The Manor club
where my 16/17 year old self frequented every Friday religiously. After the downing of Smirnoff Ice by the statue that always has a cone on its head, my friends and I would queue up, heads held high to mask the fear that we would get asked for ID (Pretty rare-they didnt give a shit) and upon entering would order copious amounts of neon coloured booze with straws in.

Being the only alternative place around and somewhere that the bouncers would turn a blind eye to my bug eyed, scrawny and blatantly underage self; it was something of a haven to me. Though I look at it through rose tinted specs now, it must be said that it was a bit of a dive.

As soon as you entered you were met with a sweaty mass of body odor and cigarette smoke coupled with questionable metal/rock music. We would always get pissed and some of my friends went through a phase of walking around in their bras (I never did that; I'm a Goddamn prude really) and we all took part in heavy petting in the various dark, dank, sweaty heaving corners of the club. All kinds of shit happened there, sometimes even on the less discreet podiums.

A friend and I went a good few years ago at a time when we really should have known better (IE we were both legally allowed in). She was going through a bit of a hedonistic phase and we spent the evening getting off (Ugh, sorry to use that expression) with various gentlemen (Thank God for low lighting), mainly because Sally, as we shall call her, was pushing my face against any random chap who happened to walk past (honest guv).

Sally eventually ends up swapping saliva with a fellow for longer than 3 minutes and they wonder off to a secluded area leaving me to waddle aimlessly and vodka induced around and around, passing them occasionally to see that they are still getting hot and heavy. Hmm. After circling the club endlessly like some drunken spack-tard, Sally finally escapes the dank corner and greets me with a lurid grin and a suspicious transluscent stain on her skirt that she is POINTING out to me like some kind of medal.

Yes folks she wanked off some random in a club who came on her skirt. It probably looked like that scene from the Inbetweeners, including the underage audience. The skirt, after (I hope) many a wash would become known as the 'Cum-skirt' or 'C-Skirt' when in public.

Upon reading the other entries (and what most people get up to in the Manor) this is quaint, Victorian dross, but its the only thing I can think of as I have obviously not been that sexually adventurous in my life. So there.

Edit: Did give a hummer a club toilet once. Its just wrong.
(Eldoofus, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 20:39, 7 replies)

I remember!
Oh, The Manor Club... many a drunken night was spent there. If only I had known then that it was a shithole.

It became a ritual after a while on a Friday to do what was known as PMT........

Post, Manor, Tap! and yes the cone was always on the head of the statue.
(Magical Trevor's cloak, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 21:28, closed)

Thought so
Chathamites
(Pill Popper Thank you Sasha Shulgin, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 2:24, closed)

I wonder
who the statue depicts? Whoever it is, he has totally lost his dignity. Poor guy.

Yep PMT is good, used to go to the Command House too, or 'mand ho' as we used to call it before it was refurbished and replaced the missing letters outside.
(Eldoofus, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 12:23, closed)

I always thought
It was Will Adams? Might be wrong though.

I walked past it God knows how many times on my way back from school, but it's been so long now that memory is cloudy on who the blood hell he is.

It's true though, I think he always had a traffic cone.
(Kitimariana, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 14:17, closed)

Was about to ask...
That's the Manor Club up by Fort Pitt, isn't it? Went there once when my usual haunt was shut for some reason. Think I lasted a couple of hours before getting the arse and getting our of Dodge. Preferred the Tap & Tin really. Or the old Subsonic over in Gillingham (ah, Subs!).

I'd like to add that I was never responsible for any of the cones that ended up on the statues' head.

I may have given him a Tesco's carrier bag once though. :(
(Kitimariana, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 14:15, closed)

Poor guy
Next time I'm back in Chatham *shudders* I'll maybe check him out properly and see who it is. On reflection it probably is Will Adams, I can't think who else it could be.

Oo er, you didn't go to St John Fisher did you?
(Eldoofus, Tue 28 Apr 2009, 16:12, closed)

Nope...
Fort Pitt. I'm not sure if that's better or worse though. Left in about 1994. Tried not to go back to Chatham since. :)
(Kitimariana, Wed 29 Apr 2009, 17:35, closed)