23 12 2009

It was dark.

It was crowded.

The people were anxious. The men in suits were calm.

You stand in front of a night club…any night club, and you are bound to encounter this scenario. It took you the better part of 2 hours to decide whether or not to wear your new Aldo Plimsols, and now you stand waiting in line; surrounded by shitheads, to get into the club. Thoughts race through your head. Is this even worth it? Why not try the one down the street? Is my crotch itchy? Apart from the last one anyway, you’re a bit flustered. The idea of shelling out a big wad of cash for what might be a night of badly brewed alcohol and ‘well endowed’ women would make even the most seasoned player anxious. Then..without warning…there is the Unce.

Yes…the Unce.

You heard it right…Unce.

If you played the video above…you’d know what Unce is, was, and will ever be.

For the more literary minded (including those Shakespeare reading sick-fucks), the term Unce can be defined as follows:

Unce: nounthe beat to nearly all techno, trance and/or house music tracks, most commonly played in night clubs and discotheques

Quite shocking…isnt it?

It Gets You at the Best of Times

It hits you.

You are standing, simply standing, in the queue…to possibly enjoy a cold drink with the boys, possibly stare at mildly attractive females, or get drunk and pass out in a gutter. Whatever the case may be, when it hits you, it hits you hard.

It is sentient. You can feel it through you. It is all consuming.

That repetitive: unce unce unce unce unce

Primal instincts take over. You have to get into the club.

unce unce unce unce unce

You might have to assault, steal or murder your way in…but you will do it.

unce unce unce unce unce

You want to make love to it. You want unce to have your babies.

unce unce unce unce unce

It completes you.

unce unce unce unce unce


Possible Cure?

Maybe…Maybe not…but until then




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