De -frost
Happy first weekend of spring!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGghkjpNCQ8
p.s I know its awfully early, but even at risk of appearing super keen like Myer insisting on decking themsleves out with Christmas decorations in October… Where will you be this NYE?
Never have you ever?
You know what people are fantastically good at?
Remembering things you wish they would forget.
Nobody remembers when you ask them for a favour, or when you do a favour for them, or that time you shouted the taxi and they said they would “defs get the next one. Don’t look at me like that I always pay you pack, in the long run anyway.”
Oh, but whenever someone new (especially when they are cute), is introduced to your group they always remember the time you got super drunk/hooked up with ________________(insert embarrassing acquaintance)/fell over/vomited etc etc… They might even bring out photos if they’re the sentimental type.
But you know, the thing about friends is that they have diplomatic immunity in these situations because they are the ones present, at the said time of embarrassment, dealing with you and still being your friend at the end of it even if you did commit social suicide/resign your dignity/flash a boob.
That’s because they know you and know that underneath the drunken stupor you’ve decided to sport that weekend you are a genuine, good person with functioning morals and standards.
You know what else people are really good at?
Assuming.
Like you would see some girl, on a train, passed out, perhaps vomming from time to time, manically apologizing and repeating a street address over and over, and you would naturally assume that she is probably taking time off from her busy week of being a trashy ditz to do this every weekend and due to this would make an awesome candidate for “World’s Strictest Parents” because her horrific conduct would make for some compelling TV. And although they may not vocalize it 90% of the other commuters are tsk tsking in their heads thinking compassionate and pitiful thoughts about her mother.
Have you ever heard the saying “every serial killer lives next door to someone,”? Well, same goes in this situation, “every drunk bitch/dick lives next door to someone.” Essentially, the objective individual you see making a shambles of themselves could be someone’s good friend. Like the same good friend you have who is actually a major book nerd and is a volunteer and has great ambitions about becoming a vet and is never disrespectful of their parents.
But most people only see the unfortunate mess that is the consequence of vodka and motion sickness.
So, the moral of the story is “don’t judge the people you see, doing things you think you would never be caught dead doing.” Because they could actually be good people and when you find yourself struggling to stay conscious to defend your drunken honor, you would want the right to a fair trial. Would you not?
My love don’t cost a thing
So we know that J-LO isn’t just trawling through clubs looking for guys to buy her drinks, but how universal is this declaration? Is it possible to be a smooth operator and succeed in picking up chicks without having to oil the rig?
Ask anyone and they will tell you the sure fire way sang yourself a lady at a nightclub is by taking her to the bar and buying her a drink. Whether it’s your way of resuscitating the endangered art of chivalry or just an attempt to increase your chances of one night stand felicity, “can I buy you a drink?” is really everything you could ask for in a pick up line. Short, sweet, suave and in worst case scenarios can be substituted by a recognizable hand gesture, it is even relatively impossible to screw up.
But how original is it? Sure, if it aint broken don’t fix it, but do you really think the everyday and the mundane is going to secure you merit and reciprocated feelings from your dream girl (aka get you laid) time and time again…?
Try mixing it up and standing out (in a non-seedy way) from the crowd of guys rubbing up against that group of girls, trying to get her attention even though she just keeps on pretending like she cant see them.
Wave to get her attention. Social norms do still exist between the hours of 9pm – 4am on Friday and Saturday nights, even if you haven’t seen them in sober action. Approach her in the smokers area/balcony/place where it is possible to hear one another. I’ve seen guys who lay the groundwork on the d-floor and then write their number on girls hands.
The possibilities are endless.
Though overwhelming, the moral of the story is: an alcoholic beverage, while effective in some instances, is not always the way to a girls heart/goodies. Take the scenic route.
be aggressive. b. e. aggressive.
Perseverance.
A quality you might reserve for triathlons or higher education, not clubbing.
But one that is nonetheless vital in order to keep up with the intense party expectations necessary these days.
Because now people expect that because you are being educated for 12 hours a week you must be having overwhelming withdrawals from hardcore partying and thus feel compelled to go out every night from Thursday – Saturday. Sometimes Wednesday, maybe Sunday too.
And so they should. Everybody knows is allll downhill after 21 so like it up before you find yourself, 22, on the couch, stalking your facebook profile on a Saturday night, reminiscing about the days you were 21 and could tackle hangover and a 9am start.
