Dirtied Sneakz

Girls. Like the Buddha sed: Ouch.
So me getting serious about the dedicated drinking, real tough-like. At which point I noticed I was missing some good partying.. Hence, off the booze.
Leaving me sober enough to report, gods bless your pretty little doomed souls.

The trouble really started on friday, trying to get back into Brussels the trains were blocked due to an accident. Luckily I was equipped with my trusty mp3-player -which has been without a usb cable for three weeks yet I'm still not getting tired of the mixes on there - check them.
Took me a while to get cashed up and downtown, then went looking for a colleague I was supposed to meet at club Nostalgie. Avoid.
Headed over to Cafe Central where we stayed till dawn, dancin' and groovin' and missing the funky shit going down at Recyclart. Khaaan!
Still good show and all that, and blisters on my feet proving I didn't get on the train without my money's worth.
Got off, crashed, laundry run- slightly worse for wear- and a bit of re-hydrating in Leuven city park. Kitted up again. Headed for Brussels, where I'd arranged for drinks -water for me- and a first visit to Dirty Dancing.

A brisk walk to the Mirano, where I spewed some cash and was allowed to put my thumb on an ink pillow. worst. stamp. ever!
Entered 'the Hell'. Well, actually, my friends wanted to get down early, so the club was empty and we went and sat in the bar where the music was fine indeed- waltzed in to the tune of Spaced Invaders- kudos Stephen. After a drink or two, trying to make ourselves heard over the racket -the bar must have been louder than the main room - we finally got down to business. 'the Hell' was going fine, didn't recognize the dj but at that point -0.30h ?- everyone was grooving along. The main problem was on the other side of the counter. This is not a huge club, but substancial enough for me to skip the headcount. Yet serving the whole damn thing, including the bar, it had 4 (four) people. You can imagine the waiting time with that kind of staff.
The music however kept a decent level, and even a few highpoints before Sweatshop started. Was it the lack of booze? When they started I noticed Quality. They were good, they were very good, and they had something that had been missing from the previous set - decent vs. good.
After Sweatshop things went downhill musicwise, an inept dj fuckign up mixes and relying on obvious hits to score. He scored allright, but I was losing that Kansas feeling.
I walked my friends home around three-ish, and returned to find the same dj fucking up. A few times I got into the mood but he always managed to follow up with a record that was basically lame - cliched and obvious.
Back to the bar where the waiting times at the counter were just as bad - poor overworked guy - but the music was better. I managed to dance a little but in general was spinning down, and at four I walked out, handed my smallchange to the resident gorilla and crashed at my friends'.
Basically I'd been disappointed in the quality of the deejaying. Having seen Stephen at work in smaller venues, and with some nice electro being spun in the bar, finding commercial- read 'radio'- techno played in a room named 'the Hell' was rather crap.

They also have a spinning dancefloor.