DNUK Articles

'Skools In'

By Mike Saint

www.bjj.org.uk

DING DING!!

Right kids, skool is in!

Get your asses in here and sit down, yup, legs crossed in one big row! What? No Forbsie, you cannot go to the toilet, especially not with Mandy Moir!

KEAVEY!! Give Kev Ritchie his lunch money back you little toe rag!

Right, now, class in progress.

As it seems that every spotty little 18 year old who received his licence in the post this morning seems to think that they are a fucking expert at working the door, I feel it necessary to educate the little fuckers on at least what a good doorman should look like.

For the rest of us, this should just be purely nostalgic.

I do not wish to intentionally offend any one, but if I do it unintentionally, tough shit! All statements from here on in are purely my opinion based on my 6.5 years as a doorman (almost 4 of which as a head doorman) but in no way do I claim to be an expert, after 6.5 years I am still learning.

(If anyone wants their pic removed please contact Scottie who will do so straight away.)

There are 2 criteria to be listed in today’s lecture, 1. You must be good at your job, and 2. I must have a pic of you. So if you feel you should be included in this and you have not been, it is probably because I do not have a pic of you (or you’re a sack of shit), if you have any pics, please send them in and we can have a continuation.

Right you little pubeless clueless doorstops, pay attention, you just might learn something! (I’ve added one or two stories along the way that sprung into my mind)

Zuu

(Now Moshulu)

Yup, the club was legendary, lots of scum, fights, tarts and sticky carpets. It’s weird in a way, no one ever wanted to go and work at Zuu, but if you lasted the first night (and many didn’t) you always went back for more punishment).

I did not believe the reputation it had for underagers until some thing happened to me, but that’s another story, I’ll write an article on it, or maybe I won’t, depends how I feel. OH FUCK IT, right, it was my first week at Zuu, and I pull this fit (but slightly promiscus) young lady. After my shift she accompanies me home. Unfortunately I was staying with my good friend Danny Harrison (from Buds) for a few weeks as I was in between houses, I was wondering if he would mind me shagging in his bed-sit while he was in the room, I was sure she wouldn’t!! Any way, we get there and my good friend Danny had decided to go and visit his girlfriend in Dundee for the weekend and had locked me out. I now had to face up to not getting a shag and having no where to sleep (she lived with her parents, alarm bells should have been ringing). Anyway, this little angel suggests getting a hotel; I inform her that I am largely made of fat (24% as my new body fat monitor tells me), not money! She tells me she will pay!! Bonus!! So after making a few calls we eventually get a room at the speedbird inn at the airport. After a night of rather good sex we bid each other farewell and I head off to the Spar store in torry where I was supposed to be doing a security shift (unfortunately I ran into Coco and Nicky Cambell and all the other guys who were doing Zuu the night before, who were still drinking from the night before and were just heading into the Schooner, I was dragged along and went to work later cunted. Now, where is this leading, Almost 2 years later I was working at the Spar in Kinkorth for Ian, and who should come up but this young lady and her mother!! After introducing me to her mother and some brief chit chat the two go to enter the store, however as the shop had been having problems with the local thugs there was a notice on the door saying “No under 17’s after 8PM” the girls mother told her she would have to wait outside as she was not old enough!!! This was almost 2 years later!!! Lesson learned! Just cos she’s in a club, don’t mean she’s old enough!!!

Anyway, I got a bit off track there; here is our first mug shot. (Click the thumbnails to see bigger versions of the pics that'll appear through the rest of this story.)

The man, the legend,

Mr Brian “Don’t even think about it” Sutherland.

Head doorman of Zuu, retired nutter, former Sumerian ops manager and accountant and all round nice guy.

A former fisherman, Brian was one of those men who commanded respect, he was good at what he did and could back up anything he said. The only doorman I have ever seen who was so confident of his abilities I once saw him write down his home address for some little ned who had tried to take a pop at him before the police intervened. How many of us would do that?? Although Zuu had at least 25+ fights a weekend (think I’m exaggerating?? Ask anyone who worked there!) Fights had a mysterious habit of just stopping when Brian arrived on the scene! Above all else Brian was a gentleman; he worked the door for 27 years and knew everything there was to know.

If any of you little fuckers out there complain about you head doorman giving you too much of a hard time or giving you a really nasty bollocking, it is F.U.C.K ALL compared to what you would have got from this man!! You went to work sick even if you were fucking dying!! Fuck phoning him to tell him you weren’t going in! I once went to work the night after a car crash, and what was I greeted with? A bollocking from Brian for phoning in sick the night before, (he didn’t think a car crash was serious enough to warrant missing work, and it took me half an hour after the crash to phone him!!) And some of you fuckers have complained about me!!  Brian is now working offshore and has no plans to return to the door.

