Thursday, September 30
The horrors
Just peek to the right, please. On the right we have some links. We all thoroughly enjoy Henry, followed by Hull Student Life, our precious forum and... Yes, my love, the Merch Shack...
Let’s have a look what horrors we can find in this dark liar of the World Wide Web.
We have this weird looking piece of clothing to torture dogs with. I don’t know why our lord and master hates dogs, he probably keeps stepping in the warm piles some of the loyal four-footers leave behind. Otherwise I don’t see a reason why he want to torture them with the cruel shirt.
Then we got a BBQ Apron. What were you thinking Chyldio? You live in fucking Britain. It rains 300 days a year in the UK. And it’s foggy 60 days a year. Leaving you with six sunny days, six when you’re lucky. Don’t you think it is a tad bit unnecessary to buy an apron for these six days a year?
The leering skull thong is the worst piece in the whole shack I think. Every fibre in your body wants sex, but the leering skull makes you feel really shy.
I copied all the shop items, so I read Camisole. Haven’t got a clue what it is, so it’s useless in a shop.
The Skull Clock! What a horror it is! Of course we loves the skull, but what use is a clock if you can’t see what time it is?
Trucker hat? Do I look like a trucker?
Okay, all horrors they are… But now it’s time to be more positive. Yesterday my brand new White Skull T-shirt arrived. Hurrah! Envy me. I am the blitz. Well, I would be when the shirt was black… sigh
Ps Hoodies are always good!
Let’s have a look what horrors we can find in this dark liar of the World Wide Web.
We have this weird looking piece of clothing to torture dogs with. I don’t know why our lord and master hates dogs, he probably keeps stepping in the warm piles some of the loyal four-footers leave behind. Otherwise I don’t see a reason why he want to torture them with the cruel shirt.
Then we got a BBQ Apron. What were you thinking Chyldio? You live in fucking Britain. It rains 300 days a year in the UK. And it’s foggy 60 days a year. Leaving you with six sunny days, six when you’re lucky. Don’t you think it is a tad bit unnecessary to buy an apron for these six days a year?
The leering skull thong is the worst piece in the whole shack I think. Every fibre in your body wants sex, but the leering skull makes you feel really shy.
I copied all the shop items, so I read Camisole. Haven’t got a clue what it is, so it’s useless in a shop.
The Skull Clock! What a horror it is! Of course we loves the skull, but what use is a clock if you can’t see what time it is?
Trucker hat? Do I look like a trucker?
Okay, all horrors they are… But now it’s time to be more positive. Yesterday my brand new White Skull T-shirt arrived. Hurrah! Envy me. I am the blitz. Well, I would be when the shirt was black… sigh
Ps Hoodies are always good!
Wednesday, September 29
Fools unite!
Okay, here is the deal.
Things are rather strange lately, and this time it’s not all my fault (you can interpret this two-sided).
While I’m at work I’m as bored as a supermarket and so I decided to write a book. You got to entertain yourself, don’t you?
Anyway, knowing me, I won’t write about anything less complex than myself. The list of subjects to write about was empty in no time, until only one issue remained: insanity. Well, I think I am just THE person to write about this very topic. And so there I went.
Writing about a person turning crazy is fun, but not too original. Explaining why the reader is crazy is much more fun. And quite original too.
So, I’m searching the Internet now, searching for information about mental illnesses, chaos theory, brain-information, everything about the seven deadly sins, blindness, deafness, choices between right and wrong... Name it and I use it to show you that you’re insane.
And building up my story I finally realised humanity is insane. No matter how an individual thinks or acts, humanity is just insane (well, we actually knew that already, looking what humanity does with Mother Earth). So whenever someone calls you crazy you can counter it with ‘humanity is crazy, no matter how any individual thinks or acts’. For arguments send them to the Less-is-More forum and let them ask for Super.
Then strolling the Internet a tad bit further and speaking with some convict offspring, some people know as Snook, we decided being insane isn’t all that bad. Better, being sane is all wrong. The best example is that insane people love and care. Sane people don’t. Sane people are selfish, greedy and God knows what more!
In conclusion, you are a fool and be proud of it!
Things are rather strange lately, and this time it’s not all my fault (you can interpret this two-sided).
While I’m at work I’m as bored as a supermarket and so I decided to write a book. You got to entertain yourself, don’t you?
Anyway, knowing me, I won’t write about anything less complex than myself. The list of subjects to write about was empty in no time, until only one issue remained: insanity. Well, I think I am just THE person to write about this very topic. And so there I went.
Writing about a person turning crazy is fun, but not too original. Explaining why the reader is crazy is much more fun. And quite original too.
So, I’m searching the Internet now, searching for information about mental illnesses, chaos theory, brain-information, everything about the seven deadly sins, blindness, deafness, choices between right and wrong... Name it and I use it to show you that you’re insane.
And building up my story I finally realised humanity is insane. No matter how an individual thinks or acts, humanity is just insane (well, we actually knew that already, looking what humanity does with Mother Earth). So whenever someone calls you crazy you can counter it with ‘humanity is crazy, no matter how any individual thinks or acts’. For arguments send them to the Less-is-More forum and let them ask for Super.
