Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Your Mum's House @ Punk.

After being barraged with over 9,000 Facebook messages to attend another shit club night in London, we decided it would only be right to see how the event would turn out. The event is titled "I GOT F**KED AT YOUR MUM'S HOUSE", the promoter not only had a reckless disregard for the 'Caps Lock' key, but also seems to be a gutless coward with regards to offensive language. Perhaps the bold letters and tasteless meaning are a marketing ploy to entice more fuckwits than your average club. We were soon to find out.

A Soho shop.

Thursday night is a great night. All the sick fuckers that enjoy playing One More Night  tend to kick start on a Thursday, unless they're badasses, in which case they start on Monday. The venue, despite the name is ironically located in Soho, this must be because Soho was the epicentre of the Punk movement in the 1980s? No. Soho is home of flour dealers, faggots and strip clubs, mainly faggot-strip clubs. Thus, we weren't expecting an authentic atmosphere, understandably.

We arrived around 11pm to a reasonably empty que, no problem there. The price was £5, that was also reasonable, no problem there. However, as soon as we got in we had a major fucking problem. It was as if we'd sailed up straight up shits-creek and lost the paddle as we hit the rocky remains of a bag of nuts. The inherent lack of gender definition baffled us. Furthermore, the naked T-Girl grinding against the bouncers, further escalated the levels of our distress and confusion. Is that shit even legal? We wanted to pop bottles in tha' club, not be molested by the horny mob in some trisexual shit-hive. Some of the thespians in this tragic comedy were so base that even Vice picked up on it. However, If you're looking for a brothel, this is most definitely the place to go.

Excuse us? Courtesy of Vice.

The event definitely wasn't our idea of fun. So we decided the only way to get through it would be to buy some drinks. But wait! What? £4 for a bottle of beer? Are you fucking mad? They had a stinking vintage store selling clothes for £5 at the front door (probably to cover the licensing of sexual activities) but a bottle of beer cost £1 less than a faux-leather jacket? What the fuck kind of sense does that make? Fuck all. Mind you, people should be getting paid to wear the shit they were selling, leopard print trousers? Pill-box hats? Really? Fuck off.

Oh, and the DJ. What the fuck. That's all that need be said. But, don't take it personally, we don't doubt your musical taste would go down a treat in G.A.Y.

Don't take this article the wrong way, we here at Yep, Geddon! are not homophobic, we just strive to find the rawest nights possible (within certain moral limits), and if that includes venturing to seedy shit-holes, we'll fucking do it. And bitch about it after.

yep, geddon!