God forbid.
Furthermore, there is only like, 2 months until schoolies. What do you think? That one day you’ll flip a switch and just be able to party harder than you ever will for a whole week? No. You work for that.
I wanna see some dedication to the cause…
Alas, it is a great feat to make it out, night after night, week after week continuously and still manage to be conscious the next day without taking some shortcuts and playing it smart.
Timing is everything.
Stop and take some time to smell the flowers and ponder the ways of the world between drinks. There’s no use (or fun) in going hard for 15 minutes and then finding you are not able to go anywhere. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.
Beware of energy drinks.
In theory, an excellent ay of boosting your energy and sustaining your partying power. In theory… not so much. Yeah you’ll be buzzing for like, 2 hours and then after that your going to crash. Epically.
Don’t think you can outsmart the energy drink by just having more and more, your only worsening and prolonging the inevitable. Plus, because of all the caffeine they have in them, energy drinks give you a KILLA hangover, like, dude, kill-ahhh.
(Energy drink (mixer) + alcohol) = (caffeine x 2) = you not getting out of bed. Period.
Eat.
Seems like common sense advice but is so often ignored. Remember how in primary school science they told you that food was like petrol for your body and you needed to fuel it with healthy foods to give you energy and keep you moving. Yeah that still applies when your drunk.
Weird right?
Make a party playlist to get you in the moood!
You would be surprised how listening to certain songs can totally change your attitude around. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.
Disco nap.
A party staple. Much like a nanna/cat nap, disco naps involve you having a little sleep, perhaps after lunch, to restore your energy for the night ahead. Equivalent to super Mario eating mushrooms.
Go fourth and prosper!
How can such a smooth operator find himself in such predicaments? …
ELLESQUIRE I WANNA GIVE YOU MY NUMBER
“Was that as good for you as it was for me?”
Birthdays are awesome.
Except the times when its not actually yours, but the birthday of a close friend.
Those birthdays usually suck.
And not because you are jealous of all the presents and attention and facebook posts your beloved friend will receive. No, the suckiness of friends’ birthdays is derived from the friend clause that requires you to be especially nice to this individual for the whole day. Withstanding any annoying/selfish/show-off/inconsiderate behaviour the birthday boy/girl may choose engage in.
Although this is universal law that has been respected practice among besties throughout time, the role of happy and supportive birthday friend has been exploited in some instances. Thus, in the interest of fairness and friendship preservation here are some guidelines that can be adopted by those conscripted to stand up for battle on the birthday front line to ensure their friend is able to indulge in their annual opportunity to act like a tyrant without potentially destroying a lifelong bond over “which shoes look better?” or, “what to name the facebook event?”
Because even though it’s your birthday and you can cry if you want to, you aren’t allowed to disregard the basic human rights of others.
Particularly your BFFL.
BESTIES
DO’S
– DO remember that is this THEIR day and you should endeavour to make them feel special for those 24 hours. The only time you are allowed to show any sign of the contempt you may feel for them during this period is when you are alone in the toilet. Take solace in the fact that you can use this patience against them on your own birthday.
– DO go to a special effort to get them a thoughtful present and write a meaningful card. You are allowed to use this selfless gesture to flaunt to friends and family what a truly awesome friend you are.
– DO take care of any disputes between other friends or planning hiccups. Don’t let them stress. They will take it out on you. You will pay.
– DO try and have fun and forget your obligations if all is going well. You’re a good friend. You deserve a pat on the back.
DON’T’S
– DON’T upstage them. Even if you did just buy a new dress that makes you look like a Victoria’s secret model, it needs to stay home. Make sure they look their absolute best, else subject yourself to endless hours of pity convincing and compliments.
– DON’T feel obliged to shout every round if you can’t afford it. Expect your wallet to make a cameo at some stage, but theres no need to break the bank at the bar.
– DON’T complain about which club you go to. Even if you hate it. Even if you’ve heard it’s a drug hole. Even if it’s a gay club and you’re a heterosexual. Some subtle convincing is acceptable, but don’t throw a tantrum.
– DON’T get so drunk you pass out and need to be taken home. Birthday kids shotgun that one.
– DON’T let them boss you around like a PA. They don’t employ you; it’s a labour of love. But not slave labour.
