Club Oh Shit...

So last friday, fastness of the literal and maccosious kind found me in this new liming spot. Literal fastness because I went to a rally car launch and maccosious fastness because I wanted to see what this new dread club with the dread lime was all about...O'shit

Club O...where do I begin? Only in T and T could someone build a shack in the middle of reclaimed land, provide parking in a muddy carpark that resembles landscape from the cretaceous period, import sand from Tobago, provide portable toilet facilities and call it a club, a liming spot, de place to be on friday, oh and I forgot, you need a membershit card (intentional spelling mistake) to go inside. Club O'shit...

But the owner of the club smarter than all ah we. Why? Imagine the profits, little or no overheads except for the minimum wage paid to the minium age bartenders, ah mean, no lights (because they light flambeau, probably adds to the atmosphere...yeah...), no water, remember portable toilets, rent? *laugh* and of course drinks that are as expensive in club Zen. Club O'shit... Only in T and T would people park outside of Bayside towers, park in Peake's gas station, and worst of all park along the western main road to go to a substandard liming place. Why because it's the new who's who and who was there and who I see there last week with who and oh yeah I limed in O on friday while eating lunch at the office.

O'no, o'shit, not me again...