Our Loss. 

Next on the list,

Zuu’s assistant head doorman,

Kev “pretty boy” Ritchie.

 Hailing from my own home town of Hartlepool is the Kevster himself.

Now for all you who don’t know him, Kev isn’t really gay, he just stands walks, talks, looks and acts gay. But he isn’t, really. He gets really fit women a fraction of his age throwing themselves at him regularly. BUT PLEASE NOTE: If a woman asks you Kev Ritchies true age, say nothing. As we all know he is 42 but he tells the ladies he is 27. I have landed myself in the shit like that a few times!!

On the subject of Kev being gay, he likes to dress up in women’s clothes, but he isn’t gay. Really!!

Here we go, a better pic, Kev with his “tough look” on 

Next from the Zuu motley crew

Davie Laing

No, there is nothing wrong with Davie (even if that is a matter of debate). A fantastic doorman and if I had to stand back to back with some one he would defiantly be high up on the list. For some reason Davie was one of those people who always had more blood on them than anyone else at the end of the night (especially around the hands!). Davie did have a bad habit of forgetting to put his wedding ring back on the right finger before going home!

All round, a top bloke.

Next on the list from the Zuu possie!

Andy Whassisname

As you can probably gather by the pic, Andy was a bit of a tit! An all round nice guy who had more money than sense and seemed to be able to get women that were far, far out of his league! Lucky bugger!

 Now, we have, part man, part TV commercial, THE HONEY MONSTER Lewis Neilson!!

Now, only one thing can be said, HE WAS AN UGLY FUCKER WASN’T HE!

Now in this picture Lewis is doing many things! Smiling, looking nervous, trying to hold his stomach in and trying to put his knob away. You see only former Zuu employees knew about this room. It was supposed to be a staff room, but the barstaff were not allowed in, it was for doormen and tarts only! At one point we were considering putting a web cam in there and charging a quid a minute to watch!! Never really got past the discussion stage though! Anyway, this is Lewis, just after being BUSTED!!!

 Last but certainly not least on the list of Zuu’ers,

Yours truly, me!!

A rather beardless, but still handsome in a boyishly good looking sense, Mike “the main Fucking man” Saint, around 4 years ago. Just over my right shoulder you will see a common occurrence, Kev Ritchie hiding behind me! Happened a lot!! 

A bit sick, but I have been doing a few shifts at Moshulu recently, and the back fire exit is still covered in the blood from the last night of Zuu. Over 3 years ago!! (Those who were there know what happened, “nuff said!).

The Cotton Club

(Formerly a nice place!)

 Our next classy establishment is The Cotton Club.

Now I’m not actually being sarcastic, although the Cotton Club now is still classy compared to Zuu, The Cotton Club believe it or not used to be a nice place when it was owned by Stuart Clarkson, it had good management, staff and customers, it was always busy and we made money scamming the admission from the back gate (which was closed after midnight, you were supposed to go to the Union Street door, or slip the doorman a fiver, your choice!).

 My days at The Cotton Club will always be held in high regard as this is where I met the love of my life and the woman I am still with today.

 First on the list,

Davie “Sponsored by Vaseline” Ross.

Head Doorman of The Cotton Club, now head doorman of Paramount. Good at what he does and stands up (or walks off) for what he believes in!

Now, contrary to what you may think by looking at this picture, Davie does not actually have Down Syndrome.

He is just really happy that the gay bloke behind him just gave him his phone number. You could do a lot worse than pay attention to what this man has to teach.

Next on the Cotton Club guest list, is the one, the only,

MR Lee “Chef” Rhapasi!!!

Lee was one of those blokes who was liked by EVERYONE. He earned and held your respect with very little effort, he would help any one out and the man had balls of steel.

OK, lending him money could not be described as the safest financial investment in the world, and the man did openly admit that he drank cow’s blood. Lee started off as a doorman and then became a manager of Bardots and the Cotton Club. What always used to make me laugh about Lee was that he hated people pulling the race card and expecting special treatment, if another African would try to persuade his “brother” to let him in after Lee had said no, you should have seen the sparks fly! Another thing that could be said about Lee! The man could drink! He carried me home on more than one occasion!! (No discretion, the fucker tells everyone when he does it too!). It took me months to get him to sing “Suck on my chocolate salty balls” on the karaoke, but being the good sport he is, he did it, just for me, and I piss myself laughing every time I think of it!

