The weekend came, the weekend left.
I got plastered of my face, much is the same.
My sober mind mocks and jeers at my drunken self.
I wake up and feel the shame, knowing that I’ve played the same game again.
The pointless mess of getting fucked and spent.
Pure moments of bliss to dissolve reality and it’s stress.
Why does it always come to this?
The moment of the hangover is the time of clear thought.
God if you’re there, please give me the strength.
To start over fresh, and leave this cycle of sex, drink, sin and death.
But the weekend is coming! The weekend is here!
No time to think, just time to live.
Live for the moment, so lets get fucked!
And start once again this addictive cycle of hell.
God help us all.
Please pass this message on to the appropriate characteristics in your bar.
“Of course I don’t have any chewing gum”
I actually do you degenerate, but I know you’re too fucking stupid to realize that I’m going to lie to your face to get in.
So there’s no point asking me in case you didn’t notice.
Ask me about guns or drugs or something maybe next time I might actually tell you.
Why have you got so much attitude for?
You’re not that buff.
You come to Rococo because you know there’s a thousand men who are going to move to you and so that you can tell them to fuck off and carry on doing your hip moving bullshit.
Men are coming up to you because they think you are a slag because you dress like one. They don’t know that you’re out just for the attention like I do.
They’d move to an elephant in Rococo. What kind of a kick do you get from such low class attention?
Don’t give attitude when you get the attention that you came out for, or otherwise wear some clothes.
In summary, stop being an attention seeking whore.
Sorry, Bruv, for stepping on your shoe and distracting you away from your male gang bang.
I was pushed by another male gang bang.
My sincere apologies though. I didn’t mean to disrespect you and I genuinely hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.
I understand that you have no job, no future and no Gcse’s because you’re too stupid, and that you have loads of excuses for being such a fucking waste of a human being. So you want to feel that at least some one in this world shows you respect when they accidentally abuse your precious River Island shoes.
But on the plus side, these Rococo attention whores actually seem to like your style. You won’t get none but they’ll let you buy them a rose and take a picture with them.
You might find your wifey in there. They seem about as stupid as you. I’m sure you must have some really interesting conversations together in the smoking area.
I would also like to apologize that you will have difficultly reading this message and so my good friend Diary Of A Badman has kindly agreed to relay this message to you in terminology that you understand.
Apologies once again, and I hope you and the attention whore live happily ever after in Rococo heaven.
Watch out for this one. I guarantee you’ll be hearing it in the clubs very soon.
Take it from me, the toilet attendant.
No idea why she’s banging on bout a rocket launcher though.
Produced by Donae’o, a mad tune, it’s MZ Bratt-Rocket Launcher
Photo Via JD Hancock
From working in the toilets of a club, I have found that most boys, lads, or groups of men universally follow the following process in their epic night out.
8:00 – 10:00 pm
Scenario: Drinks at the house.
Primary Aim: Convince each other that the probabilities of bringing a woman home tonight are extremely high, based on highly acclaimed evidence such as Jersey Shore.
1) Drink as much as possible in the shortest amount of time to provide enough confidence to approach women.
2) Congratulate each other on being one of the lads.
3) Discuss the last woman they had sexual intercourse with.
11:00 pm-12:00 am
Scenario: Enter club. At the bar.
Aim: Purchase alcohol to allow the opportunity to speak to each other at a bar whilst avoiding appearing homosexual and to achieve the following verbal conversation and agreeement.
Lad A: “She’s fit.”
Lad B: “She’s fitter.”
Lad A: “We’ll definitely find them when we are a bit more drunk“
Lad B: “I can’t wait.”
12:00 – 1:30 am
Aim: Prepare for chatting up women
Before the effects of alcohol wears off, desperateness sets it. Having drunk, pissed, danced with each other and spent the majority of their weeks salary, it is now time to achieve the purpose of the night: to take a woman home.
Any female will do, because at this point, success is the only option.
“Hey, what’s your name”.
“Can I buy you a drink “
My feet hurt from wearing heels all night.
I want to go home.
My best friend is throwing up in the toilets and I can’t leave her because she’s my best friend. Friends forever.
F””” off. You’re too late. What time do you call this.
After one rejection, the man ego has diminished. It is now time to retire and congratulate each other on how an evening can be so enjoyable without women.
End of Night
At The Club…
I stand perched on the bar,my eyes fixated on a group of targets.
A sweet seductress bird flies by.
