Tuesday 24 February 2009
Blag off..
When did blagging become a British pastime? Every cockney Zoo reading arsehole who thinks Human Traffic was a seminal 90s guide to life seems to be in on it. This is a quick list of the worst and most pathetic ‘blagging’ techniques used at my events‘. Nice one brother. I said nice one, brother!’. Wankers.
“I know the band mate, I’m on the list!”
If you’ve seen the band more than 5 times, this does not mean you know them. If they once waved back at you after your frantic and rather pathetic attempts to get their attention at a gig, you don’t know the band. If the band spat on you last time you saw them play, this doesn’t mean they care about you. You are a loser, and the band never wants to meet you, ever. So now pay me 8 quid, thanks, i'm never getting these moments back. Good day.
“I’m reviewing your gig for our magazine”
I don’t care what shitty student rag you work for, pieces of black and white A4 paper stapled together is NOT a magazine. You and your mates writing about what’s ‘cool’ in Brighton and some boring story about what happened to someone on their gap year is NOT a magazine. Distributing it to friends and family to try and show your parents your doing something with your life does NOT make it a magazine. So now pay me 8 quid, Thank…
“ Its my birthday mate, all my mates are in there!”
Ah! Two blags in one. If it’s your ‘birthday’ and all your mates are ‘in there’. Your telling me, that all your mates left you on your birthday to go to a club and you’ve been left outside with no money? Either, everyone hates you, your friends are cunts or you’re a lying toe rag. All three perhaps?. If by the off chance, all of his mates are in there, you’ll see a full grown man pull a face that looks likes he’s straining for a shit. “Auw, please mate, everyone’s in there, please”, there is nothing more unattractive or low I wish he’d left.
“Oooo, that’s a bit pricey mate, what’s on tonight anyway?’
You’ve been in a queue for half an hour and you don’t even know what’s on? What kind of a reprobate goes somewhere, queues up, complains hey've been waiting too long, then asks whats on? And now I have to sell it to you? Should these people even be allowed out to a social venue with members of the public or should they be culled? It’s a fair debate.
“
“There’s like 10 people with me, can we get a discount?”
I quite like the idea of these people selling themselves like low grade supermarket meat, but although this ‘bargain’ is hard to refuse, I think ill take my chances that like everyone else, you’ll end up paying. Now that’s 8 quid….fuck it, I hate you!!
I have more, but I'm annoyed even writting about it. Lesson of the day from your friendly local promoter, we have bouncers, and I hate your face, so just pay, and of course, have a lovely time sir...
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