19 January 2010



Well, no drape hanging tonight, hurrah, no sweaty armpits before the dancing even starts, as the Jump Boys were bringing their own drapes. Allegedly that is. Once Louie and I realised it was 8.45 and still no sign of them, we decided we better put his very capable hands to use and stick some up pronto before the punters started coming (just as well really because they turned up way after people started entering the club). However, not letting a small matter like none of the DJs turning up worry us (Oz excitedly said he'd play all night if necessary), we merely got down to the serious stuff, like ripping the piss remorselessly out of each other and sinking some serious piss at the same time (well Steve and Martyn did anyway). Lumpy had a brain wave and managed to re-arrange the speaker stack, and it did make a vast improvement, and then the peeps started drifting in, just as Tim O sauntered through the door. Louie, by this time was already reaching nirvana, strutting his stuff as only he knows how on the dancefloor. The room was warming up nicely, with the arrival of those mad bastards from Dover and Folkestone who shall remain nameless, but let's just say that Aaron gave Louie a run for his Money on the floor, whilst Toby magnificently avoided the teeny-boppers that were standing 3 rows deep at the front of the floor. At 10ish the Jump boyos were spotted, and we relaxed even more than we already had been relaxing. The Whitstable posse were out in force tonight, which set the show nicely on the road to mayhem and debauched lunacy. In fact everyone was out in force. Spotted; Katee and Mikee making a grand rear entrance, hurrah, he's fanny, Cath for the first time in ages (you know what it's like when you get a new lover), Sue fresh from the vigours of driving a Roller around the previously quiet Kent country bends, Walt and Mrs Bates his new beau, Michael having a few hours off, Steve the artist for the first time in ages, and Pete the other artist, Anna in a floozy dress, Pammy Poos and Jonjily, and lots of bug eyed, red faced, sweaty handed individuals that we are lucky enough to have had the pleasure of sharing a nights entertainment with.The music was spot on, unlike the last proffering, although spot of the night must go to Sonar (who has now changed his name to Jes) who with his consummate mixing skills and topp tunes had everyone going for it quite severely. Grub was seen to have a little strop later when there was a minor disagreement over money, but nothing could detract from such a good night. After it was off to a certain house in Chavsham because a certain person was away, and you know what they say about whilst the cat's away, well, it's true. What went on here is really too debauched to put in these pages, but it was very alcohol inspired, if that's an excuse, and involved, for some, the using of a lot of energy. Cath taught us a few lip movements as we all watched her, through the door whilst giggling uncontrollably, Steve and S had a long, meaningful talk, I farted in Louies face, blowing his moustache off and stopping his snoring at the same time, Bungalow got jealous and hung over, Walter pretended to be crashed out so he could hear us slagging him off and trying to undo his fly, and Sandals danced all night. I missed work the next day, and in a gin sodden haze decided I should be honest about why I was away, so was, and then regretted it. Luckily we went home before the real debauchery took place 12 hours and 6 gallons of malt whisky later...