F**k Yeah! by Al Calm (e novels to read online .txt) 📕

That's Bungle Bob for being a total mentalist. He’s proper darkside, like darker side of hardcore tip. He’s losing it quicker than me. I'm a bit grey, not as in going grey but like unknown origin kind of thing – where does all this weird hair come from? I don't know what I'm chatting about but those who know will definitely know. I just ride with the flow, going where the party goes down, hoping I'm down on the guestlist - I'm just having it wherever there's a rave going on! You knows it, I'm gonna be hitting that high and I'm always cutting shapes!

And it ain’t too pricey to get in, that whole buy four tickets get one free kinda vibe, I dig that! Fuck, hate getting me wallet raped on the door, it’s usually at the bar. Got to beat that, though, just might be some tight house party pussy just waiting to get it on. If not, you’re just dead, it’s just time. And if you ain’t living it, it’s just dead time, ain’t it?

Yeah, I fucking love getting wasted! YES! YES! YES! I been doing it for too long now. I think Bungle Bob works as well, don't ask how. I don't know much about Bungle Bob, since I first met him at those acid nights, though I've known him for about five years. I can’t exactly say we're like brothers from other mothers, but we always know how to find each other when we want to get on it and get proper fucked up.

I try to be chilled, I know I can feel real cotton-mouth, droney-MD throat; me gob's real sore and dry, like a fucking porn star's fisted arse, where the fuck did I put that water bottle? I’ll be spitting cotton; why I chucked the socials, can't look pretty online chalking to shit. Look like a rabid dawg – yeah big up the E.G.C.!It cool, started to see me hand flicker, proper shining on a star, like I'm in some old computer game. You know that thing when you got hit in a game - like in Street Fighter II or Mortal Kombat - and whoever you were playing as they got all like dazed a bit, usually before when you clocked you probably going to lose!

Yeah, that's when you know you eyes are totally fucked: always Day-Glo dazing, properly confused up! Me eyes are going gamma, really tripping out like a psychedelic Cyclops. I ain't blasting people with me red bug eye, though I'm turning into a proper eye-popping freak. I scare a couple of girls who see me eyes proper spasm like some kind of weird wig out. Going all Easy Rider, for real! I'm all shaking and winking me eye at two hundred MPH, in riddim to the one hundred and forty plus BPM. Freaks them out, freaks me out. I got to think again.

End up chatting about how Krome and Time's London Talk proper seminal. Wicked when Invisible Man's The Beginning gets dropped, too. I'm clucking for Autoload, Scotty - pancake it for Golden Hen - Ricky and Sound Murderer, who the fuck wouldn't be going proper mad for it? This getting proper rubadub, real ruffneck and deep down and dirty. Fucking losing me mind in the vibes!

:-]

That's it! I'm still buzzing, but I had to find Bungle Bob, I been here before - just a little trippy freak out. I wig out a lot, just the vibe wigging me out even more. It's wiping me fucked up mind, fucking with me mad thoughts.

I love the vibe; I'm dancing like a motherfucker, scared some slick hair posh looking kid in tight jeans, pointy shoes and a Fred Perry shirt. Looks like a poof, you never know these days, do you? Shirt-lifters look well tonk these days! Probably a politically correct militant asexual, so watch your chatter! Done a bit of me old skool raggamuffin stoner-shuffle-skanker dance! Jokes man, fucking pure jokes and vibes!

I was proper laughing! Everyone's laughing. Sure, maybe not everyone. But we're all smiley here, loved up people. Big up positive vibes! I don't give a fuck if people laugh at me. Who the fuck gets scared of me? Just looking fucked don't mean you're a fucked up fucker looking to rob them up, rape them then kill them. Fucking middle-class knee-jerk bullshit!

I fucking hate class shit, really fucks things up. I probably said it before, I'll always say it again. Proper hate the class thing, monarchy all that bullshit. I just couldn't believe this posh dude's expression. The look in his eyes was just real fear. He looks at his mate. Oh my days, he does the zoned out look – like when you know, it's some mad Shit you're proper fucked kinda look. Probably wished he'd taken his own bodyguards. I don't know the kid, maybe he's not proper posh, maybe just real sheltered. Enough of them about these days.

Definitely one of those hard pressed middle-class types, though. Joke Gold Bomb tee, thin jeans, turned up with brownish soft shoes. Opted for pop-socks over the raw mankles vibes!! Straw hat tilted to the poser-angle. The hair always immaculately styled under the hat - how does that happen? Though the hipster poser probably wanks over Jamie Oliver and Joe Wicks, he does crack me up. It'll be dull if we all the fucking same, right? You know, it's all like it all over UK. Love- hate shit, it all gets mash up to me, just don't bother me no more. Like I give a fuck!

