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|Bongo - The boys are sweaty, the girls are sketty|
|Directed by||A crow.|
|Written by||M. Night. Shamalamalayan|
|Starring|| The hawaiian shirt guy|
|Produced by|| Some ginger |
|Runtime||10pm til 3am.|
|Budget||As much as you can fit in you wallet.|
“No no no, I said chavs, sluts and the Hawaiian shirt guy only...”
“It's fucking ace mate, hav ya got 20p I cud boraaaa”
“An exceptionally attractive young lady gave me a blumpkin in the toilets, once. I was then rather perturbed when she asked me to give her one”
“Ahhh, who couldn't love the Bongo!”
“I'm pretty sure I lost my virginity there... I can't say for definite though because someone slipped me rohypnol, but I awoke with a broken hymen and a cock up my arse.”
Club Amadeus (Northallerton) is the best club in the United Kingdom by far. A night in Northallerton can never be considered a real night out without finishing it off by hitting this club. Unless you're a fan of
Elders The Masons Arms, which is to say either 14 or gay.
Actually, scratch the first paragraph; the place is shit.
HistoryClub Amadeus was erected in the 1800s, starting out as a brothel for tramps to come and spread their STDs if they had them, and receive them if they didn't. This concept remains to this day. Several nicknames of the club have existed since it's days as a brothel, "The Bongo", originated because the prostitutes were considered objects that you could 'beat' and tap like a bongo drum. "El Bongo", was a variation on this when the prostitutes seemed to become more Hispanic as the years went on.
The club is accessible through 'piss alley', a blind spot connecting the High Street with Amadeus, where the usual suspects are either fingered, bummed and/or gang raped. The club is located in Northallerton, a town best described by Googlemaps as being north of Southallerton, northeast of Westallerton, and northwest of Germany. No one can ever really be sure where 'Allerton' is; most people presume it's somewhere between the dogging site, (Tesco car park) or that place where the dyslexic people go to school (Northallerton College).
Club Amadeus are very strict on it's policies. Here are the official policies of Club Amadeus:
- Bouncers must ask for ID if anyone appears under 18 years of age. Except girls.
- If any prepubscent female attempting to gain entry fails to wear at least 3 centimetres (1.18 inches) in layers of make-up from where her face starts and the blusher ends, she must be ID'd. Measurements to be taken with the bouncer's penis.
- Any male not with a group of people, must be asked for ID even if you can tell they are actually over 18. This will make you, the bouncer, feel like a real man, and will really piss the customer off when they have to show you ID and they see that twat who is three years younger than them smoking in the smoking cage, even though they're not legally allowed to be in the club, or even be smoking for that fucking matter.
- If you work at the bar and spill a drink on someone, promise them a free drink, wipe up the counter, serve someone else and forget the incident ever occurred when the customer enquires about the free drink. This way, we can seem so dedicated to customer satisfation that we can make "genuine" human errors. All four times you stained my fucking corduroys.
- If you work in the cloakroom you must prevent the customer from leaving before 3AM by constantly getting their request for, "the right fucking coat please", wrong. If the customer can't produce a raffle ticket they are quite clearly a coat-thief, hoping to get some randy old man's leather bomber-jacket so they can put it up on eBay for drug money.
- If it is one of our customers birthdays we have a policy here at Club Amadeus that they receive a complimentary bottle of warm champagne. Obviously we will give no formal compliments with that complimentary champagne because let's be honest, it's not like it's easy to do.
- Employ at least one toilet attendant, preferably black, to chant the customary rhymes to boost sales of knock-off aftershave and, almost inexplicably, Chupa Chups.
|No spray, no lay! No splash, no gash! No Armani, no poonani! No Jean Paul, my kids don't return my calls!|
On Saturday 5th December 2009 at around 1AM Club Amadeus had a powercut, which the ogres at the door claimed was widespread. Except for - what was once - Elders and all other buildings in Northallerton. This apparent lack of electricity gave many, including myself, 30 minutes of shit music for £3 with no refund. This sparked chants of, "We want our £2 back", to be sung by all 8 of the customers. What many people believe to be true is that the DJ got so fed up of playing shit remixes of Black Eyed Peas songs over and over, so he turned the power off at the mains. The staff, upon realising this, decided it was too much trouble to turn it back on, so they should just pretend there was a powercut so they could call it an early night.
