Does exactly what it says on the tin. Some of the nonsense contained herein may be very loosely related to The Sisters of Mercy, but I wouldn't bet your PayPal account on it. In keeping with the internet's general theme nothing written here should be taken as Gospel: over three quarters of it is utter gibberish, and most of the forum's denizens haven't spoken to another human being face-to-face for decades. Don't worry your pretty little heads about it. Above all else, remember this: You don't have to stay forever. I will understand.
There's a story about some girl giving head during a Julian Cope gig, with Mr Cope coming out with the line (something like) "This song's for the head in the third row."
It would never happen in the better concert halls of Glasgow!
Disgusted, Glasgow South
"And when you start to think about death, you start to think about what's after it. And then you start hoping there is a God. For me, it's a frightening thought to go nowhere".
~ Peter Steele
No band. I think it was some sort of student night. I was young (ish) and impressionable at the time, and visting a girl who lived nearby. We had blagged our way in, and it all was so very dangerous and cool, and we were so very grown up. I forget her name, but she had the smoothest, loveliest skin I can remember.
An old mate of mine was actually GIVEN a blow job in the Ritz, in Manchester.
and it wasn't hidden away in the corner, either- it was in a well-lit corridor leading to the toilets, with LOADS of people constantly walking back and forth.
Nice.
Actually, You've made me all nostalgic now for old-school student nights.
When I was 16, I used to be able to go to the Ritz wiv a tenner in me pocket, get absolutely SMASHED, dance till two, get a kebab from 'monsoons' (Mancs will know the place I mean) and get a taxi back, and still have change left.
These days I spend more than a tenner during a tuesday night down the pub.