Why not add your two-penn'orth to the great Tiger Tiger debate by filling in the box at the bottom of the page and clicking that nice, stress-relieving "Send" button?

• Perhaps you're that old codger who was refused entry for both being too old and for having visible tattoos, despite that fact that you fought and died in two world wars so doormen could be free to grunt in English and not Hitler's German.
• Maybe you're the woman who was barred for having a not-quite-Cameron-Diaz face on what seemed to be "No munters" night and then went crying to the Chronicle about your ruined birthday.
• Or perchance you're one of the few to have actually made it through the hallowed portals and then stood, bewildered, as the very crapness of the surroundings and the twin insults of expensive drink and appalling service punched you squarely in the face.

WE want to hear from YOU. Tell us by how much they overcharged YOU. Tell us which hysterical reason was given for YOUR lack of admission. And tell us, in words of YOUR own choosing, where they can stick their pub.

No gripe can be too petty for our voice-of-the-people message board, no anecdote too far-fetched, no tale too apocryphal. And if you feel the need to swear like a fucker to get your point across, then that's just dandy by us.

Come on, what have you got to lose? Fill in the box and vent your spleen. You don't need to be Wordsworth to have your say; a thousand words or ten, or even a simple, heart-felt "Fuck 'em", can still convey the same emotion. We'll even sort out your spelling and grammar to make you look like a god in the eyes of the nation. Oh, and if you'd like to tell us your nearest celebrity lookalike, then we'll bung a picture of them next to your message, guaranteeing you the Holy Grail of fame and anonymity. Failing that, we'll judge from your words what you look like. Trust us, we're infallible on that score.

To set the ball of phlegm rolling, here's a few choice rants from some of our punters. They all seem pretty pissed off to us.

Newest rant at the top, by the way.

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Gillian Mead	TIGER TIGER IS THE WORST CLUB WITH THE WORST SECURITY STAFF. THE ONE GIRL I WAS WITH WAS ATTACKED BY A WOMAN WHO WORKED FOR THE CLUB. I TRIED TO ASK FOR THE MANAGER AND I WAS SWORN AT AND INSULTED. I THINK THE PEOPLE THAT WORK FOR THIS DISGUSTING MONEY PRIORITISED CLUB ARE SICK, AS I CANNOT BELIEVE THE THINGS THAT HAPPENED TODAY AND THE WAY I WAS TREATED.
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Slim	I love tiger tiger, it's one of the only true undercover gay hot spots left in this sad town. It might be crap to the straight guy looking for some westender with big sloppy beef curtains but it's got the horniest waterbabies on the door.
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Blissna	Never been in because they don't like 'white and blue checky shirts'. More input to follow if I ever pass into their 'hallowed' halls.
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Slash	I once had the great misfortune of working in Tiger Tiger. I wasn't allowed in despite having my (ill-fitting) T-shirt with their poncy logo emblazoned across it... No wonder the place is shit when half the staff couldn't get in for being 'dressed inappropriately' in their work uniforms.
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Chenneth	This place is the epitome of shite. A mate and myself decided to go there for our Christmas party being as we already had bought a ticket. We knew it would be expensive so we stopped by the Goose for a bit to try and lessen the blow by these dirty robbin' bastards. We did get in to the place despite not being dressed that smart though I think it was a Monday, however, the usually strict staff couldn't even be bothered to see if we had tickets. This wouldnt of fecked me off since they were only three quid but when we entered the tragedy that is the top room I was fuming, or would have been had the cheap Goose booze not calmed my nerves. The place is terribly decorated and just generally shit, but what really got to me was the fact that there was about 200 people there, all had paid for their tickets, and for our combined £600 expenditure what did we get? Absolutely nothing, not even a DJ. A band, food, even a a drink would have been nice, but it was no-go for these cheap bastards. Of course the nightmare did not end there; when we went to order a drink from a barman that seemed to be stuck in slow motion, we were horrified to learn that there was no draught. Bottles were bound to be some ridiculous price and so in the interest of getting hammered we decided wine would be the way forward. Shame it was £11 a bottle, for essentially piss water. Not only was it the worst bottle of wine I've ever had (that is not an exaggeration) but I noticed it in the Co-op the next day for £2.99. Needless to say we fucked off fairly rapidly. This goes to show that tiger tiger along with hundreds of other trendy bars is basically a shithole run by a bunch of thieves.
