12th May, 2012: Ton Of Dynamite!

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Please, make yourself comfortable – get a cup of tea or something. I’d like you to get yourself in the ‘zone’; the same zone I bathed luxuriously in last night, and in fact still am, although it’s a wee bit fuzzy at the moment. Now, listen to the track below, courtesy of Adam Topping, all the way through before you read on as I want you in the right mood to hear all about my funk-fuelled patronage to the Ton Of Dynamite room at the Gloucester Allnighter. I actually listened to this on permanent repeat for my entire homeward journey. Awesome!

Ready? Then let me begin…

[victormeldrew] I don’t belieeeeve it! [/victormeldrew] I only went and forgot my blasted camera! I blame my hurried disposition having gotten home from work at around 7.30pm, finding my car battery dead and having to be jumped by my neighbour, to be out on the road for 8.30pm. Like the ‘honorary bloke’ I am I made no fuss, flicked a flannel about my person and applied some mascara, and was indeed heading up the motorways en-route to my soul porn.

I know, I know! I wasn’t going out in the month of May at all but I was cajoled, coerced and willingly bullied into attending, with the added bonus of being Adam Toppings guest. I didn’t require too much convincing, especially with the likes of David Abbott, Dr. Pickles (Chris Stanley), Johnny Beggs, Adam Topping, Big Danny, Gospel Bob and Des Parker all digging deep into their ‘Top Drawers’ for our listening pleasure.

For me there was a perfectly balanced mix of familiar, unheard, lesser played and eclectic spins; the majority with a tempo fit for an aerobic workout. The room started off banging, filled with dancing people. As the night wore on and the morning crept in, the crowd became thinner. A shame but we all know what we like and what we don’t like which is fair enough, and I certainly liked.

To be honest, I was truly ON ONE!

With the current Moon phase of Waning Gibbous, I wasn’t as ‘on one” on the dance floor as I usually am. Damn that tidal pull on my internal water table, upsetting my delicate hormonal equilibrium. However, with Peggy Babcock (Tez) in the house I was guaranteed several earful’s of educated, poetic, vitriolic, cutting and comedic whinging. You never let me down Tez

I went a bit bonkers to this one, courtesy of David Abbott…

Dave also gave the following track an airing and in my usual, pathetically irritating, non-existent record information memory, I tried to tell him it was the record at the top, Memory of a Dream. I even argued the toss defiantly but of course I was incorrect and Dave just rolled his eyes and scratched his designer stubble in a manner that screamed ‘shut up you bint’… so I did. One should really learn to only discuss things one knows about and I clearly and openly know nothing

Chris gave my current favourite a blast; can’t get enough of it to be honest – pant creaming!

I have worn my voice right out; it’s just a piteous croaky whisper. I certainly voiced enough crap to fill a Ging Gang Goolie Cub Scouts weekend camping cesspit I can tell you. I’m not going to apologise though because that would indicate I am regretful which I’m not. BUT HEY, it’s still Saturday – BONUS! I’ve today and tomorrow to recuperate. That’s the great thing about a Friday allnighter; you still benefit from a full weekend.

Me & Birthday Girl Nicci

The numbers appeared to be down across both rooms in direct comparison to the last event. Even downstairs which is usually full of twirling classics fans found the last hour very thin on the ground.

And it goes without saying that all the DJ’s delivered in that Ton Of Dynamite Room, including a couple of lovely Latin numbers by Mr Beggs that I hadn’t heard before (no surprise there!). Danny had brought his intrepid travelling support entourage with him, the Attic Lads Kev & Paul. I really wanted them to go the full-monty and launch into a synchronised acrobatic Cheerleader routine but it was not to be.

Great to chew the fat with my Girlfriends Ingrid and Jen together with a whole menagerie of other like-minded nighter-nutters. With the exception the infamous ‘Bilious Brian’ who suffered an acute recurrence of a chronic knob-head condition. Cast your mind back to 2009; a mere 3 years ago but seems much longer.

