I’m sorry, Mr President. Only the clubbers of the week can save us now

They’re a ragtag band of misfits, united by their love of the lash


Every week, the clubbers of the British Isles gather in a holy pilgrimage to the dingiest party pits of the UK – they’ve been doing it since before alcopops were invented, and they’ll be doing it right up until the inevitable heat death of the universe.

And even if you can’t be with them on those sweaty dancefloors, every week we endeavour to provide you with the next best thing. Here are the best clubbers in the UK over the last seven days. Yeah, you’re welcome.

Best Pablo Escobar lookalike

Geniuses are always branded as crazy

Bass fisherman of the week

No, not her, the guy in the background

Who are you calling a cotton-headed ninnymuggins?


That guy in the background has just thrown a pint of his own piss

Now to reap the consequences

Tell us which light is hurting your eyes Jamie

Don’t worry young man we’ll turn it off for you

Are you saying my curls aren’t voluminous enough?

Do you know how much argan oil costs these days?

They said they’d be here they said

They said in the corner

Turns out Nemo was just on a three-week bender the whole time

Look at those fucking pupils

BONUS ROUND: Blokes in Glasgow doing lame hand signals

 These two actually fucking hate each other

Literally just look at their facial expressions

Me when the meal deal includes Thai sweet chicken McCoys


When you see your mate getting in a taxi with a fittie

Text me after bud

Yeah you’re not getting served guys

Or you’re just really short

When the DJ puts on Cruz Beckham’s Christmas single

Maaaaaaate certified banger

This guy in a fucking SANTA HAT just tried to get with me

There’s a boundary, and there’s respect

Oops, you have to shag this guy now

Tbf he’s an excellent big spoon

Haha what did he just say to me?

Haha swear down I will slaughter him and play around in his blood

Can you Photoshop us into a better club?

Omg do you know Mahiki? Photoshop us into Mahiki