You heard it here first folks.
Time travel is possible.
Memsahib and moi experienced it ourselves last night.
What started out as a simple visit to the street famous Aqua Club turned into a trip to 1971 as real and frightening as it could be. We’re still shaking with shock.
We’ve been to said club many, many times without incident but last night there was ‘entertainment’ on. Said ‘entertainer’ was a cross between Bernard Manning (the full 70’s version), Mike Reid (God help us), Jimmy Clitheroe and any negatively IQ’d ranting drunk you can think of.
It was awful, really really awful stuff. With jokes such as ‘What’s the mating call of a Blackbird? In faux Jim Davidson type West Indian accent, ‘Come and love me Leroy!’ representing the high points of the show, we didn’t last long.
What was VERY frightening was the fact that the assembled punters, suited and booted and self-righteous to the core, roared with laughter at this cringe making shite, fair splitting their sides most of the time. Christ, allatsea thought that the likes had all died and been eaten by worms by now but seemingly not. There’s little hope for us.
It almost makes one wish for a swift end. Looking toward the Crimea, we may get one.
