Shortie Ent & Cpopmusic.co.uk
brings you…
Cpopmusic.co.uk
@
Seone
13th January 2007
10.00PM-3.00AM
DJ’s spinning the finest urban cutz will be
Shorty.p
IC5
Noka
DJ Freaky
DJ Phat
DJ Nibler
TICKETS
£10 IN ADVANCE
£15 VIP
£15 ON THE DOOR
ticket hotline-07957 577 620
DRESS CODE: SMART CASUAL
OVER 18S ONLY- ID WILL BE REQUIRED
www.shortieent.com
www.partypromo.co.uk
www.cpopmusic.co.uk
www.kpopmusic.co.uk
Last week the government announced the latest figures showing the number of homeless people in Britain. And they don’t make any sense.
No, really. The report says that from April to June of this year 19,430 households applied to their local councils and were accepted as being homeless. I don’t understand. How can you be a “householder” and be homeless? To find out I turned to Shelter, the housing charity, which says there are 130,000 homeless children in Britain. No there aren’t. I travel a great deal, often to the north, and I’ve never once seen a homeless child.
The only homeless people I ever see are rather frightening looking Scottish men who prowl the streets of Soho with their angry dogs begging for money. “Eat the dog. Then we’ll talk,” is what I always say.
I don’t want to belittle homelessness. I understand that it must be very scary to find yourself with no friends, no family and nowhere to stay. I think often about how terrible that moment must be when you realise, for the first time, that you really have no bed that night. It sends a shudder down my spine.
Think about it. Slipping into a pair of cardboard pyjamas and being serenaded to sleep by passing trains, knowing that the price you pay for a mug of soup is a half-hour lecture on God’s infinite wisdom.
In fact, it’s because I care so much about homeless people that I have some advice for anyone whose life has gone so far down the crapper that he’s only reading this newspaper because he’s sleeping in it. And here it is. Move out of London and into the countryside.
If you hole up for the night in a shop doorway in London, those street cleaner men will come along and squirt you with powerful jets of icy water.
And then, when you’re all soggy and cold, you’ll be moved on to another doorway where a drunken late-night reveller will be sick over you. Then your dog will be stolen by a Romanian woman in a shawl, and then someone will make you take so much heroin that you technically become an Afghan.
And to make matters worse you’ll spend your days scouring the city streets for out-of-date sandwiches, while stinking, and all the while you’ll be surrounded by Jade Moss and Judy Law, who will be popping out to the shops because there’s no more room in their houses for any more of their money.
Genuinely I don’t understand why people who’ve lost their homes think that all will be well if they stow away on a train to London. And nor do I understand why people who were in London to start with don’t move out the moment they realise that it’s 10.30pm and that they don’t have anywhere to stay.
London, when you have money, and a job and friends is truly one of the greatest places on earth. But the capital when you have nothing must be more depressing than listening to Leonard Cohen from the wrong side of a cocaine high.
In the countryside things are a lot more cheery. For a kick-off the chances of being turned into a rent boy are smaller. There is also less heroin, and if you sleep in a field the chances of a late-night reveller being sick all over you are very small indeed.
What’s more, food simply isn’t an issue. I spent most of last week working in a rural part of Warwickshire and couldn’t believe how much there was to eat in the hedgerows. Blackberries, elderberries and what I thought was a tomato. It wasn’t.
In fact, if you do move to the countryside, avoid any small red plant that grows in hedgerows and looks like a tomato because it’s disgusting: instead, try truffling in the fields.
In one I found several thousand potatoes, and in another, right outside someone’s kitchen window, I found carrots and marrows. There were even some nearby cows that could easily be killed and eaten.
Then there’s the question of clothing. In a big city like London it matters what you wear because people are looking. You have to steal the right kind of Nike trainer, for instance. Whereas in the countryside there isn’t anyone around for miles, so you can keep warm in fertiliser bags, which can be held together with baler twine.
The news is good too when the sun sinks because you don’t have to hole up under a railway bridge. There are countless stables full of straw and, I’m told, it’s still — just — possible to find a barn that hasn’t yet been converted into an agreeable home by someone called Nigel.
Not only would living rough in the countryside be infinitely better than living rough in London but I’d go so far as to suggest it might even be fun. Not as much fun as, say, being the Queen, but certainly not bad. You could make traps and watch birds and make dens and it’d be like being nine.
In fact, come to think of it, I’m rather surprised that the countryside isn’t awash with tramps, but in the 12 years I’ve lived out here, I haven’t seen one. There’s a bloke who sells The Big Issue in a nearby town. But I think I saw him the other day in a BMW, and sleeping in that doesn’t count.
EOS @ SeOne London
Saturday October 14th 2006
with DKNC Event Management and KPop Promo
Join us in our End of Season Party
Time: 10pm til 4am
Music: RnB, Hip Hop and Old Skool
DJ: DSD , Kofi, DJ Pates and DJ @if ( RHUL )
Dress Code: Smart and Sexy (Clean Trainers
Allowed)
Over 18’s Only (Passport or Driving license may be
required)
Rights of admission reserved
Address: Weston St, under london bridge stn,
SE1.
£10 Advance or £15 on the door
For more info: http://dknc.co.uk or
http://www.partypromo.co.uk
Email: info@dknc.co.uk or
sales@partypromo.co.uk
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