Back then Brian caused trouble picking on women (click and laugh at the comments) and last night, like history repeating, he did it again. He was staggering about outside whilst we were all chatting, laughing and smoking so I jokingly asked ‘are you a bit drunk Brian?”. We had, until this point, enjoyed a 3 year ceasefire, an amicable acquaintanceship, following his apology after the hoohaa in 2009. I had no reason to think that he would be offended.

My words indignantly kindled instant fury within his ‘Deep Limbic System’, yet again, turning him immediately, and without warning, into a crazed idiotic arsehole. He then aggressively threatened to ‘lay me out’

Not to be deterred or intimidated I stood my ground, ready to fend off any attempted drunken blow should there have been one, where instead a short exchange of insults occurred. He intimated that I don’t ‘go anywhere’ soul wise where as I just kept it simple, in light of his inebriation, calling him a cunt as I did before in 2009. He removed himself – deja vu – and went home. Small mercies

And I wasn’t the only female to suffer his inappropriate and uninvited aggression last night either as he had also picked on another woman earlier in the evening; what a twat. I think he might benefit from an exorcism or at the very least, a frontal lobe lobotomy with a rusty spoon tied to a chair

So, with that short-lived excitement concluded we all mulled it over trying to work out just what had happened. It was uninteresting and unimportant so we did the next best thing and re-entered the venue for more fun, frolics and fine music.

The lovely Bridget drenched me in tidal waves of her glittery loved-up ambience throughout the night – romance is alive!

The night closed with Des Parker and Dave Abbott double-decking whilst simultaneously staging a Darts Competition. Sean Haydon forced me to parade in front of the stage with a rudimentary placard that indicated to Mr Abbott a certain song choice, a request.

I think by this point Dave was tiring of my incessant immaturity and drivel but it did bring a smile to my face and a wonderful dance to the inimitable Waymond Hall’s What Will Tomorrow Bring.

Sean, you’re looking rather svelte; everyone’s losing weight, looking good and feeling great \o/

Post-nighter coffee’s were consumed over conversations that belie the number of hours we had all been without sleep or sustenance, at the local MacDonalds. Gospel ‘Breakdance’ Bob performed an impromptu dance routine in the car park, for our entertainment. Like a lemming I followed his lead, laying on my back, legs aloft and slightly akimbo, requesting that someone propel me around in a spinney fashion. Not a position I had properly thought through judging from the ‘adult’ comments that followed. It was mildly erotic for me though… Jesus, I really do need to get laid don’t I; before I spontaneously combust in a fiery ball of frustration-fanned flames with no-one to burn but myself

On the Sunday it’s reported that ?Vicky Green was called out at 10.30am, armed with a pair of tweezers, to extract a peppering of gravel from between Bob’s shoulders. That’ll learn him! (It’s not true, I made this up)

Kwik-Fit were opening as we stood gassing (not that sort of gas) out in the open; I found myself describing an impromptu day-dream about dirty overall covered grease monkeys giving me the once over on the ramps and a personal service. There’s something very sexy about a man in dirty overalls looking commanding and masculine. However, these porno thoughts more than likely arise from a distinct lack of sleep and no food whatsoever since I consumed a small packet of cashew nuts on Friday morning.

Conversational topics covered an array of unusual subjects; nipple sizes, political irritations, hair lengths, fast cars and weekend affected cock sizes. There’s a ‘fly on the wall’ book begging to be written!

I knew it was time to beg my leave when I started reciting different statements only to trail off without finishing any of them, thinking ‘what the fuck are you going on about now?’

Completely fucked am I; and glad of it… floating aimlessly in a colourful and surreal parallel universe with just me in it. Shards of broken memories are slowly being pieced together but the corners of my jigsaw evade placement and I cannot complete the puzzle.

Thank you everyone, for putting up with me… talking to me… hugging me… snogging me… insulting me… laughing with me and of course, laughing at me.

22nd April, 2012: Back At The Batcave

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Six blokes and little old me piled in Sean’s van for our mission to find the best music in the North; Burnley bound, we set off on our merry and somewhat hilarious way. In fact, the 6th bloke, the unashamedly gorgeous Matty Hill joined us in Manchester. He was guesting tonight and I was quietly excited to hear what he was going to play. At only 27 we were all old enough to be his parents

I can’t remember why but I used the word ‘guffing’ and oddly none of the Midland’s boys had ever heard of the word. I thought everyone knew what a guff was!

