Sankey's "soap"
Sankey’s Soap, in Ancoats, Manchester. Great club, in the main, great music, ecclectic crowd...

A very chilled but slighly chemically twitchy evening was unfolding, and I was glad to be in the club after the fuckwit-neanderthal-gautlet which was the way in. About half way through the night I was wandering upstairs trying to gather up the folks for a dance downstairs – DJ Shadow’s set was hotting up – when I spied a good looking but jaded girl flashing her breasts. As I was on a pill, the clumsy drunken seduction was pretty much lost on me, and many others I must say, but most of the men were nonetheless transfixed. Curiosity got the better of me and I leaned against a nearby speaker to see what would develop. You could tell by the atmosphere in the place – booze soaked heat – that something was going to happen here. Sure enough, within seconds it seemed, a bloke had risen to the bait and they were at each other’s mouths kissing vigorously. After a minute of this, as if it had been planned in advance, the woman lifted up her skimpy skirt and the willing bloke stuck it in her – right on the dance floor! I tried not to look shocked, or even move my head too quickly in any direction, as these small gestures are the ones that can earn you a beating amongst folks that fùck on dance floors. To my shame, I think I even played along with the scumbags around me, miming their jealousy. What really got me about the scene was the look in their eyes – here they were having intercourse in public and what did their eyes say? Nothing. Like the blank, twitchy stare of a wildebeest rutting away. Not human. I always think back to that when I meet the occaional hard-core clubber who goes on about clubbing being the new religion, or the potential saviour of society...
(impossibly witty twat No, YOUR Mum etc etc, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 9:51, 1 reply)

ecclectic crowd
I hate ecclectics.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 16:28, closed)