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DasGeordie	Had a Christmas Party just recently in Tiger Tiger. It's been in there for the last three years and we always went in the backroom. However, this year we got stuck in "The Club" Room on the very top floor. This is the one and only time I will ever get to see this room. Now whilst it was decked out for meals and the lighting was up, I can't imagine it looks any better with the lights off and people instead of tables. Shitty breeze block walls with cod- 80s lighting and the worst bottles-on-a-shelf display behind the bar ever. I think there may have been some random sheets hanging a la Coco.V. Oh, and the worst part about it is you have to walk through this stupid little corridor like you're lost on the Starship Entershite. Worst. Meal. Ever.
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Carlos Fandango	Now it has been a while since I graced Tigger Tigger with my presence, so I am not sure if my gripe is still valid. Anyway, here is what really gripped my shit, after ordering two cups of piss and mistakenly handing over an orange note instead of a purple (the robbing bastards), the gurning chimp behind the bar didn't have the decency to hand me my change. No, the streak of piss places three or four coins on a silver platter along with a FUCKING RECEIPT! I will not be shamed into giving even the tiniest of tips. Bollocks to them, its mine.
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Minisandshoes	Why go if you don't like it?? By the sounds of it, the majority of people who have complained on here should be sticking to the dizzy heights of the Bigg Market, where they can afford the extortionate fee of free entry into the late night bars, and drink the cheap watered down trebles. I say you get what you pay for...if you can't get past the lovely doorstaff that work there, then I suggest you save a few more giros and refrain from shopping at Primark for your Dappa evening wear....
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Chris Wilson	I was out with the missus on Saturday night as she was meeting her work mates and I was dragged along, but the meeting place was Tiger Tiger. Thankfully I got in OK, in fact I never even noticed the doormen as they were probably beating the life out of a charva in the back street or at the burger van. But once we got in it was my task to get the drinks. It took ages as the bar staff ignored me and an older gentleman in front of me for about 10 minutes as they served all of the women first. Then when there was no women left they served the old man. He asked for Stella and after about two minutes searching for a glass the barman came back and said he couldn't have Stella as the pumps weren't working, the man asked for Carling then so the unbelievably the barman went off and served a group of women with fucking cocktails in a measuring jug. Once they had ordered about ten of them the barman asked me what I wanted, I said "Do you not want to finish serving this man first?" so he told the man he could only have Grolsch on draft. Once served I rejoined the missus and started to look about and Tiger Tiger is full of poncy blokes wearing scarves and T shirts with haircuts, sorry hairstyles, that probably cost more than my first car. All of them probably work at Fenwicks without the 's', and live with their parents still. Thankfully we didn't 'explore' any more of the store and left after two drinks.
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Adam Jackson	A few years back, I was so short of cash that I actually applied for a job at Tiger Tiger. The four day 'training' process consisted of running across the glass bridge to The Gate and mooning charva couples at Pizza Hut, chatting up ugly customers, and pretending to me mentally handicapped and asking people for their number. Not only did we have to endure this derision, but we also had to pay for our own taxis home and undergo a meaningless Vodka tasting exam. What difference does it make what type of Vodka it is when you only get a 25ml shot and a whole can of red bull? Needless to say, I didn't even make it through one shift. I was told I would have to work until 4 or 5am, 3 nights a week for minimum wage with minimal tips. Also, they don't even have professional cleaners, they get the bar staff to do it all! So, in conclusion, don't just think that it is the customers who are treated like shit, the staff fare just as badly.
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Marshall	Ye knaa, the club bit upstairs is free to get in provided you're in by ten bells. However, whilst it's not costing you any money it does cost you your pride and self respect. Beer's no pricier than any of the other clubs but it's full of shop boys and pretentious wankers that are so far up their own ringpieces that you can't even make out the soles of their overpriced shoes. The birds are smart, aye, but the only look they'll give you is their best "what the fuck have I stepped in?" Snooty witches. Come monday they'll be back behind the counter in Next or Primark. Free? you're having a laugh! you'd have to pay me to go back. Kill them. kill them all now. Except it would be a waste of good bullets.