I supervised (watched) the boys unpack the equipment and struggle up the stairs with speakers as big as they were. I did carry one bag so I wasn’t completely useless

Sean & Matty played some warm-up records so I took the opportunity to limber up, getting my swag on. An interesting funked up version of the snake blared out (from Sean)… I couldn’t find a YouTube clip but it’s featured in this great mix.

This got a spin too quite late into the night…. what a cracker!

In the blink of an eye the place started filling up and the music swirled around the room, and my head, like a billowing blouse. It wasn’t long before I was wind-milling around the dance floor in gay abandon. Like an out of control Catherine Wheel losing it’s fizz toward the latter part of the night where I popped and crackled like a right twat. FANTASTIC!

All the jocks were exciting, fresh and unique. Sean, Matty Hill, Fred Krol, John Weston, Cliff Camfield, Stuart Bennett, Danny Price, Scotty and Dr Pickles. As much as I applaud them all for their top-drawer delivery, the Gold Star Award definitely goes to Chris, AKA Dr Pickles. What a set and what a way to end the night! 100mph, flat out tunage, that caused sweat to roll down my cheeks as I willed myself to keep up with the relentless tempo. My life would be pointless without music and the spins across the whole night were storming perfection. A mention has to go out for Scotty too who kept the dance floor busy with his up-tempo selection.

I got a little bit tipsy which isn’t like me as I normally drive. This made me skip around the room taking lots of photographs of myself with just about everyone, flirting and milling amongst the crowd. There were no complaints – not to me directly anyway

Another couple of records on the night…

Sian (Rugby Soul Club) took advantage of my liberal and slightly inebriated state and sexed me up on the dance floor although she’s telling an altogether different version of events. Dirty girl!

By the end I was thoroughly placated and fantastically wankered. Soulism enveloped my entire being. I sat on the step outside like a vagrant; my mind vacant, my eyes glazed and my feet ablaze. For the first time in ages I was totally shattered. So much so I laid my head on Dave Shaw’s shoulder and slumbered all the way back to the Midlands. I hope I didn’t drool

So, thank you Sean for your hospitality and for taking me, top man! And thank you Dave, Wagsy, Gazza, Dusty and Matty for your wonderful company. I’ve not laughed so much since the last time I laughed so much

Lastly, congratulations to Ian (Simsy) and Kylee on their marriage yesterday. You both looked lovely

Click the image to start the click-through gallery.

The Burnley Boys

Burnley 21 April 2012

Seans bum

Mattys bum

Burnley 21 April 2012

The short & tall

Burnley 21 April 2012

Hussie

Burnley 21 April 2012

WTF?

15th April, 2012: Rambunctious Rugby

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In a Ground Hog Day experience I found myself travelling Northward, alone again. Clear roads saw me reach Rugby by 8.15pm, half an hour earlier than I’d anticipated. However, driving fast comes at a cost; it doesn’t half use a lot of petrol!

I used just shy of a full tank. Each nighter I attend ends up costing me around £100 the majority of which is fucking fuel! Still, better than sitting on my sofa, void of friends and frolics, flicking random channels on the TV

Musically it was a bit up and down but there were some excellent stand-out records peppered throughout the night. Maria and Carl were Guesting and their sets were very reminiscent of Middleton which brought back fond memories.

I caught some of Lou Woods set in the Freestyle Room; floaty Summery tracks that I found very pretty. Her mic wasn’t working though, so I made her a loud-hailer out of a piece of paper. There’s no end to my skills and abilities I’ll tell ya

And of course, it goes without saying that Maria looked as fabulous as ever. This lady just doesn’t age and dresses with chic sophistication which is quite enviable.

The best music of the night for me (bar Eddie) was a smashing funktastic CD gifted from the immaculate collection of Adam Topping. Just look at the stupendous effort he made too… it’s got ME on it. I’m well chuffed

Anyway Adam…. WOW, this time you’ve surpassed my fussy expectation which found me playing it so loud in the car for the journey home my ears were ringing.