We all know how sound Lee was, but as most of us know his visa was not, and the immigration dept really did not give a fuck how nice a guy Lee was, he was deported back to Kenya. I have tried to track Lee down (cos he owes me money) but I was unsuccessful. Rest in peace homie.

Also in this pic you will see a young Mr Martin Tremlin from liquid. If my memory serves me correctly “Tremlin the Gremlin” had only been working the door 2 weeks when this pic was taken. Isn’t he cute??? (no). 

Another addition to the Cotton Club team was Simon Maryann.

(No idea who the bloke on the right is).

Now although Simon was not with us for long, he was competent and a nice guy. The reason I list him is cos a few years ago I was watching a program on one of those dodgy cable channels where they go to different cities and pick a girl/guy then go and try to get him or her a date. Some bird pointed out Simon, and on television Simon said he would not go out with her cos she was ugly.

How to win friends and influence people in one easy lesson!

Moving on we arrive at Mr Andy Lynne, (On the left)

Now Andy was one of those guys who made you fucking sick! He had a good job with Baker Hughes during the day, worked as a doorman and a stripper just for the hell of it. Drove an MR2 and could have any women he wanted, he just had to pick them up off the floor, they were usually around his feet. And as much as you tried to hate the perfectly tanned, pearly smiled little fucker, you couldn’t, the guy was too nice! On one night out the man wore leather jeans, a skin tight purple velvet top and a full length zebra skin coat, and the fucker still looked good, this is the kind of bloke he was!

Richard “Cadburys” Cox

The fireman who had never put out a fire should be in here, but I don’t have a pick, he’s no where to be seen, there must have been a fight when the pics were taken.

 Now, you may ask why I raise the issue of Richard Cox when I don’t have a pic of him, (you may feel a story coming on). One night, myself, Andy Lynne and Richard Cox were on the back door of the Cotton Club, two young ladies (who were obviously only interested in Andy and were just humouring me and Richard) were telling us all about there bondage and fetish equipment. We thought they were speaking shite, and tried to call there bluff. This is what they had wanted and invited us back to there’s after work so they could prove it. Now Andy was seeing Richards ex so there were going to be no secrets kept, even though Andy couldn’t go, me and Richard did! When we got there you can imagine there disappointment at the two ugly blokes turning up instead of the good looking one! Well we get shown into their bedroom which is just wall to wall with wardrobes, when all the doors were opened this place became a real proper dungeon, these bitches had everything!!! Whips, chains, paddles, cuffs, restraints, sex toys, EVERYTHING! Now although me and Richard did not get a shag that night, we were introduced to the world of BDSM, and these ladies did put on quite a show for us! It got a bit wrong when Richard was eating melted chocolate of a girls leg, which escalated to him eating a Cadburys cream egg out of the girls arse! (I still piss myself when I see those “ How do you eat yours” adverts! How do I know he did this? Cos he did it right in front of me!! I couldn’t fucking believe it!!)

Now when we left the dungeon myself and Richard shook hands and made a solemn vow that what happened that evening would never be repeated. I am sorry to say I did not hold my end of the bargin and ran into work the next day and told EVERYONE! Sizzlers were sending eggs over with “This way up” written on them, it even got back to the fire station where he worked! Needless to say, he never forgave me, or lived it down!!

In our next pic we can see Mr Bassey Nikana being his usual happy self, whilst Davie Taylor (with his back turned to the camera) is out on the piss with his drinking buddy!! 

I remember one Tuesday night working in Bardots (this is when Bardots closed at 23:00 during the week).

Myself and Mr Rhapasi were working the front door when 3 young looking but very attractive ladies came up the drive. I asked them for ID, two were ok about it but one took real offence, I mean real offence!! She was being so stroppy I almost didn’t let the cheeky little pert titted blondie in! But they were all student nurses and had ID. Later that night little Miss Stroppy comes back over to see me, being very friendly and a little flirtatious! She said that her and her friends were going to Bex to dance, but they would be back to see me, and if they were not back in time I should go up to Bex to see them!! WHOO HOO! So as soon as closing time comes the bar is cleared in record time and I shoot up to Bex! Now I had recently been sacked and VERY banned from Bex (but that’s another story) but the gods were on my side and I go in! Now as soon as my eyes meet this little angels we connect! After some brief chit chat we are tongue wrestling! She then asks if I want to go anywhere else, I ask where and she replies my place!! Even better! Back to mine we go, we’re getting our groove one, butt necked, on the bed, just about to give her the Mike special when she says “wait” she jumps up, gets dressed as quick as a flash, and what’s the last thing she says before going out the door??? “I can’t believe you ID’d me! Hehehe” FUCKING BITCH! Was that a bit excessive or what? And of course I made the big mistake of telling the guys I worked with at the time; they never let me forget it!