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Michael Foot	I WOULD JUST LIKE TO SAY THE MANAGER OF TIGER TIGER IS A COMPLETE AND UTTER WANKER AND ONE DAY I HOPE I GET THE CHANCE TO SEE HIS FUNERAL, AS I AM DYING FOR A GOOD PISS. MANY THANKS M FOOT
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Matt King	I went to the shit hole after a wedding. I was a bit pissed but when the cheeky fuck of a barman gave me lip, instead of chinning the cunt, I still had the sense to ask to see the manager to complain. Well fuck me!!! That spikey haired little fucking retard was about sixteen and had as much managerial skills as my dog. The cock (CHARLES FORBES) got 2 doormen to escort me to a back room to express my opinion on his twat barman. After letting me say my piece, he hurled abuse at me, threw me and my mates out and banned me for life!!! Now if the little fucker had spoken to me like that on his own without a doorman at either side of him, the cleaners would have been mopping up what was left of the jumped up little prick in the morning. Tiger Tiger is shit. The management is shit. The staff are shit. I will go back! But thats just to knock that little fucking cunt's head off. Twats!
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Mazza	On a trip down to Portsmouth, we decided to pay a visit to Tiger Tiger for a late night drink. I had forgot my members gold card (no, dont go that often but it was a gift). I went to the front of a VERY long queue and told the doorstaff my situation and told them my membership number. I was told they can't let me in without the card as they wouldn't check up my details on their computer (what's the point of modern technology?) So we trundle back to the back of the queue (one in one out), 45 minutes later were finally at the front and its 12.50, my friend gets questioned for ID by a beefy bald doorman. ID's not normally a issue so she had none with her, so I try to ask nicely if she could come in.... I was met with the response "Do YOU want to come in this evening?" Of course, you twat was the preferred answer to that but I replied with a simple polite yes, he then asked me again, like I was a small child that he was controlling! I bit my tongue and managed to remain polite, "Yes of course I want to come in." Well, how kind of him to then open the majestic rope (like he was unveiling a palace and not some smelly crowded shit hole) to allow us in..... BUT I'm afraid by then I was pissed off with his completely uncalled for attitude and was intending to make a complaint so I simply asked him his name. With that he told me I couldn't come in and wouldn't tell me his name! I mean what the hell is that? (and no none of us were mingers). So I get turfed out from front of queue after waiting 45mins for NO REAL REASON! and by then it's too late to go elsewhere. I was so angry, not only was our night fcuked but it was a special occasion and I had friends with me who were just visiting Pompey and were looking for a great time. so now I feel bad too! Whose idea is it to employ jumped up beef heads who get their kicks from being controlling? I think that the reason these steroid fed cavemen act like this is because they are lacking in other areas and need to make themselves feel better about their not so manly manhoods. But not only is it my loss, its theirs too as I'm one of those customers who actually don't mind buying their over priced drinks and many of them as well and usually buy champagne. I may be just one customer, but I'm sure they are losing many of us "meaningless customers" every night. Tiger Tiger in Portsmouth is shit, but it's the best of a very poor selection of clubs in the area. shame on you! Seething is a understatement, anyone know how to make a direct complaint?
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NUFCDave	THE PIECE YOU LOT WROTE ABOUT THAT SHIT HOUSE OF A PLACE, TIGER TIGER AND THE MORON WHO WORKS THERE WAS CLASS!! WE FOOLISHLY VISITED THE SHITHOLE AND ASKED ONE OF THE DOLLY DIMPLES BEHIND THE COUNTER 'WHO WAS IT WHO E-MAILED THEBURGLARSDOG?'... WE WERE PROMPTLY TOLD TO GO FORTH AND MULTIPLY... NICE.
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Mazza	If you know tiger tiger is shite don't fucking go in! It's a pile of shite full of wankers wearing sweatbands, sporting mullets thinking their ultra cool with their fake tans and ripped jeans hanging off their arse, the management are a bunch of cunts as well, the beer is over priced and the music is wank!!!!!
