Skankin' Not Shankin

43373404_224949484f_m, originally uploaded by chantelle.

Parts of my body don't like me today. I was cruel. Whatever free cocktail that they were supplying us with at Ye Olde Axe was lethal. Stomach lining stripper straight up, down and around. Ok, it didn't taste THAT bad at the time but was a bit like coke when you're abroad, leaves you feeling you've crossed the desert without water, cling film taking hold of your mouth like a budget gum shield... and this isn't just another paranoid weed dream. You can even taste it when you've cleaned your teeth, well you hope at this point it's toothpaste you've used and not athletes foot cream (not that anyone in my house has that, although I think I got trench foot once). Negatives aside, it gets you LEAN. And judging by events most people in attendance at 69 Hackney Road were in high spirits - be it the alcohol or not. Jon Burnip started off and although I'd not heard of him before serious selection. Hot Headz promotional followed suit, presenting Maximum who warmed the pub/punters up (did I forget to mention it was a strip club before?). Previously had I been asked to put a bet on seeing a pair of naked EE's bouncing in time to 'Serious' or 'Drinking Bear' I would have put a full frontal flash on it never happening. Thank goodness for everyone not wishing a full eclipse that I did not do this. It was definitely amusing although to me not exactly sexy... much like Jordan in her pink wedding dress. I love Jordan, trust me I really do. The left breast especially. When you meet her in all her glory it seems simply impossible that she's able to carry the weight of these things. She did look rather beautiful in a Barbie kind of way... actually now I think about it in greater depth there's definitely something Readers Wives about the tone of that wedding, especially her shoes (be buying that next month then). Mrs Andre aside, Ears, Jammer and Skepta seemed equally distracted by the strippers ("I'll pull out my willy and make a stripper say oh my diddy"). You get the idea. All in good taste mind you. The girls were particularly impressed by the gentlemanly ways of the grime fraternity. Ending on Skream's 'Midnight Request Line' was the ultimate three-wheel up finale before the legendary Ratpack stepped up. This was what the party was for ultimatey - their new album 'Raveology' (I think). If their set last night is anything to go by you have got to buy this album. I've not pulled out some of those dance moves since Dreamscape 21 and it served as a perfect reminder that once past 18 women wishing to skank should invest in a sports bra or worst case, weights. But at least no shanking when I'm ere. The damage is done but I'll live to pert another day. Never ones to let us down, man Jon returned to the decks as did the MC's, Skepta, Jam and Ears releasing fire over jungle. I bet a semi-moonie on that one not happening... actually I can't lie. There was no gambling. I just did it to get some air on the roads. Only Elle J Smalls got a cheeky glimpse on the journey home. Never do this alone. Things had got even more heated outside before we left when Maximum started an orange war. These things were like grapefruits I would not like to be Jammer, he got hit like Australia in the cricket. Maxi Priest you are a badddddd boy. Heavy night anyway. Check pics over at Shottie Collins' blog. You know how she do.