If you know someone who occasionally reads this website, maybe they check it when they've been to an event or perhaps had intended to go to one, but missed it for some reason and so peeps the site to see what they missed out on. Either way, if you know this person and they have NOT come steaming towards this event the very second it went online then they have a problem. A reasonably serious problem... but their problem, even when compounded with the myriad issues of simply being a human being, are NOTHING in comparison to the personal problems faced each and every single day by the man who should have attracted them to this page in the first place.

If none of that made any sense, then let me just sum it up like this.

Hoss is back.

Hoss ‘The Gilbs’ Gilbert; Ladies Call Him ‘The Gilbs’ has featured in several events on this here website, and despite not even living in London [he lives with his Mum in Underwood, Nottinghamshire] he's probably been out more times than the majority of members. Actually, just click here and go read Gazz Edition - Christmas Eve and John the Juggs’ 40th. It's alright... I'll wait.








So now you know all about Hoss.

If you were too fucking cynical to actually go and read those events and just scrolled down a bit to see where all this was going, firstly Fuck You, and secondly here is some background history.

Hoss Gilbert is 27 years old, currently works at Grangers [a lab in which they manufacture water proofing chemicals and in which Hoss has worked for about 10 years] and goes out with a girl called Lu who he doesn't like and doesn't like him either. He goes out most nights with Slloyd and Dames [see Dames at Communist Party event] to the pub down the road. Hoss doesn't like Slloyd, or Dames, and they don't like him either, but they do all live very close so it's easy to be friends. Hoss owes thousands of pounds in debts as a result of a Computeach course that he will neither attend nor cancel, and to combat all of this misery he drinks himself into oblivion damn near every day.

But on the upside...

Invite Hoss to a social gathering and you automatically render said gathering a million times better.

We had a house party, which was shit, until Hoss put his ore in and then it was amazing! A guy got his jaw broken for fucksakes!

So, to the point.

Hoss [and to a lesser extent Dames] sheened down to London for the weekend. Hoss was down because he'd booked to see Michael Jackson at the O2 [unlucky] and still had the hotel reservation with his awful girlfriend and some of her equally terrible and bland friends. Dames was down because Hoss was down and he doesn't know anyone else really.

The day begins with a quick shufty on 4 Player Ultimate Bell End Mode Mario Wii [which is as amazing as it sounds] and then on to the Power Hour as is our wont. Except this time it was my Power Hour! Yes it took me a whole fucking week to edit and even longer to source the songs, but I presented on this very day a Power Hour of my own design. New Rules, New Tracks, New Paradigm!

And they shit all over it.

Immediately the lack of its signature "Drink The Beer" transition caused a rumbling from the crowd. I'd replaced it with a Jay and Silent Bob sting. They were less than happy. It lasted 10 minutes before we just switched it off and reverted back to the original Nick based Power Hour. I was crestfallen, but not to be defeated!

We belted through the Power Hour, during which time it was decided that TheWorm was NOT the greatest Hoss in the world... No... he was just a tribute.

Then off to our standard Soho Sam Smith's Crawl, beginning with The Glasshouse, when we decided in Kangaroo Court that James and Hoss would have their own separate Round system, since James drinks Cider [£9.87 a pint] and Hoss drinks 3 pints in the time it takes for a normal man to drink 1.

We started to stagnate somewhat around The White Horse area, after an old man mistook us for Men and enquired about the football results, so a game of 21s was attempted. Sadly Hoss was pretty worse for ware at this point so he forgot the rules almost every time. Even a rule he instigated. Actually that was the rope we hung him from. He changed ‘1’ to ‘1 To My Left’, so you'd have to say ‘1 to my left to my left’ if you wanted to play the game to the left. Except Hoss forgot this every time and, when you fuck up a rule, you have to drink and also start the game again... but when he started the game he got the rule wrong so he had to drink... and so on and so on forever. You're not allowed to recap the rules either, so we couldn't even tell him why this was happening to him and set him on the way to redemption.

Eventually he'd had enough, and we found ourselves in the presence of Mardy Hoss, a man not to be trifled with.

As soon as Mardy Hoss makes an appearance the night is damn near over, and once in KFC we put a stop to it all together.

Hoss' night ended shirtless [Hoss hates clothes] playing Mario Wii, drinking a can of Heineken even though the night was over.

Like I said. He's got problems.