A Cotton Club tradition was that everyone got dunked on their birthday, EVERYONE!!!

The Cotton Club was a real team, not one of these fucking half arse jobs you see nowadays. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the night that Big John kicked off and went nuts and started trashing the place and Pocket Rocket, Geordie Sean, Myself, Lee Rhapasi, Andy Lynn and Richard Cox were given the unfortunate task of trying to take him down. As you can imagine, we were unsuccessful, but at least we tried!!

 The Cotton Club was a quality establishment in its day, now I think calling it an establishment would be an over statement. I think it’s odd that you here of so many fights in the Cotton Club nowadays; do you want to know why these didn’t happen before? Cos it had a bloody good door team who didn’t let the fights happen!

 Another snap shot from the Cotton Club, Pat Jopp, Geordie Sean, Tremlin the Gremlin, and myself. And I am very well aware that I looked like a complete tit that night and do not need anyone pointing it out thank you very much!!

Mr Vincent Adegbotulu

(You try fitting that name on a Sumerian Rota!)

(Yes, he does have his hand on that girl’s tit!!).

A fantastic but short tempered Nigerian. Great with the ladies and a naturally humble person. Although one night at Moshulu he did pick someone up by the back of the neck and throw him into the floor, he did this because the boy had called me “stupid”!! Not cunt, fat English wanker, baldie poof, nothing! Just Stupid! I think Vinnie must have liked me!

Vinnie is now making mega bucks in the oil industry and has recently married a girl in Nigeria. I hope you’re very happy together bud and wish you all the best in the future.

 Although I do not have a pic, this line up would not be complete without a mention for

 Mr Paul “You’re a cunt” Green, (Pictured beside Lisa Mafia from 'So Solid Crew')

Head doorman of Moshulu (all be it for one night!, Cotton Club and Paramount).

Often outspoken, loved by few, hated by most, called all cunts at some point, our very own Paul Green. Paul Might seem outspoken, but this is only because he has a condition which does not allow him to have an opinion and keep it to himself! Talks too much, but his hearts in the right place.

When asked my own opinions of Paul I have to refer to a story. I was head of Yates’s, after refusing a bloke admission I took my eyes off him just long enough for him to hit me in the face with a bottle, I grabbed him but as I was concussed he managed to hit me with the bottle again, I fell to the floor where he followed to gouge me eyes and to punch my head off of the floor repeatedly. Wedged between a car and the kerb I had no punching room at all and just kept hurting my self every time I tried to hit the fucker. When I managed to push the bloke back he sunk his teeth into my chest, despite me punching shit out of him and sinking my thumb in his eye, he was not letting go, and blood was pissing from my chest. The team I was working with were sacks of shit, and after failing to get this bloke off of me they practically gave up, thankfully someone hit the panic alarm and the guys from paramount came round, Paul was there first and I think Pocket Rocket was there too, if they hadn’t have came round I would have been injured a lot more seriously than I already was. (And if my memory serves me correctly, I think Paul used a choke to restrain the bloke who had just been sucking my blood, maybe we should ask Stephen if these circumstances were bad enough to warrant using a choke??). I’m not sure if I ever thanked the guys from Paramount for helping me out that night, but if not, I’m saying it now, THANK YOU. So yeah, Paul Green is a cunt but he stopped me from getting seriously fucked up one night so he’s alright. But I’m not sure about the time he decided we were going to restrain some one for punching out one of the little glass panels on the door of Mosulu, we had to chase the guy to Golden fucking Square (I smoked a lot at the time, and I was fucked!) struggle with him, and bring him back to the club! Now how many of you have crossed Union Street with some one in a choke?? I haven’t, but Paul has! (But don’t tell Stephan!).

 Chris “Yer Ma” Forbes

Head doorman of Bex Bar.

Now, If you ask Chris about his obsession with fat women, he will honestly take the time and effort to explain why he is doing the rest of the male population a huge favour. His theory is that if he knobs all the munters the rest of us won’t have to! It’s nothing to do with the fact that the man just has a fetish for fat sweaty munters!! (I think he’s had one too many hand slaps from Scottie to the back of the head!). Chris is not backward in coming forward and will ask anyone to show him there tits!

