If you like to inflict pain upon yourself then these discos are where it's at. Jukebox Saturday night it was called, only it was Wednesday or something so it was screwed up from the start. The disco took place in a hall with a bar situated knee deep in miscreant bogan ville. There was some retard presenter from a local shithouse radio station and a nerdy guy with a laptop plugged into giant speakers. We were treated to classic tunes from timeless artists. The likes of Craig McLaughlin, The Pretenders, Bob the builder and a bunch of dead guys from the 70s.. Buddy Holly and the likes.

The crowd could be categorized into 4 groups:

Group one:

Young people who were mostly single actually going to have a good time (somehow.) They'd whore themselves around the dancefloor rubbing their private parts against each other whilst showcasing dance moves you'd expect from an epileptic Mr Bean. They responded with cheers as the degenerate presenter spouted tastless sexual innuendo as he rubbed his fake nipples. (yes he dressed up as a theme for each set, one of which was tom jones... so he waltzed out with a fake oiled hairy chest and rubbed himself while make gestures with his tounge... it was as sexually appealing as a bunch of nude 60 year old carol singers with incontinence problems).

Group two:

Those with mental or physical disabilities. I'm serious .. for some reason the floor was dominated by people dancing in wheelchairs and middle aged pear shaped ladies with down syndrome. I've no problem with that.. but for some strange reason I didn't seem to fit in. The only thing that pissed me off is that I was hassled for wearing shorts and guys in wheelchairs cruised right in. When the guy questioned me about my shorts, I just looked around the room full of fashion statements and thought something was amiss. I didn't realise an unbuttoned flannelette shirt and a jim beam t-shirt was formal dress. Perhaps it was the mullets that set off the outfits. Who knows.

Group three:

Old men. It took me a while to figure it out but there was a mass of old men around the bar none of whom danced but instead watched on fascinated. They all pretended they were watching their daughters but it was blatantly obvious that a mass of 40 year old men were group mentally undressing 18 year old women. They'd sit on their barstools or crowd in corners waiting for prey to walk past. Then they'd drop their eyes with chilling precision and get a lense full of 19 year old ass. It was the single most disturbing group of people. Most were drunk and had mullet haircuts and all were dressed like Stevie Wonder with no personal assistant.

Group four:

People who'd rather be somewhere else, anywhere else.. like a pit full of venomous snakes. I'm not sure that I wasn't the only one in this group.. but it's quite likely. I felt that I was so out of place that I deserved my own category. Most people who were in this group probably left.. but not me. I care about my readers so much that I tortured myself by staying so as you'd never go to one of these places yourself. So in a way I died for your sins.. I am Jesus.

To sum it up: Put a bunch of mentally challenged, fashion allergic half wits together sweating away to music that was out of date the day it was released and you get Jukebox Saturday Night. Don't forget an obnoxious self professed celebrity presenter.

The only small concession was on the way out I breathalysed myself at 0.141 but I didn't wait ten minutes after a drink ... so I only wish I was actually that drunk.

So it would be in your best interest to train yourself a knee jerk reaction. The reaction that when a person sais "Lets go to a disco, a jukebox disco" you punch them in the teeth. May it serve you well.

Comments? Email me