You know what’s really hard? Being in attendance at a party where you don’t know half the people and the others are mostly ones you vaguely know and dislike.
What happens when you transplant the ultimate bogan party into a city bar? Go on, guess.
Call me cynical, but I find it extremely hard to humour wasted people who think they’re being deep and meaningful, or females in too-high heels and too-short skirts (IQs usually diminish in relation to how high the hemline is). Oh, and I’m sure I saw a nipple or two flailing about last night. Seriously girls, put it AWAY.
Also, I obviously need to learn to dance to drum n bass. You may laugh, but it requires a totally different style from the usual poppy/hiphoppy club fare.
Lastly, I never in my entire life thought I would see a crowd of people dancing – yes, dancing – to Limp Bizkit’s Rollin‘.