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Gareth Harrison	Why are we even bothering to argue about a chain bar, housed in all intents and purposes in a large shopping centre/cinema? If anyone classes drinking in this sort of modern day Hades as remotely cool then they are really not worth concerning ourselves over. Top Shop drinking for Top Shop people. Newcastle has a multitude of cool bars playing cool music for cool people. This isn't one of them. It has a multitude of pubs full of character serving acceptably priced beer. This isn't one of them. Bring back the Mayfair and plough this beacon of twenty first century blandness to rubble. I thank you.
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Johnny X	Been knocked back twice before, got in once and left immediately without paying when told it was £14 for 4 bottles of lager I had just been served. However, the worst of it is, there's a constant throng of wankers milling about outside the place as if it's some kind of happening joint, hoping that even though they couldn't get in, maybe some of the icy coolness of the punters within will somehow permeate the windows and pour magically into them. Stupid bastards. All I can say is, it's the nightclub that Gate drinkers go to, after louse. Which makes it the PERFECT nightclub for Gate drinkers. Because they're all wankers, and it means they won't be in the club that I choose to go to that night. PS. Bet the management are ecstatic about the burger van that mysteriously materialises RIGHT OUTSIDE the doors at about 9 o'clock every night.
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The Lord	I went to Tiger Tiger hoping to have a good night out for a mate's birthday. Apart from the door staff being a bunch of cunts and the ludicrous price of the drinks I was thrown out by the DJ Kevin for no fucking reason. After being thrown out my mate had her drink spiked in the club and had to be taken to hospital. If I ever have the displeasure of seeing Kevin again I will punch his fucking teeth down his throat for completely spoiling my night and my mate's night. PS take my advice and don't waste your money in this joke of a club. Its worse than having your balls cut of without anaesthetic.
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The Lord (again)	And just to add to Samantha Hatton's comment (below). Fuck off you pathetic bitch if you love Tiger Tiger so much fucking much. Stay there. I wouldn't want a snotty nosed skank like you in my local.
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Woodsy	Sounds like the hangout for scum-sucking pigdog cunts and licker licencees, policed by turd burglars on steroids. If it means staying on the other side of the world to avoid bastards like them, so be it.
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Mungo Jerry	Stop moaning. What did you fucking expect?
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Andy Nichols	I tried to get in before the match the other week, after seeing some Toon tops in there. I was sure I saw some lads in black and white inside when I was walking past and I could not believe it when I got knocked back by the bouncers on the door. No amount of cajoling or persuasion would change their minds and make them let me in. No football colours, they said, and that's final. Mind you, I felt a bit of a tit when I realised I'd been looking at my reflection in the window all along.
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Cannibal Dave	Was in Tiger Tiger a few months ago and my cousin was there celebrating the birth of his son. Why he had chosen to go into Tiger Tiger I do not know. Anyway, some champagne was ordered, and we stood at the bar, about 7 of us there at the time. With a good two-thirds of a glass left in the bottle, I was astonished to find that on turning around for a top-up, the bottle had gone. The imbecile behind the bar explained, "I thought you had finished with it." He was then told to get the manager by my cousin, who informed him that throwing away ridiculously overpriced champagne wasn't really on when the people who bought it were not only still in the establishment, but STANDING NEXT TO THE BLOODY BOTTLE! I genuinely couldn't believe it when he suggested we could have another glass, so it was with delight that we got the manager to give us another bottle, which I think we left a bit of, actually! True story. Tiger Tiger = Heroes for people with too much money.
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Samantha Hatton	Well, I think you're all being unfair on Tiger Tiger, to be honest. So what if you had trouble getting in, or they wouldn't serve you a pint? What Newcastle really needs is a bar with a selective door policy so fit birds like me can go and have a drink without being bothered by sweaty, lager-drinking retards like you all seem to be. I'm sure all the unpleasantness on here boils down to two things: you've all got tiny cocks and you're bitter cos you'll never get anything off a class act like me. No, you can NOT buy me a drink, "love". And NO, I am NOT a lesbian.
