Thursday, 14 October 2010

Milkshake @ Ministry of Sound

Practically everyone has heard of Ministry of Sound and its legacy as a nightclub and record label. We decided to head down to their student night known as Milkshake to see what the 'hype' was about.

As we approached the club, located in one of the dingy-est boroughs of London, we couldn't help but predict a viciously crap night. After trawling through streets rife with scag-rats, the raw stench of piss and suspect characters on every corner we finally arrived.

Before we headed out to tha' club, we did have some reservations (as would any sane minded person attending a student club night). Thus, we weren't shocked when we were greeted by swarms of foul students dressed up in stupid outfits. Take Pee-Wee Herman, on coke, post paedophile charges and you have an accurate characterization of the clientele.

We finally made it to the que which took around an hour, of which most was spent going through security checks. We needn't not rant about that as it's pretty self-explanatory (baring in mind the location). Although the fact that women only wait for one tenth of the time that men do is quite frankly sexist, next, black people will be waiting two hours and Arabs will have to have background checks before they're granted entry.

When we entered the club, we looked around and got a couple of watered down beverages (at least it wasn't Australian piss-water) and headed straight back out the door. Or, we thought. As we headed out some fat Asian guido exclaimed his intentions to 'clap' us. What this faggot meant by 'clap' is beyond us, what was funny though, was his groveling apology just seconds after he'd hit his Coke high.

All in all, our prior predictions of the night were met. Which means, fuck all, yep, geddon!

Friday, 1 October 2010

Proud Galleries

So, it's the first club based post from us in a while, and we can assure you, this is a scathing one. Last night we decided we would check out the infamous Proud Galleries in Camden Town, London.

Proud is one of the most notable clubs in North London and has a long history of famous names from Nirvana to Bob Dylan, leading us to believe this could be actually be a decent event.

However, much to our disappointment, the club is a rotten cesspit composing of hipster shithouses and post-ironic thrift store whores trying to be cool. Don't get us wrong, the venue itself wouldn't be bad if you don't mind sitting in converted stables or dull art exhibits while getting 'crunk'.

There's honestly way too much to criticise about this cancerous club. If you enjoy pretending that you're having fun listening to horrible remixes of classic songs and drinking over-priced Australian piss drink (Fosters) at £4 a fucking pop, then go right ahead.

Otherwise, hit the west end. yep, geddon!