– DON’T feel compelled to confess any deep seeded, disturbing, immoral betrayals of friendship/secrets you have known about/taken part in. True, there is no ‘good’ time, but this really is the worst time.
– DON’T make out with their siblings at any point during their birthday. Or if you do, don’t get caught.
– DON’T forget you are actually friends. And that under this stressed-out, probably very drunk and excited exterior is your confidant and brutha from anotha mutha. And although it may be hard to distinguish at this stage, you are friends for a reason <3
Rocking the suburbs
Clubbing in the ‘burbs. I cant put my finger on what it is about clubs situated in locations outside the city and/or trendy outskirts of the CBD, but there is an alarming element of danger/distaste/distrust associated with actually going to these places. Perhaps it is due to the fact that when people get stabbed, assaulted or murdered at these places generally THE VICTIM AND/OR PERPERTRATOR IS SOMEONE YOU KNOW!?!?!!!!
I know they say every dog has its day, but suburban clubs just kind of skip the revered, venerated 15 minuets of fame most celebrities enjoy before taking their mandatory fall from grace and skip straight into the no-panties-getting-out-of-a-cab-plastered, pre rehab stage. You take their posters down from your bedroom wall and dissuade the younger generations from “following their disgraceful example” but you still keep and eye out for them in the tabloids. On the odd occasion you may even watch their movies, but by no means would you ‘promote’ your support or preference of that individual. Even though they are famous.
It’s just not socially, kosher.
Just like your not going to be the first to admit you are actually hanging out to go down to your local and get abominably wasted, “for the sake of it,” even if others are doing it, on the DL no doubt, because its frowned upon, (don’t think you’ve pulled the wool over anyone’s eyes! What other reason would you be going there?).
I think it is fair to say the whole concept of suburban nightclubs is wrong. Even considering their very appealing qualities, (for instance them often being situated in a convenient proximity to your home, thus enabling you to scab a lift, spend next to nothing on a cab fare or, in desperate times stumble all the way home, the really cheap drinks and entry ect ect), it’s no legit club.
No matter how hard you try.
No really.
Epitomising the metaphor “mutton dressed up as lamb” is the existence of the suburban nightclub. It’s a pub with the bar stools stacked up on the side so people don’t fall over and hurt themselves that eventually becomes a makeshift d-floor. Who are they trying to fool?
Not the locals apparently. Resident’s reviews of outer suburb clubs (found on http://www.maxmoose.com.au/review/rsa1422.htm) don’t really seem to scream enthusiasm,
“Don’t know why you’d go to 1422 anyway. Aside from being racist against all races, its the only place where the cost of entry is your dignity – Claire, Berwick.”
If you’re still not convinced…
“Went down to check out 1422 last night to see what it was about and well I walked up to the door and couldn’t bring myself to go in the place was dead and the music I heard wasn’t very appealing. I definitely wouldn’t recommend anyone go to this place – good time party boy, Berwick.”
You heard it from the good time party boy himself.
However, it is unfair to pick on these clubs because, granted, it is near impossible for some individuals to make the trek to the inner CBD every weekend to frequent a venue to host their Saturday nights.
So, in the spirit of non-discrimination and all that stuff you would never catch Blair Waldorf dead doing…There is a new club opening up in Narre warren (Melbourne). With its very own tattoo parlour.
I guess it will be easy for the census people. Now they can identify the locals by their new tramp stamps…
RIP semester one holidays
You never really know what you’ve got till its gone, do you?
Oh the last day of holidays is upon us, and we find ourselves yet again faced with another delightful semester of education and being graded.
Cyber 5!
Because of this great desperation I am going to make a confession. Just like everyone else I wanna be a real life DJ and drop out of uni and go travel and be internationally hip on my deckzz and eventually host my own radio show not unlike Nina Las Vegas’ “house party” on triple J.
So I bequeath thee a playlist of the best club songs these holidays as a parting gift and a little something to take the back-to-school edge off.
Cry (Just a little) – Bingo Players
Changed The Way You Kissed Me – Example
From The Music – The Potbelleez
We Run The Night – Tonite Only
An open letter…
To all women bouncers/door bitches/ ladies affiliated with the running of nightclubs,
Hi!
