No, you'll just have to join me and find out at my...
Yes, come celebrate the day that will henceforth be known as Duncanmass! Come shelter from the rampaging hosts of fiery angels unleashed upon the earth by the vengeful tyrant, the Great White God, or as I likes to call him, Moby Douche! Come join me in defying the very End of Days!
The heavens may be rolled away, the earth may open up, but we will still be partying, and God help any arselicking archangel who tries to stop us.
There will be sounds! There will be booze! And you know what? If that star called Wormwood really does fall from heaven and turn a third of the waters bitter... there will be free absinthe on tap!
OK, I can't actually promise the last, but I'll be fucking disappointed if Old Nobodaddy doesn't live up to that particular prophecy. Threat? Pshaw! I call that a fucking promise! At very least I want some wine of the wrath of the Lord... a nice red, maybe a Rioja. Cause Rioja's always nice.
So when is it?
57-59 Sauchiehall Lane, Glasgow
Come ye and be saved from the fury of the petulant brat deity*. If there's enough of us, we can hold off the heavenly host through the Rapture, the Tribulation and the descent of New Jerusalem from the skies. And then we take the motherfucking Kingdom.
Oh, and if anyone has a trebuchet? Bring it, and let's give those Rapturees a helping hand toward Heaven!
*Warning: Salvation may include being thrown into the everlasting lake of fire.