A life changing, Damascene, experience?
The emperor’s new clothes?
I’ve been to a couple of punchdrunk things in the past, but this latest thing that lots of my mates are off to this weekend looks, frankly, appalling and batshit (especially for somebody who has phobias).
I am, of course, reeking with jealousy and fomo.
(Am also thinking that this could be the big get rich quick thingy for DiS- sean hires an abandoned biscuit factory somewhere no more than an hour from Kings Cross, flog tickets at £100 per head, have an overpriced bar outside the venue selling heavily lsd-spiked cocktails, line up the ‘guests’ and have them strip naked before being put into a pitch black wetroom and blasted with a freezing hose, dressed in old rattian sacks, before being shut in tiny carboard boxes, whereupon we play loud rave music into their earpieces and pumping the smell of rancid farts into each box. Then something something about cattle and maybe everybody gets force-fed some kind of smelly liquid that we pretend is cow urine until they choke and beg to get out.
What a sensory experience!
Nobody would dare complain that the emperor was, in fact, bollock naked and this was all just a pile of terrifying shite. Anyway, I digress…)
Anybody going to Barzakh this week?