Saturday night and the world's going out on the town, two hours in make-up, sirens and screams and, lo! a shaved-headed youth smashes a bottle and stumbles obscenities like they're the only words he knows. Apocalypse now? Could be - now, and next week, and every week thereafter. I can't for the life of me see the appeal in this; there's not a stitch in my trousers thinks to do all the dolling up and drinking the booze and hitting the scene. What a peculiar scene! What an unorthodox zombie parade! What a strange, strange world!
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