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"The August Bank Holiday heralded a torrent of social excess in Dublin which would require weeks of recounting so I'll contain myself to the Leather and Denim Night on Thursday 4th August, a joint effort between The Parliament Inn and Hooray Henries. Well my trolls, I was simple stunned by the sleazy little bar and dance floor at the top of the Parliament Inn. A veritable den of zoological life, it was. Wonderful cut-outs of beefy men were stuck on the walls and in most cases outshone the real ""cut-outs"" moving abut the place. Large chains and ropes hung fro the ceiling and the men who were hung . . . well I hung around them, naturally. There was some well-worn leather to distract me fro the dreadful music. Who was that awful DJ? He insisted on playing utterly frantic music which simply didn't gel with the raunchy night and decor. The boys in black and blue clearly voted with their feet and remained off the dance floor. The space has great potential and I understand from the Management that a Leather and Denim Night will be held every second Thursday. Worth checking out but do dress down. Apart from the DJ I only had one other quibble. Noel and Co.should get rid of the carpet and go for a rough, minimalist decor. They're sitting on a goldmine . . . once they get it right. Continuing the raunchy splendour of the evening I hiked up to Hooray Henries at the Powerscourt Townhouse Centre (Sth. William Street). I rang the bell and was simply fucked of the spot by an incredible beaut of a doorman, name of Reze. He was to die for, honestly. My darlings of taste, we're talking major orgasm assault here. Reze was lashed out in a dinner box leather jock-strap bulging out of his very torn, very faded 501's, a Levis jacket and a hefty piece of leather on his chest, crowned by a pure and classicaly refined face. I felt like St. Theresa being pierced with the arrow of ecstasy (the didn’t have any drugs in those days). Staggering inside, I surveyed the crowd. I wasn't as busy as I expected and not much leather and denim insight but what was there was admirably dressed down. Manager Eugene was on the trot all night looking after his flock. I must tell you I received the most courteous and thoughtful attention from my host and his staff, Reze and John. Albert O' was playing records and although he couldn't mix for nuts the selection of music was enjoyable - I began to feel rather maudlin at some of the 70's dance/sleaze anthems which massaged my bod throughout the night. All in all a wonderful nights entertainment of which there will undoubtedly be more. They do need to get the finger out regarding publicity to ensure the place is swimming in sweaty bodies next time. And on that salacious thought I bid you slan. Who said anything about the Dublin Street Carnival? TEXT AND PHOTOS BLONDIE BOMBSHELL."