For a brief period of time Club Amadeus was the talking point of Northallerton, and indeed the UK public as a whole, eventually gaining the club a mention on, "8 Out of 10 Cats". This publicity was inspired after the bouncers started handing out forms of contraception for free to females that came in... You know... Cos of all the AIDS going around. It later transpired that this was not an NHS approved attempt at preventing STDs and - equally as bad - kids, but it was actually just a really shit 'pulling' technique the bouncers thought would be subtle, but oh so clever. Behave boys.
Friday night the Bongo is usually a quid to get in. The bargain lasts about as long as it take you to get in and realise that, no, the door to the smoking area was not locked after all, there was just no one in the club.
Saturday nights are always the better day to hit the Bongo if you ever decide to waste £7 on just standing around in an insanely hot room with lots of people that smell of sweat and urine. It's like paying to stand in a retirement home.
The drinks range from £8 to £30 depending on how little ice you want in your drink. If you ask for no ice they'll add some anyway just because they know you won't argue. And whatever you do, don't argue. Because they will stick their fingers in and fish the ice out, and then they will ask, "Is that good enough for you?", and you will politely nodd.
- Never take your eyes off your drink for even a second (regardless of your sex), because chances are you will black-out and wake up in a bathtub with your kidneys on eBay.
Maestro's Bar has a games room for anyone wanting to waste beer money on 46 seconds worth of gameplay on an arcade racing car game, that bears no resemblance to real driving at all with it's 90s style graphics. The games room also has a Time Crisis arcade machine (that's never on) and a pool table that will only accept multiples of 60p before you realise there is one cue and no chalk.
If you are an out-of-towner, otherwise known as a foreigner, and you need to get a taxi to anywhere outside of Northallerton, expect prices to be £20-£500 after midnight. These robbing bastards (usually foreign themselves) have an agreement with the club that even if you don't need a taxi, if you are paraletic the bouncers will force you into one, and the taxi fare will be split between cab company and club owner.
Maestro's Bar is the 'evil twin' side of the club as mentioned earlier, for the older club-goers, where, "I'm Walking On Sunshine", will be played at least 42 times in a night before someone asks the DJ for Bon Jovi's, "Livin' on a Prayer", to be played. At which point anyone within twenty feet of the dancefloor will come on purely to shout their own version of the lyrics. There must always be at least 6-9 people on the dancefloor at any one time, if there isn't the DJ would surely kill himself, or anyone not dancing. This is why people take it in turns to dance on the dancefloor; they don't want to test the myth.
|Woah-oah! We're half way there! Woah-oah! Sitting on a chair! I'm so drunk, I'm gonna smell your hair! Woah-oah I'm pissing on this chair!|
—A very drunk you
Easily the best thing about this club (simply because it doesn't smell like some guy's scrote), the Penthouse makes the downstairs look like Josef Fritzl's cellar; you'd go there if it was a tourist attraction, but you don't really want to touch anything. As it only opens on the last saturday of every month, the Penthouse will usually headline a DJ from Wrexham FM to make it seem like this saturday is the one you really want to go to.
While there are a few exceptions to the rule generally every night has a theme for fancy dress, usually it's either chavs and skets, or chavs and sluts. Occasionally you will find the odd group that have come from a birthday party dressed in tight neon clothing and very little else. This is called the, "Over forties night". The group are obviously of the female variety, and they are called cougars.
- Wild cougars are also known to prowl the dancefloor on a saturday night, pinching the bums of unsuspecting adolescents simply because they're hornier than Gary Glitter in a playground.
