Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Now that's what I call a Good Friday!
I was djing (is that even a fecking verb) at a house party over the weekend. X-A hooked us up with a decent set of speakers so the sound was booming. I started off by playing a pretty nifty (in my humble opinion) two and a half hour house set, which was absolutely fabulous. The only problem was that everyone at the frigging party wouldn’t recognise a decent dance toon even if it came at them sneakily from behind and bit the arse off them (for an interesting discussion about asses, check out this amusing post by Betty the Sheep), that is of course except for you Snow Girl, you’re the only one that truly understands me, sniff, sniff. So eventually, after a sound thrashing administered by Bat Girl, which was kind of nice for all of the wrong reasons, I relented and acquiesced to the wishes of the masses. Ya, I know, there’s just no accounting for taste!
Fortunately, I had no Abba tunes - there are some lines I just won’t cross - so Peaches was still extremely upset and spent the entire night repeatedly muttering the immortal phrase “he’s a lovely guy (so true :-) but the worst DJ in the world ever!” Don’t worry, under that veneer of a cold-hearted bitch that she wears so proudly, she really is a peach. Not sure if she’s right about me being a strawberry but I’m gonna roll with it for the moment. So, after a few crowd friendly tunes such as “Flame” by Bell XI (for Bat Girl) and “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley (for Snow Girl) and a few crowd unfriendly tunes like “Root Down” by the Beastie Boys (for Game Girl), people briefly got off their derrières and actually danced for a while. Still, that didn’t last long and DJ was still severely distraught over the lack of any Wolf Tones or Metallica tracks. Ah well, you can’t please everyone!
After that brief spell of joyfulness, things progressively descended into madness and I was haphazardly training in new DJ’s so that I could do some dancing myself. Strangely enough, you give a person a set of headphones and they just don’t seem to want to give them back, this enraptured look of concentration comes over them and they start banging out the beats. Special mentions to DJ Celine, DJ Doc, DJ Wonder Bra Girl, DJ Ronan Keating (if only because he was so bad he made us laugh :-) and to DJ Stoned Girl, who was (allegedly) so stoned out of her head that she thought it was totally frigging hilarious to just keep repeatedly playing “Flame” over and over and over and over again... I wonder if she got those photos we put on her phone when we went through her bag before she dropped in to collect it the following day.
Anyway, it was a good night and I particularly enjoyed Wonder Bra Girl’s story about her wonder bras that seemed to be severely lacking in the wonder department, I think Bat Girl christened them disillusionment bras. Beats me why she thought she needed them in the first place. (Damn, I said that out loud, didn’t I!) Still, she was undoubtedly proud of them all the same if the amount of times she fondled them in the kitchen just to piss off Ronan Keating is anything to go by. By that stage, I was beginning to think they’d never get in that frigging taxi because they really needed to get a fecking room!
Finally, a special shout out to Rat Girl, who couldn’t go because she was puking her guts out from food poisoning, and on her birthday and all, that is sad isn’t it. Also, I’m looking forward to seeing Doc’s photos when he eventually gets off his ass and sorts them out.
I'm off to check out the sheepish views of Betty about the night.
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