Being a DJ is likely one of the best possible vocations a human can achieve. You’re paid to make people dance, right? But these people are usually drunk and awful. Here are their dispatches from the dance floor.
LA DJ Mick Fiction started his Tumblr, No Breasts No Requests, to document the tireless efforts of shit-faced dancers to get their favourite Usher song played, and the constant struggle the DJ pushes back. Play Lady Gaga! Don’t touch my equipment! Play Lady Gaga! And so it goes. [via MetaFilter]
As do I. As does everyone. Does this need to be put in writing? Such sad writing.
This places must have had some bad experiences with guest DJs if it felt the need to ask you to treat hardware like the woman who birthed you.
This place takes a far less courteous stance on the “don’t mess with the equipment” position. Where are there stairs? This club sounds dangerous.
My German is a little rusty since college, but I think I understand the gist of what the DJ’s trying to say here. Tip well!
We should all be able to agree on this. WEARING SUNGLASSES INDOORS MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID. This goes for DJs too!
Does this count as a request?
Two things here: isn’t your GF’s BF… you? Is there some sort of polyamorous setup here? And can it really be fixed with autotuned Lil Wayne?
Oh boy! The Table of Cool People. Well, time to burn this club down. Like with fire, not fun music. Like literally destroy the club.
OK, this place is the worst.
Or is this place the worst? I still think I’d take making out of nukes.
Straight, to the point, technologically accurate. I dig it!