Elegantly dressed and with a charming smile, she glides past, feeling the stares of the passers by.
I stand focused, willing her to look my way, to give me that one moment.
For the moment I have her eye, she’s practically mine.
I sweep close, touch my hand on her waist, take the scent of her neck and walk past her.
She glares, confused at her loss. She knows from my eye and she wonders why.
I have her where I want her, I smell her desire and it is only a matter of time before she forsakes all of her power.
Let those who are sheep be there to do the chasing.
I am the player and my heart is raging.
Ready to take my strike, my body is poised, awaiting the moment I can claim my one prize.
The second eye is coming, oh so close!
Let there be sight! I’m there, almost!
She looks down at the floor, eyes slowly unveil, glancing up at me, they whisper:
“Take Me, Master”.
Via Mardi Gras 2011
You are going for a night out with your mates.
You notice a female dressed in a short skirt and a bra. Something about this unique dress sense stands out about her which intrigues the attention of your penis.
Shaking in your boots with fear and excitement and armed with a vodka and coke in your hand, you tread a path towards your desire.
“Hi there, my name is…”
Before you finish your sentence, an army of beast like women swarm your lady of affection, give you the finger, and whisk her away, never to be seen again.
The beasts are her friends and they are your enemy. This well know phenomenon is described as: “the circle.”
What is the “circle?”
The “circle” is a group of ladies/best friends in a club who arrive, dance and leave together without acknowledging the existence of other humans. For further information on the psychology of the “circle”, please visit the 6 different types of female clubbers.
How can I break the circle and chirpse the girl I fancy?
There is only one moment when you can break the circle and “chirpse” the lady you fancy.
Firstly, we must note the different stages of “the circles” night out:
Stage 1: The dance floor
Whilst dancing, the circle face only each other, wade their hips from side to side and avoid eye contact with any other human being.
There are three rules all members of the circle must adhere to:
1) Any one who attempts to chat up a woman during this mystical cult dance will immediately be shut down by the person to the right and left of the woman.
2) The women within the circle who has had the most men attempting to chat her up wins the circle dance floor contest.
3) Any acknowledgement by any circle member of any male presence during this dance will immediately be noticed by other members who will, at the end of the night, enter a gossip tribunal by which the lady in question risks being described as a whore.
It is impossible to chat up a member of the circle on the dance floor. Many have tried. All have failed.
Probability of a successful chirpse: 0%.
2. The trip to the toilet.
As one circle member requires to urinate, all members of the circle must break the dance floor cult, hold hands and form a strong line in order to march the cold, long journey to the bathroom. Here, the circle feel at their most vulnerable: having to directly notice other people within the club can be daunting. They hold on tight for dear life, for if their fingers were to part, they risk having to be in a club…alone.
Probability of a successful chirpse: 0%.
3. The bar
The bar is a unique opportunity. As one member of the group stands to buy the drinks, the rest of the circle create a perimeter, facing outwards from the bar. Due to the crowded bar, it is impossible to create a perimeter that completely excludes other humans.
Careful watching and planning will allow you to make your timely run to the bar, enabling you to be inside the perimeter area before it is formed. The rest of the circle will be distracted; this is your chance to “chirpse”- the success of which then depends on your charm, wit and money.
Successful chances of “chirpsing” (with acceptable charm, wit and money): 10%
Want to know more?
Clubbing is a multi-million pound business. Having spent many years clubbing, I decided to set these experiences to good use, and began to research the psychology of clubbing. I quickly noticed that there were specific types of clubbers which were regularly present within the clubbing scene.
After having written about the 6 types of male clubbers in a previous post, it is now time to find out what the 6 different types of female clubbers are.
So here it is. Enjoy!
1. The Gold Digger
I am an interesting specimen. I am a female “player”. Men play the clubbing game for pulls- it’s disgusting! I play it for drinks. You men are so stupid! If I give you a tiny bit of attention i.e. brush your hand with my hand, you genuinally think I want you to whip me off my feet and put your penis in my mouth, because of the damsel in distress that I am.
Bro, she touched my hand. Trust, she’s on it
No! I want your drinks bitch! I want YO MONEY. And just like you “players,” I’m not doing anything wrong. I stand there, YOU approach me. YOU flirt with me. YOU ask me if I want a drink. I just receive, and then get out, by either excusing myself, or showing you who my real man is, or by saying bye. Your big ass ego won’t let you get upset at me about your failed investment. After all, you made the decision to gamble your money. And, by the way, I am not an escort. You thought I was an escort, and you paid me. I just took your money and stood your desperate self up.
