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Your Perfect Night Out

All Acting Regiment

08:15 / 06.11.05

On the speakers: Weeping Wall. Bowie and Eno. No words. Just a pulse. Phased synth chords and theremins. Flashing pastel coloured lights on the walls spell out ancient alien heiroglyphs of love and joy. No-one knows the language but everyond knows what it means. Smoke and sweat everywhere. People dancing in 70s sci-fi outfits. Bright pink drinks that glow. Lasers holstered. Nothing corrupt. Everything joyful. In the middle of the dancefloor, simply unnoticed, a Dalek, open, empty, tipped over and dead. They all move round it; a sea of make-do physicality.

STOATIE LIEKS CHOCOLATE MILK

08:22 / 06.11.05

Sounds lovely. Would the bright pink drinks be reasonably priced? Cos I think that'd be a date.

10:05 / 06.11.05

Excellent! Can we all come to your club?

10:17 / 06.11.05

And maybe there could be a chill out room downstairs in the basement, fitted out like the interior of the Topkapi Palace, with hookahs and hash pipes galore, and some great cult films showing on the large wallscreens with the sound off.

Plus, every half and hour or so, charming and fit servitors, who live to please, come round with great bronze trays overflowing with canapés, dim sum, amuse-bouches of all types.

Mon Oncle Ignatius

10:18 / 06.11.05

That sounds great. [inserts blatant plug here] Just what the Drones Club can be like on a good night - except the drinks. They're a really good idea.[/plug]

10:29 / 06.11.05

One venue, two rooms. No props, no gimmicks. Through the PA there'd be a mix of filthy, angry, bumping hip hop and bizarre, incandescent, uplifting pop. On stage would be Sodding Wolf's Head, Big Joan, Hunting Lodge and Melt Banana. November 21st, Southampton Joiners, £9.00 everyone.

17:16 / 09.11.05

Sounds lovely. Would the bright pink drinks be reasonably priced? Cos I think that'd be a date.

The bright pink drinks can be had at a particularly welcoming dive bar in san francisco's mission district called The Uptown. I would recommend no more two for an evening, unless you are particularly fond of spending the next morning watching the remnants of the previous evening's revelries splash prettily upon whatever horizontal surface happens to be within striking distance when your insides have decided they've had enough, already and are rebelling as insides are wont to do....

As for my perfect evening, I've already had it. Myself and eight other compatriots decided that since the BART trains here in our fair city were running overnight for once, we would make an evening's sortie to our fair neighbor across the bay, Oakland California. It was a wild, wild night. Nine bicyclists including your humble narrator, all drunk on pink drinks (that is our favorite beverage's name, BTW) hellbent for oblivion.

I would bother with the details here but I'll spare them for the short of attention and whatnot.