- Your mum is a common feature of a themed night in Club Amadeus. She will usually be getting off with one of your mates and embarrassing the shit out of you when you are tagged in the pictures on facebook. The bitch.
The Hawaiian Shirt Guy
Affectionately known as the 'Where's Wally' of Club Amadeus for his bi-weekly cameo appearances.(Bi-weekly as in twice a week, not every two weeks. In fact... Shit! Has anyone actually seen him leave?!) Simply knowing of the Hawaiian Shirt Guy means you definitely spend too much time in the club. His unkempt facial hair, bright orange Hawaiian shirt and gold neck chain are the glasses, red-and-white striped shirt and walking stick of his 'Where's Wally' badass style getup. It is a common belief that the Hawaiian Shirt Guy has danced with more half-dressed boys and girls than Gary Glitter has in his entire lifetime. Having your photo taken with this man is like having your photo taken with an overgrown cardboard cut out of an umpa lumpa.
The cage. This is the only part of the club where you can get away from the stale air that hangs above the dancefloor. If you are seeking some fresh air then you are shit out of luck because this is the only place to get it. You can almost taste the irony.
So, you've paid extortionate prices, had drinks spilled on you, witnessed your mum sucking your mate's tongue, had cougars relentlessly pinch your bum, drunk warm champagne and had your coat lost by the cloakroom staff. Now the lights are coming on and it's time for the ordeal to finally finish. You will be fucking lucky if you can get a taxi, because for some reason the people who could barely even walk out the club are now sprinting to make sure you don't get the taxi you've waited longer than anyone else for. Going to Club Amadeus is like donating at a sperm bank, you'll feel like a massive wanker just for coming.
- You are also expected to get so rat-arsed that you forget just how bad the night really was, so that you are likely to think it was good, and come again. Failure to follow this unwritten rule will provoke claims that driving home on 4 pints is 'piss easy', and that you can, 'dance 3 pints off'.
- "Bump 'n' Grind", is the compulsory mating ritual for chavs and skets to get with one another on the dancefloor. Since most of the women who go to Club Amadeus are homeless, they will usually respond in a manner that would suggest interest, but this is a vain attempt at getting a place to stay for the night without actually having sex with said chav.
- Club Amadeus is notorious for disappointing optimists, and being the place of conception for nearly half of Northallerton's residents.
- 90% of Northallerton's suicides are Club Amadeus-related.
- 69% of women in Club Amadeus said they prefer a good old fashioned finger-fucking to a snog while on the dancefloor.
- 90% of the men who noticed the 69% laughed; anyone who didn't can shut the fuck up.
- 23% of men said they had experienced premature ejaculation while being grinded by either a cougar, or their own mum... Awkwardddd.
- A whopping 96% of men said they had ejaculated while being grinded by your mum. The other 4 percent of men admitted to lying.
- 45% of men have admitted to using their hand to cup women's arses as they "brush" past.
- 90% of women are aware men do this. The other 10% were not aware, and I think you can guess why.
- When asked, 50% of Club Amadeus' women said they enjoy giving head in the toilets; the other 50% couldn't reply with their mouth's full.
- If you hit a female club-goer at 40, there's an 80% she'll die. Hit her at 30, and there's an 80% you won't need rohypnol.
- 90% of men have noticed that one black guy on the dancefloor and have been jealous of his swagger.
- 'Amadeus' is actually the religion (and middle name) of Mozart. The controversial religion bears the motto, "Wenn sie älter ist als neun, sie an ihr vorbei besten", on it's crest. Roughly translated into English, "If she's over nine, she's past her prime".
- The Ooh-wop ooh-wop is the customary chant on the dance floor. A phychologist's translation of this behaviour: "I have no GCSEs and a bucket fanny, I'm single and plan to remain that way through the use of loud high pitched noises."
- The lovable rogue Jimmy Savile made a celebrity guest appearance back in the early '80s. In fact, Club Amadeus' "Measure the layers of make-up with your penis policy", was one Savile came up with himself. Just before he fucked some kids.