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The Langers Forum
The Sultans of Ping F.C.
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<blockquote data-quote="Jim Comic" data-source="post: 6286535" data-attributes="member: 1585"><p>My band slogged up and down the UK with Blur and Radiohead and hung out in hotel foyers until 4am. We supported Irish pop punks Sultans of Ping: their singer preened around the stage, looking like a hungry, raggedy hyena. He was in shiny, cerise-pink Lycra leggings, bare chest, thrusting his groin forcefully into the audience, licking his great big Jagger lips. He scowled at the audience and screamed: “Dancing in the disco, bumper to bumper.”</p><p></p><p>In the hotel with the Sultans post-gig, we drained the tequila supplies. I pulled out my childhood Irish dance skills, and careered off round the hotel lobby doing a high-kicking hornpipe to the cheers of a band of sweaty Sultans. I had been feeling so much the young uncool little sister that I was high on their approval. I danced faster, wilder, to the cries of “C’moan, dancing queen!” in thick Cork accents.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Jim Comic, post: 6286535, member: 1585"] My band slogged up and down the UK with Blur and Radiohead and hung out in hotel foyers until 4am. We supported Irish pop punks Sultans of Ping: their singer preened around the stage, looking like a hungry, raggedy hyena. He was in shiny, cerise-pink Lycra leggings, bare chest, thrusting his groin forcefully into the audience, licking his great big Jagger lips. He scowled at the audience and screamed: “Dancing in the disco, bumper to bumper.” In the hotel with the Sultans post-gig, we drained the tequila supplies. I pulled out my childhood Irish dance skills, and careered off round the hotel lobby doing a high-kicking hornpipe to the cheers of a band of sweaty Sultans. I had been feeling so much the young uncool little sister that I was high on their approval. I danced faster, wilder, to the cries of “C’moan, dancing queen!” in thick Cork accents. [/QUOTE]
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