's always been full of students? Not that there is anything wrong with students. But even when I was at uni I didn't like going to nights targeted at uni students.

The weird thing is that WHP insist everyone gets in the entry queue by 10.30pm latest, so you can't show up after all the idiots have had enough and taken themselves home.

It was absolutely packed when we got inside. People were constantly moving through the crowd in long snakes of hand-holding friends, and they were not polite when they needed to get past. Girls (in a uniform of denim hotpants and bumbags) were elbowing, kicking and shoulder-barging us to get past. At one point I thought a man was trying to climb on my back and I started bending towards the floor. Turns out a very tall man was just wading through the crowd and I was just a fat blade of grass he thought he could squash under his massive feet.

We kept walking between the two rooms, trying to find a spot to dance in, but it seemed as though everywhere was just getting busier and busier. Then, whilst queueing up for the portaloos, we witnessed a nasty fight between a boyfriend and girlfriend. They were arguing heatedly and then they just went for each other. Bouncers pulled them apart and chased after the girl, who ran away into the crowd.

It was not a very relaxing atmosphere.

It was so bad that Kayt decided to go home after about an hour, because she wasn't feeling it. Me and Laura decided the only option was to stay and lose our minds.

Later on the crowd thinned out and it was hard to believe we were in the same venue. We had so much room to dance. The music was brilliant - Hannah Wants was headlining but I hadn't heard of ANY of the other DJs - I am so out of touch. In Paris I used to discover new music all the time, and now I mostly listen to Tina Turner and that song that goes EVERY FREAKIN DAY, EVERY FREAKIN NIIIIIGHT.

Anyway. (Can I say that a third time?)

I loved the music. By the end of the night, there was only a small number of people left and we were all dancing like people who should have gone home two hours ago. One man loved the music so much he marched over to us and said to Laura "I'm trying to enjoy the music and all I can hear is YOUR VOICE", because we were chatting as we were dancing.

He was clearly lying, as I could barely hear Laura above the music. Either that or he had just tuned in to her Glasgow accent and was MADLY JEALOUS.

When it ended at about 6am, we didn't want to go home so we asked the promotors where would still be open. They told us to go to a club called VOID on Canal Street. It took us a while to find it, and when we got there they turned some people away, saying it was 'regulars only'.

After walking down a long stairway, down into the VOID, we saw why they didn't want to let too many non-regulars in. There was a man running round in nothing but a willy pouch. Everyone needs a place where they can run around in a willy pouch without fear of judgement from non-regulars.

He even came into the outside smoking area for a bit. Laura asked him if we could buy a cigarette and he said "Where would I keep it darling?"

Where indeed?

We said we wouldn't smoke, but at 7am in the morning we decided we needed to and tried to buy cigarettes of people (note: we wanted to buy not steal). Someone made us a rollie and because I am such a super cool badass smoker I accidentally INHALED the filter and had to thump my chest to make it shoot out again into my hand.

We made friends with a big group of lesbians and hung around with them for a bit, until they ditched us when we went to get a drink. We thought they'd left the club, but then we saw them standing in a different part of the dance floor. They were not our friends at all. Our only other friend was a strange man who kept pinching my bum and trying to drink our pints, so we decided it was time to call it a night.

And that was that!

The light is so dim in this room, my eyes are killing me. I might go and make some lentils for my tea. It is literally lentils for breakfast lunch and tea until I get paid next week.

Happy lentils everybody!!

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

The PM Puts His Sausage in a Dead Pig and Other Stories

I think little and often should be my new blogging motto - words tumbling round driving me mad in my head,

sometimes falling into focus on my tube journey home,

falling fast into sentences as I walk through Canary Wharf in the rain,

then I walk through the door and the idea of sitting at my laptop,

after spending the day sitting at a laptop,

knowing that tomorrow brings another day of sitting at a laptop,

doesn't appeal.

I need to blog so for a quick fix I will bash out some thoughts on recent events. Like a big bumper special of the news, broadcast to all the teeny tiny people nestling in my head. Not headlice, just the little audience I imagine when I write. I used to imagine actual regular readers but alas I fear the heady heights of (BLANK)* page views a day are far behind me...



If you're reading this and you don't know what I'm talking about - good. I thought everyone in the world knew about the PM's alleged pork-bothering past and I am delighted to have found someone who will listen to my story in amazement.

Basically someone who knows David Cameron has written a biography of the chap, and in it he says that the Prime Minister placed his willy into the mouth of a dead pig as part of an initiation ceremony for a posh drinking society at Oxford.

The real story is that nobody is really surprised, because David Cameron has the face of a man who sneaks his snake into dead pigs' heads. We always knew what he looked like, but nobody could put it into words until Lord Ashcroft gave them to the world.

Image from

When asked 'Are you surprised to hear that David Cameron put his flacid grey wormy willy** in a dead pig's mouth for a laugh?' most people respond 'Not really no'.

It's really not that weird. What did you think the Prime Minister was doing aged 21? Dishing out soup for the homeless? Reading to underprivileged children in a run-down community centre?

Don't be ridiculous, he was slipping his mottled purple penis** into animal corpses and then getting WANKERED with the LADS LADS LADS.

But we all know posh people are disgusting - see this film on The Aristocrats joke.

Actually, maybe it's more of a university thing than a posh thing - when I talked to my friend about this, who isn't particularly 'posh', she told me at uni her brother had to stick a lubed carrot up his bum when he joined the rugby club.


Every yang needs a yin. Mr Corbyn has basically said that he doesn't like nuclear weapons and that he wants to tax big corporations instead of individuals.... Big businesses and nuclear holocaust enthusiasts have not responded well...

Need to tidy my room now, peace and love.

*I was going to write the actual number for LOLZ but then I realised some people might not realise it is a small readership for a blog, and you might think I was trying to number-drop to impress you and that is not LOLZ at all.
**I have no idea what his willy looks like I am just using my HORRIFYING imagination.