WaltzerExperience :w:

Christmas Party Special: Bangtastic!

permanent url:/home202.htm | week 202 | 08 January 2002
Archives: 2001 | 2000 | Discussions | Wage Slave | Kaner

Christmas as seen by Waltzer.
Triona, Mandy and Waltzer on the way to McSorley's.

Photographed this week: John Rooney, Ian Halpin, John Daly, Amanda, John Nolan, Triona, Waltzer, John Grant, Ollie, Conor, Sean, Kirsty, Jean, Elaine, Stephen, Peter, Caroline, Kate, Irene, Billy, Ruarai, Eamonn, Dave (Cheesy), Podge, Mairead, Marie, Mo, Matt, Tessa.

John F, Ian Al, Sean, Conor, Kirst
John Daly and bird Wall family dinner
Mandy, John Caroline, Billy
Triona, Mandy and Waltzer on the way to McSorley's DJ Steve and friends
John Grant, John Nolan and Ollie Mairead, Marie, Mo
Mandy, John Waltzer, Matt, Tessa


Triona: I hate everybody saying 'Happy new year.' Fuck off.

Everyone suddenly interested in coins
Plant survives 2 week starvation in office
Despite two weeks off, everyone thinks they need a holiday



Search through the archives.


Search the web.

Mark Jordan's
personal site.
Alan Currie's
Purgatory Records
dance label.
Larry, Gareth & Ed's
Danger Here
football site.


Get e-mailed reminder every Tuesday.

The Waltzer Experience is a Tuesday weekly underground culture magazine for the Clonskeagh office. Waltzer welcomes submissions to waltzer@waltzer.net.
Alan Wall is a graphic designer who's interested in photography, web design, Dublin culture and writing.

 Main News

Happy New Year
Waltzer on another year of Waltzer.net.

Kiss This year I have some objectives for the site. I hope to have more external writers, better photography, a broader range of subject matter and more video. I also hope to make the site more interactive with polls and feedback forms.

This year the site will have a re-design to make it fresher, easier to use and to comply better with W3C guidelines. Until then though, you might like to send me in your ideas for the redesign. What do/don't you like, what should there be on the site, what do you find hard to use? Please send me anything you can think of so I can make the site as good as possible. Suggestions etc. to waltzer@waltzer.net.

Competition still open

MorganStill no one has given me the correct answers for the who's who competition that appeared in week 151. The competition will open until Friday where the grand prize or 12.70 will be presented to whoever can tell me who most of all of the people in the pictures are! Entries to waltzer@waltzer.net.

Seperated at Birth

Nessa, James King
L-R: James King, Nessa

Next Week

Veruca SaltSeperated at birth: Who in the place looks like Veruca Salt from Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?

Also photos from the Designer's night out on Thursday. And don't forget that Waltzer.net takes submissions. Send them to the usual addresses.



Let's get worse
Brian Coyle on New Year's Eve in Glasgow.

Brian CoyleAnother New Year's eve in Glasgow, and getting in anywhere means being in town early, there are a few locals who have been there since last night and intend to stay there. Its 4 o'clock and 8 hours 'til the bells.

I go with local celebrities Jim and Dave, and we start in Hope Street's Candy Bar. They know the bouncer but don't get in for free, not tonight. Its an okay bar, it's a little off the rack like the rest of the pubs around town but one of the better ones. The Candy Bar and its pals have muscled out the more traditional Glasgow pubs, and their regulars, the city center is the poorer for it. Jim and Dave have been on television twice this year and are definitely the most famous people at our table, we buy pint size cocktails with rude names and try to get girls to recognize them. It doesn't work.

Outside the Savoy nightclub on Sauchiehall Street, someone has written 'lets get worse,' and it doesn't get much worse than the Savoy. We go to the Savoy. There is no hugging of strangers and messing with traffic cones yet, but Glasgow is nearly there, people are smiling. Thousands of locals and tourists pile into the city's George Square for Hogmany 2002 while we scrape into nightclub of the year 1992. Its 15 quid to get in but it could have been worse. I realize I have again forgotten my camera, (sorry Mr. Wall) and wonder how I remember my own name.

Clubs in Glasgow have a really short shelf life, and the demise of the Savoy nightclub is rubber stamped by the hot-dog stand next to the cloakroom. There is a hot-dog smell everywhere, people are eating them on the dance floor. 12 o'clock draws close and I get the same anticipation I had when I was a kid. I wont get a handful of change from a bleary eyed uncle tonight though, I've turned into my uncle.

12 o'clock and our countdown is welcomed with genuine celebration, "Fuck George Square" shouts our DJ. In George Square American DJ Roger Sanchez brings in the New Year to thousands, I don't know If he shouted fuck the Savoy, but I doubt it. Our DJ is not Roger Sanchez, he's not his cousin either, if he knows who Roger Sanchez is we are doing well. I am offered lifelong friendship and swigs from unmarked bottles, it's a traditional evening. The local celebrities are recognized outside the ladies toilet (which makes their night) and we leave.

Spirits are slightly dampened by the long wait for a taxi, the city center has nearly cleared and it looks like Afghanistan with a few more casualties. We pay our cabbie with the ball of change in our pocket. The Savoy is laughing at us now, we should have gone to George Square.




 That Wrecks Me Buzz

Pissing about
Sarah Hipwell on an ill-fated flight with Air Farce to Florence with Mama Hipwell.

Sarah Hipwell Departure from Dublin was around 8am, say on the Thursday. To spare the gory details and word space, we eventually flew out only 29 hours later!

We thought that we couldn't possibly endure the same cruel irony on the way home? Yeah right!

Anyway, getting up at 5am in a hotel in Paris, Euro Disney to get a taxi to Charles deGaulle Airport in the hope of getting us back to the Emerald Isle, where we should have landed the day before. We board our flight, we strap ourselves in and we take off. Five minutes into the flight, I need the loo. I signal to the stewardess who tells me the light overhead, for your seat belt, is still on, as she busily walks away getting the breakfast ready. Five minutes later, the fuckin' light is still on, the rip (stewardess) is walking about freely, I still need the loo BADLY. I'm sitting only 2 seats away from the bog! I signal to the rip again, Mama Hipwell informs the rip that I have Montezuma's revenge! (A white lie, I needed only to pee). The rip replies that she didn't care!

When the rip walks up the aisle, I proceed to literally jump out of my seat and leg it to the loo. No sooner was I safely inside, the intercom bellows ''Hello, Hello," this is followed by insistent knocking on the door. Needless to say, I didn't piss about (pun intended!), I had flashes of the rip opening the door from the outside dragging me out of the loo with no dignity intact! I emerged with dignity intact, to another rip waiting outside to tell me off. Well, you can imagine the earful she received from me, as I was so pissed off... that in itself is another story!

PS. Florence is truly a beautiful city, well worth a visit but choose wisely who you fly with!


Waltzer Experience © 2000-2001 Alan Wall. All images are copyright and may not be used without permission.
Wage Slave © 2000-2001 Philip Barrett.