2. The Circle
Hi, I’m a member of the “the circle.” If you would like to know who is a member of this circle, you can check my facebook pictures, which will show thousands of pictures of me doing the same side-view pouting pose with the same 4 girls in different clubs. We also may have a few men within our circle, who we have sufficiently nutured, and are primarily there to protect us and get us our drinks.
As we enter the club, we quickly become aware that there are other people present, who may try to break our closely-knit circle. So we immediately assume the “mounting” position. This is a defense tactic, where by all 8 of us stand facing each other in a circle in the middle of the dance-floor and wade our hips from side to side slowly to the music like anchored mermaids, “mount” our asses out, and pretend that no-one else exists.
Whilst in the “mounting” position, we have an appointed “blocker”. This woman is usually slightly larger and more scary-looking than the rest of us. As men attempt to speak to me, our circle is immediately threatened. Hereby, we immediately assume the “attack strategy” whereby the ladies on either side of the man turn away, I provide a dirty look, and “the blocker” rushes in to fight off the unexpecting man.
Video: The “blocker” at work
“The blocker” also has the role of keeping count of who achieved the most mounting attempts by men, who will subsequently be awarded with the prize of being the most mountable. It is imperative, however, not to break the circle and speak to any-one else, as this would insult the very core of the untouchable circle, and may result in you being banished to exile, and labelled as the bicycle that rode away.
Guys, outside of a club, I’m actually a really nice girl, and would love to speak to you. Secretly, I do actually understand the association between wearing nothing and attracting attention. But whilst in my circle, I have to consider the feelings of those of us who don’t get mounted, and that’s the reason why i don’t speak to you, and come across as being part of an insane cult.
3. The Plastic
So lads, if you’re reading this, and you see me out there, look, stare and drool. But don’t speak to me, unless you’re going to treat me like crap.
4. The Double Team
We are the double team. We come in a pair, rather than a group, as this allows us to appear more approachable. The team consists of myself and a close friend of mine. Our relationship works well due to our ability to fight off each others insecurities. For example, my friend is what was elequantly described in Jersey Shore as: “the grenade”.
Urban dictionary Definition.
|The solitary ugly girl always found with a group of hotties. If the grenade doesn’t get any action, then neither does anyone else.“Come on man, take one for the team and jump the grenade”|
I am more attractive than my friend. So when she goes out with me, guys will speak to her. She wins. Guys speak to me more than they speak to her, so I win. Due to the physical appearance of my companion, I also feel less vein, and less like a self-obsessed plastic. It’s a real win-win. The double team works so well and that’s why there’s so many pairs of ladies out there in the clubs.
So lads, if you are interested in me, make sure you have a friend who will look after my friend, because we come in a pair. Fat girls have feelings too.
5. The Drama Queen.
People call me the drama- queen, and I know why. It’s because my primary objective in life is to destroy every-one else’s night by making them spend the entire night looking after me after I’ve had half a glass of wine. If any-one doesn’t spend the evening devoting their full attention on my safety, they will experience the wrath of my verbal bulls***, which I will apologise for in the morning. But before I apologize, I’ll cry. Oh how i enjoy crying. Every-one rushes quickly to my comfort when I cry. And then they take me home, leave me some water and tuck me into bed. Sometimes they forget to leave my night-light on so I have to get back out of bed and put it on, but they’ll learn with time. I will then repeat this process repeatedly until I find out who my real friends are, which is no-one.
6. The Man Friend.
Im the man friend, and my life is a Shakespeare play. My main friends are a group of guys. I don’t really have any girl friends because they don’t get me the way guys do. My main role within this group of guys is to look after their relationship interests and provide them with advice on dress, girls and manners.
I also have a dedicated slut-o-meter. This allows me to accurately identify girls in a club which are not suitable for my male friends. The dedicated satellite for my slut-o-meter is so powerful that it has identified that 99.999% of girls are not suitable for my male friends. Therefore, I am the only girl suitable for my male friends. I am currently in a secret relationship with all of them.
Lads, I hope this provides some insight into the types of girls available in clubs.
Now that i have discussed all types of clubbers, it is time to evaluate the process of clubbing itself. I will be discussing this soon!
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p.s. What type of clubber are you?! Take an anonymous vote, and when enough people vote, I’ll release the percentage results on MamaJi’s facebook page!