I could not stop playing this particular track! Over and over; it’s just SO DAMN FINE! Crank it up

And I’m sorry but I’m not allowed to share the CD, on strict orders, so I wont.

Edide Hubbard’s 5am spot was funking magic. Got two plays of the record below, one at the start and one at the finish; with records this good they deserve multiple plays so punters get a chance to remember it. I skidded about like a loon on both occasions. You’re good company Eddie, and we had a giggle didn’t we

I spent equal allotments of time in the main room and the record bar. Heaps of comedy and childishness… which is pretty normal! Especially Loulou who played around with my camera when I wasn’t looking and took millions of photos of herself

Too many people to mention all names but lovely to make the acquaintance of ‘mellytee’ and surprising that our bladders were so meticulously synchronised all night long from our very first pee to the very last! It was like we were Twins! You were great company and I hope our paths cross again. Also good to see the lubbly Irish Tinker, Kev. Hope your journey back to the Emerald Isle is without moment.

Funny memory No. 237 – Trickster was talking to someone and I was in their near-immediate vicinity. I have no idea what their conversation was about but he turned to me and said “Karen, what’s your honest opinion of me” I looked at him for a moment trying to take in that he’d actually asked ‘me’ to be honest… me! haha. I drew breath and uttered these cutting, immortal, words “well, you’re a bit of a twat sometimes”. I did balance the blunt delivery with a succeeding fluffy line about his heart being in the right place

So, another mad night comprising, in no particular order, dancing, snogging, hugging, mithering, gossiping, laughing, joking, dissin’, bitching and breast touching (Lou!).

Sincere thanks to Sian for letting us all go back to hers for a cool-off, cup of tea and a good dash of ‘soulogorrhoea’ – that’s my newest Urban Dictionary submission that, transcribed, means the talking of utter nonsensical bollocks and shite, the morning after the night before. In short, an en-mass sufferance of soulful verbal diarrhoea

Surreal and unimaginable conversations bounded around the rooms at varying degrees of volume and annoyingly my sex life was openly discussed, or lack of it. God knows how we got on to that!

Burnley next weekend; I predict a lot more dancing than last night based on it’s music policy alone. And some eye-candy boy-watching too courtesy of the beautiful, young and lithe Manchester lads – I feel somewhat dirty with that personal admission – I’ll flagellate myself as a penance, promise

Click the photo below to start the click-through gallery.

Bumped into Linsey again!

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

Gospel Bob´s Bum

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

There were some very expensive records in this box

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

I wonder if he bought the £600 one he was drooling over?

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

Tune

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

John me and Sean

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

Oh Lou! haha

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

Naughty girls

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

The two accommodating and very nice barmen

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

Me ´n´ Mick

Rugby Nighter 14 April 2012

The BEST CD EVER!

2nd April, 2012: Skegness Weekender

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Friday

7 bloody hours sat in traffic! That M25 and M1 have a lot to answer for… anyway, decidedly miffed we arrived in Skeg around 9pm. We were tooled up and stood at the bar by 10.30pm downing our first pint of many.

John Weston was in the room next to us. He’d already given us instructions to pick him up on the way out. We knocked and knocked… phoned and phoned. Nothing! We tried knocking and shouting one last time and heard a whimper from within. He opened the door in his boxer shorts talking a new kind of nonsense I’d not witnessed ever before. I stifled a laugh and asked ‘are you pissed or is it drugs?’. Anyway, we managed to get him to the venue in one piece with his record box as he was DJing at 11. I didn’t buy him a drink and told him to get some water

I already knew I’d be on the top floor all weekend so that’s where I was. It wasn’t long before I was tip-toeing around the dance floor and boy, what a great dance floor it was! Lindsay and I got shamelessly tipsy – she’ll deny it but it’s true! I danced until the sweat rolled down my cheeks and some. My feet were sore and my body devoid of moisture. The time flew by and by 4am we were sat in the soulful Tamla Coffee bar being waited on by Donna and talking bollocks to punters galore. The perfect end to a perfect night of rare and underplayed goodies.