I can remember one occasion back in the middles ages when myself and Chris were working the door of Hullabaloo, after a potentially nasty stand off with a football team, Chris decides he is bored and wants the situation over a bit quicker than it would be if it were to end on it’s own, so he does what any good Kinkorth lad would do and attacks one of them!! (We were outnumbered 8 to 2, how the fuck we survived that one I will never know!).

 But to show Chris’s true claim to fame the following 3 paragraphs are nicked without permission from some Scottish football site or other…

  Chris also goes by the nickname, 'Mofo'.  And there is an interesting story of how he came about it, which we'll now tell you a condensed version of.  Our story takes place in January 2002, where we find our hero in a young ladies flat here in Aberdeen.  After having talked his way into receiving oral pleasures from this impressionable young lady, (For the sake of story telling, and to protect the innocent, we'll call her.. 'Sheila') Forbes then asked if she would mind if he went through the house and 'tried it on' with Sheila's mother.  The girl was taken aback, and said 'ok', thinking the infamous Forbes was only having a laugh with her.  Well, before you could say, 'snapping knicker elastic', Forbes had dashed through the house and had begun laying on the smooth lines to the young lady's mother.

About half an hour passed with no sign of Forbes returning to Sheila's bedroom, and the young lady grew worried over what was happening down the hall.  Before she could get off her arse to go and check on her mother's condition, Mofo barged into the room.  Still uncleansed after having soiled Sheila's mother shortly before, he went on to complain to the young lady that her mother had been particularly rough, and that he thought she was closing to snapping his John Thomas. 

We've always wondered what went through young Sheila's head as the smiling Forbes, (who had not only had his evil way with her, but had also taken it upon himself to despoil her mother) gathered his stuff together and left the house into the darkness, waving cheerily as he disappeared into the night....

 Scott “Big Scottie” Taylor

Security Manager for PB Developments

Scott has been called many things over the years, ('Hagrid', 'Sully', and Inbred.. Mostly by me!). Has a habit of shouting “Who da hell are you” or “What the hell are you” to random pedestrians and the man has no shame. We all know the accident that happened to “Little Scottie” (He got his todger caught in his zip, so badly he needed stitches). But being the good sport Scottie is, and wanting the slagging to be over with as quick as possible, Scottie told everyone about this, everyone who would listen, even posted it on the net, then went as far as to send every one a pic of the injured member. Now you really have to meet Scottie to appreciate how big he is, especially his hands. But unfortunately in the pic his thumb appears to be around 3 times the size of his penis, I still wonder why he sent everyone that pic!

Scottie may have the appearance of a grizzly bear, the heart of a mountain lion and the breath of a dragon (and the beard from Shaggy from Scoobie doo) but he truly is a gentleman among men, bless all 12 of his little inbred highland toes!

There are many more men who should be in this hall of fame but are not, purely cos they are not good enough to be! Lol, only joking, I’m not going to write a list of names as I would be here all day, I would like to say a few words about Ben Keavey, but I can honestly say I cannot think of a single thing to say that could not potentially end in criminal charges being pressed!

 Right then you little Shitbags, I hope this goes to show you little pre pubescent nappy scratchers that you haven’t been there, you haven’t done it; you do not own the T shirt and have not worn the cap! And until you have, your opinion means fuck all, so keep it to yourselves. When you have the knowledge and the experience to make comments or derogatory remarks, come back and do it, but if you do call yourselves doormen show some balls and take it to the persons face. Before you say you can’t cos the fucker lives 200 miles away and you know nothing about him and do not know what he looks like, then you shouldn’t be insulting the man in the first place!!

 I have deliberately left out the stories of fights because A. I don’t think that they are very funny and I wanted to keep this light hearted (Ok, I can think of a few funny ones) and B I didn’t want to be condemned as a “wanker” cos I once nailed someone who was sinking his teeth into my chest! (I later put this one in, only to give some one else credit for saving my sorry ass) Or Stomped on someone after I witnessed him break a girls nose, or choked someone out because he came at me with a bottle when I tried to stop him hurting some one half his size. And on top of that WE ALL KNOW I’M A WANKER ANYWAY!!!

 Class Dismissed.

Mike

P.S I added this pic from Ministry.

Poor innocent naive Rebecca honestly thought it was my radio digging into her hip! Silly girl!

Mike Saint.