I is gonna give some airtime to madstrummer who needs to rant. Of course if you need to rant, I is the best person to look for. CNN ma. The introduction of another guest: Madstrummer with End of an Era.
My fellow readers. I have a Dream.
And that dream is to completely end talk about the ridiculous show and it's participants.
And now to fulfill that dream, i offer a parting shot.
As mentioned before, i was en-thrusted with the gift of security. Thus it came as a pleasant surprise when someone told me today, at the beginning of the show, whilst two Kocksters were pushing out the rostrum, one of them two beanbags muffled out a struggled "Phuck", audible enough for the back row to hear.
Moving along towards Kommitee Kock-ups. One notable Nobel Laureate in the Alumni decided to change backstage planning and dutifully NOT inform the Floor Manager. Furthermore, the Kollective Kuthu-mongers booked the venue, with the event slated to start at 5, from 3 onwards. Giving them ALL of 2 hours to set up lights, deco, and the wat-have-yous. And i'd have you know, that one performance, had people backing out of, then backing in, then out of again and back in, two days before the show. And finally, one Munky, one KLK named Kiren, (spelt with the K nonetheless) deserves a full on assault. Look out for tt one folks. Thats a whole chapter on its own.
Next up: audience. Now you pay 10 bucks for a show.
10 Bucks. That equals to 2 bottles of tiger at my Fav Kopitiam. One pack cigarettes. How much a good friend of mine made in two games of Pool to fund his taxi ride to his next watering hole. And not to forget, a very nice red note that brings such joy when unexpectedly found in the pockets or depths of the old wallet.
And wat to do the KLKs do after splurgin that amount. They come in 30 mins late. They go out for a piss every 3 minutes. One even dozed. Don't deny. I saw you, you Kunt. One old fogey even snapped at me, as in literally snapped his fingers and said, pointing to the stairs, "People are falling down the stairs, put someone there".
You bastard, dont you ever snap at me. Ever. If you're concerned, you old fart, write in to SP. Maybe they'll fix eskalators for u. But one day someones gonna break those already prunewrinkled fingers.
And last of all: The performing schools. It's duly noted that the first school came in last, and the last school came in first. Of cos the last school adamantly requested that they perform first and ended up performing last but won first. Honestly from all that confusion, they drew their inspiration, and fucked wit everyone of the 1000 strong audiences heads. Maybe even the judges. Maybe the judge's heads were already messed with. $$$?
Moral of that story: Smack that bitch's head into the stage and you'll win.
I write this today, merely to bring to light the end of an era. One where, the shows were interesting. Gripping. Fun, even. The only cockups well hidden. There was no need for security as the people were nice. And the KLKs did the annual fight well away from the majority. Whistles and cat-calls were all the rage, and not wisecracks like, "Punde, Pregnant ah?!".
Therefore i suggest we call an end to all the banter, comments and posts regarding anything to do with this let down of a show. Let us put in all behind us. And move on.
For as you may or may not know, AJC's Agni lurks.
And we're sharpening our knives as it is.
My fellow readers. I have a Dream.
And that dream is to completely end talk about the ridiculous show and it's participants.
And now to fulfill that dream, i offer a parting shot.
As mentioned before, i was en-thrusted with the gift of security. Thus it came as a pleasant surprise when someone told me today, at the beginning of the show, whilst two Kocksters were pushing out the rostrum, one of them two beanbags muffled out a struggled "Phuck", audible enough for the back row to hear.
Moving along towards Kommitee Kock-ups. One notable Nobel Laureate in the Alumni decided to change backstage planning and dutifully NOT inform the Floor Manager. Furthermore, the Kollective Kuthu-mongers booked the venue, with the event slated to start at 5, from 3 onwards. Giving them ALL of 2 hours to set up lights, deco, and the wat-have-yous. And i'd have you know, that one performance, had people backing out of, then backing in, then out of again and back in, two days before the show. And finally, one Munky, one KLK named Kiren, (spelt with the K nonetheless) deserves a full on assault. Look out for tt one folks. Thats a whole chapter on its own.
Next up: audience. Now you pay 10 bucks for a show.
10 Bucks. That equals to 2 bottles of tiger at my Fav Kopitiam. One pack cigarettes. How much a good friend of mine made in two games of Pool to fund his taxi ride to his next watering hole. And not to forget, a very nice red note that brings such joy when unexpectedly found in the pockets or depths of the old wallet.
And wat to do the KLKs do after splurgin that amount. They come in 30 mins late. They go out for a piss every 3 minutes. One even dozed. Don't deny. I saw you, you Kunt. One old fogey even snapped at me, as in literally snapped his fingers and said, pointing to the stairs, "People are falling down the stairs, put someone there".
You bastard, dont you ever snap at me. Ever. If you're concerned, you old fart, write in to SP. Maybe they'll fix eskalators for u. But one day someones gonna break those already prunewrinkled fingers.
And last of all: The performing schools. It's duly noted that the first school came in last, and the last school came in first. Of cos the last school adamantly requested that they perform first and ended up performing last but won first. Honestly from all that confusion, they drew their inspiration, and fucked wit everyone of the 1000 strong audiences heads. Maybe even the judges. Maybe the judge's heads were already messed with. $$$?
Moral of that story: Smack that bitch's head into the stage and you'll win.
I write this today, merely to bring to light the end of an era. One where, the shows were interesting. Gripping. Fun, even. The only cockups well hidden. There was no need for security as the people were nice. And the KLKs did the annual fight well away from the majority. Whistles and cat-calls were all the rage, and not wisecracks like, "Punde, Pregnant ah?!".
Therefore i suggest we call an end to all the banter, comments and posts regarding anything to do with this let down of a show. Let us put in all behind us. And move on.
For as you may or may not know, AJC's Agni lurks.
And we're sharpening our knives as it is.
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