Thank you to the mystery man who paid me the most wonderful compliment; I wont forget that

Man of the match tonight was shared between John Weston and Mick H.

Saturday

We were up relatively early on Saturday having agreed to go out for a proper luncheon. John tagged along and we had a lovely relaxed afternoon with a few sherbets for good measure.

The venue was fairly busy for an afternoon and again, we hit the upper floor to hear some nice chilled out music whilst drinking more beer. I tottered about in my new shoes, slowly crippling myself. By the end I had to remove them and walk home bare-footed! I did manage a dance or two in them though. And far too many adult beverages to boot. We left around 6pm I believe.

Power-nap time was upon us. Lindsay woke me up and said Karen, do you know it’s quarter to 11? EEK! Out of bed like a shot and into the shower for a hose-down. Lindsay was taking aaaages and as it was so late I went ahead so she didn’t feel pressured and so I could do the dance floor again. What a night. Superb records yet again that found me damp all over in no time at all.

My trousers kept falling down but this didn’t stop me dancing; I hoiked them up regularly and carried on regardless. It was an allnighter tonight and boy, did my feet and legs suffer. Perfect! And being that this venue has a balcony on every floor it was also perfect for cooling off and having a smoke and a breather.

Kylee was in the house tonight; it was her Hen Night as she ties the knot with Ian in 3 weeks. Good luck guy’s and may the Sun shine on you all day and forever more

Man of the match tonight has to be Johnny Beggs. Some super fantastic spins; some which I’ve not heard before but was still drawn to the floor to shake my toosh.

Sunday

Back to the Tamla Cafe for post-nighter Lattes and mithering.

We fell in to bed at 7.30am and awoke at 9.30am. Damn it! Surprisingly I felt fairly alert. And I did a pee that lasted for about 5 minutes. I must have broken the pee world record. I was now, almost, dessicated.

This was not to last long mind; the alert bit I mean. Showered and dressed in a ‘dress’ we walked along the prom and dined alfresco on Scampi and Chips. I suspect there’d be more scampi in a prossies knickers the morning after the night before because there wasn’t ANY in that which was presented to us on a cheap styrene dish. We all sat there people watching (insulting) as locals and holiday-makers trundled past making the best of a beautiful day. Directly opposite were the cheapest looking ‘fun fair’ rides I’ve seen since 1974 and couldn’t believe people actually paid to ride on them.

The venue opened at 1pm and as Lindsay and I sat there, huffing and puffing, nursing our drinks we were joined by Mr & Mrs Aldridge. It was as much as Lindsay and I could do to sit there but our Wendy was on full-steam and full of dry wit. After a couple of hours Linds and I had had enough – not of Wendy I might add, but of ‘it all’. We headed back to our hotel and laid down to look at the back of our eyelids for a wee while.

We managed another couple of hours at the venue later on but left for the last time at around 9.30pm giving our thanks to Dave & Donna for a lovely weekend. Donna, I remember who Madge was a helper of…. Dame Edna!

So, there we have it. Not as much ‘capers’ as experienced when everyone’s in a caravan park or holiday camp but lovely all the same. The journey home was actually pleasant; especially whilst sat watching a lorry load of uniformed Army lads as we sipped Latte half way home. God I wish I was young again because I couldn’t half have given them one

With conversations about Len Barry, Madge, newies, oldies, rare, overplayed, slapped-arse faces, dancing, dying, hand-baggers, liars, lack of sex, embarrassing sexual predators and bodily pain, the weekend ended.

Thank you to everyone for making my weekend so great. I’m not going to list you all as there’s not room but a special mention goes to Dave and Donna for arranging everything for us all. And a thank you to our Hoteliers at the Coasters Hotel – really lovely people and it was clean and comfortable even though I had a bedspring cause a bruise on my hip and the shower spat rather than poured. I would stay there again though; cheap and cheerful. Mick Cooper was snapping away all night too so look out for his snaps, they’re always amazing!