I don't mind them. He's probably got a dull office job, he could be a real square, but he'scurious. He'sjust like us, the rave unites, he wants to get mash up and dig music you ain'tgonna hear everyday if you're a total square! Though what the fuck he doing here if he's a proper tight ass? Got to be his day off, or he's on a last minute weekender? I shouldn't think about it so much, but he real nervy for a young dude. These kids gotta chill, get some wicked funky shit, then proper get on it!

I thought I seen Posh Boy try to get into the vibe - just about to bust a likkle move, cut a likkle shape - but he just digs the phone out of a tight pocket, films the crowd for a bit then himself for a bit, then films the crowd again.

This ain'tshit for pop-tart posers. The fucking wicked vibe, the champion sound, the number one sound, the ruffneck sound, how can you not get into it? Loads of hot ladies dancing, tonnes of sweaty camel toe on show; they want to get fucked up, they got the school run proper covered by grannies as they're proper going for it tonight, they ain'tgonna recover for it for sure!

Fuck it, I speak to the posh kid: Easy geezer, I say to him. You dig it? I go, right in his face. He mumbles something that I can't quite hear, then fiddles with his huge smart phone. Always the way, the DJ drops a banger out from the blue! Oh me days – oh yes, oh yes! It's Doctor Octagon! Dugsy's a true legend, he proper knows his shit, I yell at him.

I'm energised by the original Pirate Vibe Piper's set – funky blood-clot junglist hardcore, it's got to be the best ever medicine for the soul; this posh kid looks at me like I'm Rowdy Roddy Piper - I ain't got me specs on, you chill out fucker! - but he's just nodding at me, all confused as fuck. He's shit scared to say anything to me. I hate all this class shit, posh versus poor - it seems to be another bullshit leftover for shitty old Blighty!

I leave it, don't want him thinking I'm harassing him! Yeah, guess not everyone's cool with the ultra-friendly raver vibe. Can be in yer face, gotta say shit, right? Can't stop chatting shit! Who can you really trust? Sometimes it can all go a bit dark side but it should be always on a peaceful trip too, and it sweet to meet like-minded people. Who fucking cares where they from, what their skin colour, what religion they dig or if they're born posh or proper poor! Who fucking gives a fuck these days? We are all one, trust me! Wigged out levelling bizz! We're all cool at heart, us fucked up ravers been all kinds of chemicals for decades, proper fuck you up for time!

Yeah a lot of the kids these days hate sweating, they hate people smelling. Raving if you having it, you're having it right? Ain't a wicked one without your shirt stuck to your back! But you can't help sweating in a sweaty club innit – you sweat even more when there's no fucking air con, or they turn it on twice throughout the entire rave! It's so you go to the bar more - make mine a tap water! It a joke to me when you get smell-fascists up in the place- some people are proper snooty!

By today's standard, you're expected to somehow not sweat when you're raving – gotta look box fresh pristine, sooo fresh n sooo clean for your oh-so- special-social media! It impossible not to sweat! But people come up to you thinking they doing you a favour to tell you that you stink right now, when you're like sweating everywhere, it impossible to stop sweating. Raving is a workout if you rave hard! Even harder when you're buzzing your tits off! Yeah, some of those people who take huge joy in telling you hum, have obviously never raved with speedfreaks, they must be so young they don't have a clue – yeah for real, when the bass gets dark so does these speedfreaks pants – brown sound eat your heart out! Me nose fucked anyway, rancid shit farts, dancefloor Maltesers and simian arm pits don't do fuck all to unblock me fucked nose anyway! I guess I'll blame it on the boogie – as well as a shitload of bugle!

It all about the vibes man, relax bro, it's all good I say, adding to some fucked up chatter! He nods, almost smiling. It been over ten seconds since he last looked at his fucking phone!

Fuckheads like me piss people off for some reason. Maybe he can just tell I'm unemployed and knows I ain't a good contact for him to get on in the big bad real world. Networking for me means something else.  trend obsessed Faceache ravers can be a bit uptight. All about the look never vibes. I wink at him as security does a round, dropping me last red Mickey Mouse. Proper banging Eurobuzzers!

I move away from Strawberry Poshcake. I see there's a few more ladies here than usual. Sometimes you get five blokes with one bird, all trying to dagger and grind her. Fuck spearing, just all like Soca style, looks like they're daisy chaining. Daisywerkit, fuck the T!!! Sounds like a decent porno idea. Save it for the spontaneous orgy later.

Don't get the clubs what are just full of moody blokes with the odd fucked bird, who's so fucked she's pretty much close to passing out and they're all feeling her up. It a weird vibe a total fuckhead scenario.

Speaking of passing out, the old eyes go all blurry, can't wait to catch Dazee later on too - hoping I don't fall asleep on the fucking tube again! Proper waste of a day falling asleep on tubes. No fucker wakes you up, or some jobsworth shit scared cleaner bells up the tube filth, so you get some tube dibble trying to wake you up