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Steve	Shite DJ - Kevin, I think - bit of a ponce with his blonde tipped hair... spotty student-type... cheesy music is bollocks.
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Rockle	Doorstaff = Knobheads, the worst in the toon. Clientele = Billy Johnson's comments below say it all i.e. pretentious, false, CUNTS. Any boozer that doesn't sell draught doesn't deserve to be called a boozer. And to top it all off, you have to pay to get in. Overall, from an honest drinker, the place is quite simply shite. They can fuck off as far as I'm concerned. Wankers!
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Pazuzu	Now hold on a second. I was in Tiger Tiger the night Trifon Ivanov (see below) was in there, with his bottle of Corona, flirting with the barstaff. I had a short conversation with him (he bummed a drink from me) and he said he loved it in there, and that there was nothing like it back in his home country of Bulgaria. Ask Trifon what he did with the silver plate. Well, no need to because I will tell you. He stole it, that's what he did. How do I know? Because I saw him in the Beehive later on that night trying to sell it to pay for a drink, the bounder!!
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Trifon	Why is it that every single time you want to have a look upstairs there is a rope err... roping them off. This means someone more important than you has hired the place. Elitist twats. Why don't they hire their local WMC like everyone else does? Everytime I go in there are less and less people there too. And yes, the drinks are expensive, it takes ages to get them, your change is put on a silver plate and slammed on the bar as you put your hand out to get it and the door policy is cretinous. Why do I keep going back? Oh yes, so that when I go to the Beehive or Lennons I appreciate reality much, much more. At 20% of the price as well.
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Billy Johnson	They're a right bunch of cunts. And if you're in there, then that means you're a fucking cunt too. I've been in once, and don't intend to repeat the experience. At least I know I'm a cunt, but I came out feeling that my cuntery had risen to new levels just by drinking one of their fucking PRE-MIXED (!!?) excuses for a shitty fucking cocktail. "Sorry what did you say that was, pet? Oh aye, that's the one, Long Island Iced PISS, my favourite." And it's full of fuckers who don't even realise how much of a cunt's bar it is. It's blindingly obvious really, when you think about it long enough (like 2 seconds)... Tiger, well, type of cat innit? Cat; pussy-cat. Pussy, well as we all know, thats just another word for cunt. TIGER TIGER = CUNT CUNT See, told you. Cunts.
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Gorodish	Was 'lucky' enough to get in on two occasions and what made the greatest impression was the attitude of certain bar-staff, one young, male, dickhead in particular. The place sets itself up as a continental-style cafe-bar right? So how come this git can get away with stage-whispering to his colleague, "If anyone else orders a coffee in Happy Hour I'm going to kill them." OK, if it was 3 deep in The Butcher's Arms on payday when the foundry had just finished a shift, but not at 4pm on Saturday in a place that prides itself on its ponciness. During the same session, an American woman who had ordered a Martini had the temerity to ask for an olive. The same eejit told her there weren't any, without a note of apology (or embarrassment). Again, I'd say that the above Butcher's Arms argument applies. Yes, we're a super-swish cocktail bar with prices to match, but if you want a wee olive, you can just bugger off...