Lastly, someone recently asked me a question, which was probably rhetorical but I’ll answer it anyway. “Do you really need to drive 300 miles to get fucked and then drive 300 miles back?” YES (see above) but then you probably ‘still’ don’t understand even though I’ve spelled it out for you

Me and Noel, again!

Spot, Steph & Dave

John Weston

kev

Lindsay and me

John & Mick

John, me and Mick

Sam & Mick

Donna & Gail

Skegness Weekender 30 March 2012

Pauling, Donna & Gail

Pauling & Gail

Mick H

Skegness Weekender 30 March 2012

Beggsy, me and John

Lindsay, me and Lindsay

The Two Lindsays

Me!

Me Again

My beautiful shoes

Skegness Weekender 30 March 2012

Gail, Donna and Me

Lindsay & Beggsy

Well!

Skegness Weekender 30 March 2012

Believe it or not, I could see out of these!

18th March, 2012: Bidds 6th Anniversary

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After two and one quarter hours I arrived at Bidds raring to go. That was record time! Greeted by the ever lovely Linda I skipped inside scanning the room for victims to stand with and speak to. Well, I’d driven up alone so had to latch on to someone. Easy peasy

As it was Tony Foster’s 50th Birthday he’d laid on a buffet; Roger Banks paid several visits! I’m sure he filled up his pockets with vol-au-vent’s and pickled onions

Out of character I spent most of the night talking; I’d say 50% of the records moved me enough to skid on to the dance floor and shake my toosh. Mr Beggs played two wonderful tracks which of course, as usual, I cannot remember but keep your ears peeled as he’ll be playing them a wee bit as they’re new to him and the rest of us.

I’d made an effort and donned my favourite suit that I’ve not worn for quite a while, together with my Swarovski Crystal brassier. If you see a photo of a glittery cleavage around the internet that’s down to a perv taking a covert shot on his phone! Still, my boobies appreciated all the attention they received. Aren’t they powerful tools!

Musically the night was more varied than it’s been for aaages! Truly something from every genre and the floor was busy right through the night right up to when Ted Couldstone played the last record. The guests, Toppers and Danny, delivered 4 fab sets between them and our 12 Inch Willy also presented two great sets. Ted Massey did what Ted Massey does and kept the floor happy. Together with the 3 residents, Mace, Beggsy & Des, there were enough ‘never heard that before’ records to keep me happy that’s for sure.

It was a pleasure to meet Richard (Empty Bottles) and his very pretty Lady, Georgina (I think that was her name!). I also made the acquaintance of a girl called Gail. When she introduced herself I apologised in advance that I would probably forget her name. Anyway, the bloke next to her let out a rip-roaring fart and said ‘there’s a gale’

Of course, with such a ‘memory marker’ I’ll not forget her name ever again hahahaha.

The dance floor was perfect. Ant had done us proud with his DIY and it was a pleasure to dance on.

Mr Massey was noticeably svelte! Looking good fella :)

There was also a marked female minority. It was like I was in a Boys Club. Not that I mind, being a bit of a Tom Boy, but all they do is talk about records

Luckily I had the gorgeous Jen & Ingrid to be girly with so all was not lost. Samantha turned up at around 3.30am and as our paths haven’t crossed for a while it was lovely to see her again. By the time I’d swapped beer for water I took a big gulp and found myself thinking childish thoughts so skipped past Mace and pushed both my fingers in my cheeks and let him have it full blast – that was the only naughty thing I did all night. Sorry! I couldn’t help myself

Mind you, what goes around comes around and later on as I was stood behind the records having a natter with the lads, I hoicked myself up onto the ledge at the back and before I knew it I’d gone down into the pebble-filled well behind with my legs akimbo and up in the air like a right twat

So, with conversations about 15 inch cocks, sexless marriages, hairy and hairless men, Bidds was as it always is… fun and frolicky.

After a Latte and a natter with the Lads at Stafford Services I plodded home alone. It snowed! Filthy weather which I don’t like after being up all night.

Once again, thank you Mace and everyone else at Bidds; I had a blast. Now to commence Operation Re-hydration…