To the friend who invited me to :: SUPERDRY PARTY Ft. DJ ANTONIN (PARIS) BY Skyy Vodka ::

You know who you are. This is your warning letter.

A few minutes ago a friend of mine invited me to a party. Fair enough, what’s unusual about that you might ask? Well nothing except the event picture was a picture of a girls crotch and the name of the party was :: SUPERDRY PARTY Ft. DJ ANTONIN (PARIS) BY Skyy Vodka :: .

Now let’s start at the beginning. Why would a party advertise itself with an actual picture of someone’s crotch? Sex sells yes, but I thought that was supposed to be in a kind of subtle sexy way. No, apparently it means crotch in ones face sells. I don’t know about you but I really don’t need to see an actual sexual organ to pick up the sexual undertones.

Perhaps people today aren’t as perceptive as they used to be, say back in 2004 when a mere ‘nip slip’ by a leather clad Janet Jackson (or was it Michael, I can never tell the difference), brought the world to a standstill. What Janet Jackson has nipples? She’s using them to sell music? Hulk Hogan used his nipples to sell wrestling and no one ever complained!

Crotch aside, I thought to myself: “let me just click on the crotch, maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.” Sadly it was bad. Oh I couldn’t have prepared myself for the horror that was to ensue. Just like a scary movie, when you are shouting and pleading with the sexy mysterious protagonist not to walk into the dark room, a part of my brain was doing just the same. But of course I ignored the ‘don’t go into the room’ feeling and did it.

Shock and disgust, the name of the event had two colons before the actual start of the name. What does that even mean?  Now as far as I know a colon is supposed to inform the reader that what follows the mark proves, explains, or lists elements of what preceded the mark (at least according to Wikipedia). But I mean really now, what does that mean and what’s more what does a double colon mean, is it meant to be ironic? Or was the person who wrote it overdosing on keratin (I’m not sure if that’s even possible) and had a tremor? Could it be simply for decorative purposes? But how would a colon be decorative?

Finally the party’s name is Superdry. Apologies for being unable to write that all in caps lock, it’s against my beliefs of not being a total douche bag. Now what is a ‘superdry’ party, does this mean there will be cover in case of bad weather, or that there will be no running water? Or perhaps a guarantee that there will be no rain, “come to our party not only will it be dry but it will be super dry”. Or perhaps it is a comment on the type of humour that you have to have to enter the party, in that case I will take my pants of and my crotch and I will waltz right on in there.

Next time I get a whiff of a crotch coming from your direction you are dead, at least Facebook dead to me.

Advertisements

Greenside stops sucking…a little less

I don’t like Gin, what I do like is going to Gin…well at least now I do.

I think those of us who have been going to Greenside since…well let’s just say a very long time, can agree that it has turned into somewhat of a trap for boets and highly strung girls parading around on the sidewalk wearing unreasonably high shoes and cocktail dresses.

Now first things first why would you attempt to walk around the incredibly uneven pavement in 6inch heals? It’s more bizarre than someone joining the KONY2012 cause. I have actually made it into a sport watching these young girls (because no woman would make that mistake), and betting on how far they can walk before slipping or tripping up on a jagged piece of concrete.

They generally travel in packs of three or more and then attempt to look relaxed as they sit at Mamma’s Shebeen looking more out of place than Julius Malema at an ANC meeting, with splinters from the worn out furniture up their ass, which further attributes to the ‘I literally have a stick up my ass look’, that is more noticeable than their YDE bought cocktail dress that is exactly the same as their BFFs’ who is trailing behind trying to mask a twisted ankle and a scraped knee dealt out by the ever vengeful pothole just before Bob Rocks. Yes you know the one I’m talking about.

Even Bob Rocks has turned from an Indie ‘hidey hole’…into just a hole. I went there for a drink last week where I was assaulted by a teenager wearing the thickest chain I have ever seen, accompanied by the entire earth’s supply of gel in his hair, which I have to admit, is pretty impressive.

Where hipsters once lined the walls skulking about their really bad choice to go through with getting that bowl shaped haircut, were now exact replicas of those awful Bratz dolls in what I presume were there ‘Disco Feva’ outfits. Needless to say it sucked listening to The Black Eyed Peas while being judged for my flat shoes and disheveled hair.

Defeated I joined my friends at Gin, expecting the usual dub-step crazed crowd guarding the bar making it harder to get to than Mordor on a bad day. What was usually a struggle which included grasping onto the hands of my friends screaming share the load and having to fight a pissed off Nazgûl just to reach the toilet turned into a pleasant 14 second walk, where I got my drink after a minute or two of waiting and what’s more service with a smile!

Still a little sceptical and trying to guide my friend who had been present for the half price cocktails a few hours earlier and had drunken more than her fair share my ears were graced with the sound of The Pixies and then RHCP and then about an hour of straight up rock and flipping roll. What’s more is that every Tue night they are hosting an Indie night and in their words “The Good Old Days are Back Again”…it sure seems like it.

See all the details for the event here: The Good Old Days are Back Again.

You whoever you might be…you need a raise!

Let do it!

 

So it’s no secret that I’m not the biggest fan of what I term ‘commercial’ music… let the ‘you’re a hipster’ comments roll in! I am always keen on some electro or dup step…pretty much that doesn’t include that drunk woman from Barbados some like to call Rihanna, or anything that the cast of Jersey Shore would listen to, mostly from sheer fear of turning orange and losing my ability to string a coherent sentence together.

Those of you that have had the pleasure of enjoying my company on a night out can attest to this as I usually protest to songs by swearing as loudly as possible at them or sending bottles hurtling towards their head especially when anything by Katy Perry comes on and on occasion I’ve been known to stand still and repeat “This place is so hectic,” over and over again much to the dismay of my friends passed out on the couch next to me.

Nothing in the world annoys me more than the sound of the swishswish  a jocks matching Adidas tracksuit makes as he attempts to impress ‘chicks’ with his two stepping ( something that he has spent years in front of a mirror protein shake in hand perfecting). All the while the ‘chicks’ gyrate and jiggle their bodies in ways that even the performers at Cirque du Soleil would be impressed by while randomly making shouting out ‘let’s go girrrlz’ or the window shattering ‘ooowaooo’…perhaps a mating call I have yet to learn.

But I digress! So it’s clear I’m not the biggest fan of commercial (code for crap) music. Because of my open hatred for really bad music I generally bury myself in anything ska/punk/rockindie etc that I can get my hands on…and NO Prime Circle and the flipping Parlatones do not count as rock, or music for that matter and should join the likes of New Kids On The Block that mislead younger generations into thinking the noise they make is music. A trial similar to Nuremburg should be held for such ear offenders!

Slowly but surely I have been opened up to the awesomeness of electro through some rather late nights at Truth and forced participation on a number of holidays. My mind was blown however when I watched the official Tomorrowland after movie last year and revisited it again this year. Holy smokes it looks like the best time ever, let’s call it an Oppikoppi on ecstasy! Whoever made that video needs one big high five and one big raise.

Let the saving commence! It’s going to be a wicked three days, and who knows maybe a few ‘oooowaooos’ will slip out…at Tomorrow land anything looks possible.

What the video here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7CdTAiaLes ! Be prepared to lose your face…and dignity.