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Bladderwrack	To make a caipirinha: Mash quartered lime and sugar in short glass, fill with crushed ice, add double measure of Brazilian cachaça. Tiger Tiger version: Half a lime and place in bottom of half pint glass. Hunt around for what's the name of that stuff? Hang on ummmmm... Add measure of that stuff - what's it called again? - onto lime, watch expression on customer's face as his friends say, "What the fuck is that?!" Tiger Tiger food: cold, unimaginitive, shit wine, all massively overpriced and served with the eagerness of Lauren Robert taking a penalty. Mind, still some canny flap in there
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Dave Hall	Well, from a Canadian point of view it's a bag of shite, eh Only time I've bin in was me leavin do and it was like the crapper. There's nee fanny, booze was all in bottles, didn't even have no coat hangers .... eh
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Yukio Hidetoshi	Tiger bars my way Celebration lies in ruins Tears fall in doorway (Contribution to the Book of Modern Haiku, to be published by Methuen Press, October 2003)
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John McMaster	I have just moved to Newcastle (This was my first night as a resident) and went out with my girlfriend and her pals to Tiger Tiger. I first saw it and thought, OK, a bit poncy, but I'll give it a go. Well, Jesus wept, I have NEVER EVER been a bar that didn't serve draught beer. I thought that this was because it was ultra hip. No, the barstaff were utterly devoid of hand-eye co-ordination. How long does it really take to serve 4 doubles? From getting through the scrum to get served, it took the idiot 7 minutes to find the right glasses, pour the spirits (He poured the first Vodka, rinsed the measure, poured a JD, rinsed the measure, poured a Bacardi, rinsed the measure, THEN poured the second Vodka!!! Then he proceeded to add Coke to them all, even though the Vodkas were Diet Cokes. Next of all he had the nerve to charge me £22. I know that there is inflation, but this is taking the piss. I was forced to stay there 'because we have a seat'. Female logic... I could have bought a bloody sofa and carted it on my head for the rest of the night for the cost of a few drinks! As if the bar staff weren't bad enough, the mungos that were the 'bar backup' (That's glass collectors in the real world) do not know what 'that's not dead mate means'. My mate left a good 2 inches of JD and Coke in the glass and went in search of the Jacks, only for a Shaggy (Scooby Doo) look-alike, brain-alike, to try and pinch the glass. I told him 'that's not dead mate', only for him to walk off, then silently return to try and lift it 30 seconds later. This time I got a bit upset and told him that short term memory loss was for those drinking, not collecting glasses. From his response, I feel that he had upset a few folk in the past with his kleptomania. Suffice to say that the next time anyone in my company suggests Tiger Tiger, I will get on the train with them and throw them into the Tiger's lair at Edinburgh Zoo. This will be a much more pleasing experience. PS The music was shite an aw.
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Alex Pope	A few lines would be too much when you can sum Tiger Tiger up in just two very important words: NO DRAUGHT
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Tammy Armstrong	How man, ye daftie. Ah gans doon to Tiger Tiger, man, an’ ah says, "Waxa! Purely belta!" So, y’knaa, ah’ve got me sweet Rockport boots an’ me double cush Burberry hat an’ me trackie bottoms, aye, the wuh fock’n blissna, man, and how, man, the radgie on the door, he gans, "Ar, nar, pet, ye cannit come in, yorra Charva, yee." An’ ah says, "How man, ah knaa yee, ya pure radge, man. Ah knaa ya face, an’ ya DEED when my Davey gets oot the nick." Ah says t’vim, "Nar man, ah divven’t wanna come in ya pub, annyhoo, so fock off." Aye, and a'm a classy bird, reet?
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Ben Martin	I AM THE MAN WHO STOLE THE TILES Questions have been raised in relation to my alleged improprieties in this, possibly Newcastle’s most soulless venue of recent years. In my defence I have to say that those floor tiles only became impromptu beer-mats so as to prevent the inevitability of injury and dismemberment at the hands of the poor quality fixtures and fittings in the place. Believe me, with the price I paid for a double whiskey you’d reasonably expect them to be able to lay out for something better than Wilkinson’s Budget Grout. I mean this place isn’t exactly popular, there can’t have been more than seven people to walk on those tiles before me, but still they came away in my hands with little or no effort. I am innocent, and trust that the jury will find me so. To give a general summary: Venue: Shit Music: Shit Drinks: Extortionate & Shit Conveniences: Broken Staff: Indolent Target Customer: Stroker That is all.
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MZP	The whole Tiger Tiger experience left me feeling very disappointed; it's three years since I have been to Newcastle (I’m now a token southerner), and I hoped the current cultural resurgence had cascaded to the night venues outside the Quayside. I expected somewhere cool, relaxed, where you can have a dance to good music, have a drink, and have a chat. But Tiger Tiger is trying too hard, plus it's flat out badly designed. The dance floor is cramped and an odd shape - and to get to the chill out area you have to fight your way through hordes of guys watching the dance floor, pint in hand. Hardly leaves you feeling relaxed. On the plus side, it tends to be full of older, more needy birds who are still a bit of a sort. Guaranteed if you fancy your end away with a MILF.