You may not know me because I am but one of the many patrons that attend your specific venue on any given night, I have nothing too distinct about me and we have never really had a memorable conversation, however I feel it is important for you to know that I do in fact remember you quite well! Actually, you could say the encounters we have had together have left me somewhat scarred.
Before I continue please, I mean no disrespect and in no way am I attempting to hate on you as your professional presence is integral to the efficient running of business, and what I’m about to say should not be taken personally…
My heart sinks a little every time I see that you are managing the door that evening. You are often very stern and in a very bad mood by the time it is my turn to get my I.D checked and you are often sceptical of my identity even though it really is me. Pinky swear!
I do need to remember that each time we meet I am usually not my rational, considerate and tolerant self and you have a job to do, but I can’t help feeling very intimidated by you and automatically get the vibe that you aren’t very happy to see me even though we have never met and I mean no harm. It seems as if you are disappointed to see me and need to discipline me in some way.
Perhaps it is not so much you, but the fact that I am accustomed to the treatment I receive from male bouncers. It’s not your fault that you already have your own set of boobs so when I, (or any other female with a slightly visible bust), come to a club you don’t automatically feel compelled to let a big group of us through to the VIP line. Or find our drunken banter slightly charming because we don’t notice you checking us out and discount our entry even though it is after 10:30. Or turn a blind eye to our underage friend because she is hot and is wearing a risqué outfit.
No, you didn’t choose to be born a heterosexual with a vagina and therefore exclude yourself from enjoying these female attributes as much as male bouncers do. I can empathise with you, I really can.
So what I am trying to suggest is maybe we both try to be more open and accepting of the other, and maybe it will make both our nights more enjoyable. Perhaps, if you just us gals a chance and not automatically assume we are drunken, blood sucking, gold digging, home wrecking, immature sluts, we would not automatically assume you are a cold hearted, old, bitter, sexually frustrated cow we could maybe all get along?
Because, well, after all, sisters are doin’ it for themselves and us girls should stick together!
If not, that’s cool. No hard feelings. Please just forget my name and let me slip quietly into the club because I don’t want to cause any trouble.
Thanks for the chat!
Regards,
Your friend,
Melissa xoxo
Sunglasses At Night.
Beer goggles.
Aw yeah cool concept.
I have actually had the pleasure of wearing legit beer goggles, as in protective eye gear that impair your vision and subsequently your ability to walk, run, throw, catch etc as an attempt by my year 10 health teacher to warn of the effects of binge drinking and demonstrate how terrible it really is to be drunk. (A for effort, Teach.)
“Beer goggles” describes the state of mind of an intoxicated individual who is suffering from severely impaired judgement and/or perception, usually in reference to members of the opposite sex.
‘In other words “she’s a 2 @ 10 and a 10 @ 2”,’ – urbandictionary.com
Most people our age are familiar and experienced with the effects of figurative “beer goggles” and the profound aftermath of embarrassing and confusing consequences that so often ensue.
Like when your beer goggles somehow lead you into the arms of that sexy, brooding, irresistible World of Warcraft nerd you’ve had your eye on all year in history.
…?
Or the same way they revealed the truth about your best mates younger hot sister. How you could see the strength of your friendship and you knew that when your mate warned you that you wouldn’t be able to walk if you ever went near her he was really saying, “go for it bud! She’s not out of your league.”
…?
Similarly, like our vision our other senses are also affected in amusing and varying ways. When we are mixing our own vodka and lemonade ‘beer taste buds’ eventually mask the taste of alcohol and lead us to believe that a half/half ratio is an acceptable drink-mixing rule. We experience the affects of ‘beer-muffs’ in instances when we sincerely believe serenading everyone is so much better than actually speaking to them. Our appetite becomes targeted to greasy take-away food. Shoes don’t really seem like a good idea anymore. There is no real concept of time, space or obligation. When a random guy finds you in the street and causally mentions he is a sexual predator and has never believed in monogamy but sees the appeal you can just take it as causally small talk.
…?
As far from reason and normalcy these examples may seem and as foreign from your usual social conduct you believe them to be, we’ve all been there. Actually we’ve been to town there.
Ah, lets face it, you practically have a holiday house there and on the odd occasion you are the mayor of there.
So beware the “beer goggles” because they not only blind you, but make a complete mockery of all your other senses too.
Beer goggles 1
Humans 0
