
Advertisement
The Queen of Hoxton pub, East London, Sat 3rd MayThis one is a bit of a blockbuster, friends, as the tie-dyeing workshop is merely the beginning of a month-long nightmare of total shite. Queen of Hoxton is a kind of faux-dinge grudge palace in East London, and is more annoying to be in than the bends.The listing states that this is an opportunity for you to "revamp your wardrobe", which would be completely true, if by "revamp" you meant, "make it look like a stereotypical hippie's jumble sale box because even those backwards pricks don't wear this shit any more". I kind of feel like tie-dyeing is something that should be done once or twice in the teen years and then never again for as long as a person lives. It shouldn’t even enter your head as an optional activity, as something that you can perhaps do on a Saturday, let alone be the central premise for a "workshop" attended by you and some other cunts.
Advertisement
Gigalum, Clapham, London, Fri 2nd MayWhat’s the worst question someone can ask you? That’s right: "What sort of music are you into?" If you can’t tell by the way someone is dressed then it’s probably not even worth asking them. Who fucking cares, anyway? What, you're going to have a long, drawn-out conversation with someone you’ve just met about your agreed or conflicting tastes in music? Really? Why don't you just go on the internet? Why don't you call your mum? She misses you.Conversely, the worst thing you can say in response to this question is: "Well, I guess my tastes are pretty eclectic." It’s a boring answer given by dullards, so naturally it would be sound logic to make a club night in fucking Clapham out of it.Your girl Liv Knight will be smashing it up down the Gigalum tonight, and what, you ask, will she be playing? Bit of punk, maybe some jungle thrown in? Pig-squeal metal and a touch of reggaeton? What, Liv, what?! Nosebleed fucking techno?
Advertisement
Brixton East, London, Sat 3rd MayI went along to a sixth-form art exhibition in East London when I was a touch younger. There were some OK paintings and drawings and shit, a couple of people did some video stuff that was cool, I guess. There was one big theme that ran through most of the female students' work, though: it was all about periods. Periods and vaginas. There were vaginas made of cotton, felt, books made of vaginas, giant vagina canvases made of period blood, books whose pages were designed with period blood, the list goes on. It was just pussies and periods all over the gaff.I have a sneaking suspicion that The New Woman, "a day and night event incorporating art, education, music, poetry and dance", may turn into something like that. Songs about periods, poetry about periods, interpretative dance relating to the flow of a period: I can picture it now. Just vaginas everywhere.It fucking terrifies me.@joe_bish