Then strolling the Internet a tad bit further and speaking with some convict offspring, some people know as Snook, we decided being insane isn’t all that bad. Better, being sane is all wrong. The best example is that insane people love and care. Sane people don’t. Sane people are selfish, greedy and God knows what more!
In conclusion, you are a fool and be proud of it!
Tuesday, September 21
Freshers Week Diary Part Two
Alright, boys and girls? Still not bleeding from your eyeballs yet? Well, we've got another easy cop-out update another real treat for you, the latter half of last weeks debauchery and stuff.
Shouts out to all the people doing Creative Writing who decided to come and see what the hell I was rattling on about earlier today, by the way. Don't worry, it might actually be funny tomorrow...
Right, just to remind you, I went to bed on the Tuesday night utterly hammered...
Wednesday 15th
7:13am
Of all the fucking mornings to have a fire alarm...
3:19pm
Finally get out of bed, recovered from last night. I've no idea how much I ended up drinking, but I've never ended up with a hangover that's kept me in bed until three in the afternoon, even after my 18th.
My debit card hasn't arrived yet...
7:12pm
It took nearly twelve hours in bed, half a meal and one shower to do it, but I've finally recovered from the most apocalyptic hangover in the history of my liver. It trumped both my 18th birthday party and New Years Eve '01 together, with one hand tied behind its back. SmugElf did warn me of this, but you gotta try.
And this is how hard I tried, apparently...
-Three pints of cider.
-Two shots of Apple Sourz.
-Four pints of Chyld-made Snakebite.
-Nine shots of lemon flavoured Smirnoff.
-A good portion of a small joint.
-Fuck knows what else on top of that...
And its all good now. Might be going out in a minute. I can start with a can of Fosters I got given for putting up some shelves, inflating a sofa and hanging a poster...
10:09pm
Shock and awe rocked B Block, Lambert Hall earlier, as someone actually set up the Internet. Promptly, I snuck in, checked the forums were ticking over, and reprimanded some idiot for nagging me for updates. I'm not superhuman.
Also, I've actually chanced a can of Fosters...
1:43am
Oh dear. You probably won't know that K80 gave me this class-arse drinking game for my birthday, which involved rolling three dice, each with a different drinking game on each side, mixing up the rolled drinks in a glass, and drinking it. Well,we didn't have all the drinks, so we made ones with the drinks we have, and we've been using them for hours.
As a result, I'm totally hammered. Again.
Then, some girl phoned me, asking me round. It didn't occur to me that this was, in fact, one of the girls on the penthouse with me, which shows the effect of random mixers on drunken webmasters.
So theres me, throwning on a shirt, gargling mouthwash, whacking on afershave (expensive stuff), then running off to A block - to find Ils, one of the saavy metallers from a few floors down, garbed on a skirt...
Oh dear. Gullible may be my middle name, but we've taken it to new heights tonight...
Expect another hangover report, I'm that hammered...
Thursday 16th
"joe, he is totaly hot he has a properlovely luchus body, tonight i'll have my way with him when he sleeps round."
Attributed to Cheets on his 19th. IE, today.
3:03pm
I've not actually been away from the computer for very long, its just that I haven't had a free moment to type anything. So what's been going on?
-Woke up, only a little hungover. Didn't have breakfast, tidied up after last night.
-Finally got my bank card, which only told me the obvious. Nothing in there. Ah well.
-Bought some things in the Co-op.
-Started registering my laptop to get on the net. Its still waiting to give me a proper IP address, so I can do crazy things like actually upload updates and shit like that.
-I'm not due to pit my Salamanders against... my Salamanders... in a game of Warhammer 40k. The things you do for people whose birthday it is...
4:15pm
In the middle of my thrashing at 40k (I'm sure the sides are unequal, as Cheets hasn't played since he was 13, and he's thrashing me), it occured to me that restarting my laptop might help. So I did.
Now I've got Google staring at me.
It seems I've finally cracked it.
4:39pm
Can't get MSN Messanger to work, however...
I'll start uploading this next week, for the sake of consistancy.
7:20pm
Got MSN Messanger working, and found to my horror that I really am the center of the universe. Since apparently, its not been the same since I left back home down south. It sucks, but since everyone else is running off soon...
Time for a party tho. Just did a beer run with Cheets and his evily loud bass system...
9:28pm
Two Snakebites in a row? Fucking hell, its a wonder I can keep my dinner down now. But I've done worse...
Friday 17th
12:38pm
You know the old story, right? The girls who you like/like you are always taken, and the girls who aren't taken don't like you. Its what I've found constantly within the last week.
Blimey, I've been here a week? Crazy...
Saturday 18th
3:40pm
Don't think there was a lot to say earlier really. Went out, got drunk, came back. Nothing wrong with that.
Got screamed at over e-mail by the bitch I call ex-girlfriend. I've never seen so many swear words in one sentence. And all because I sent her a preview of this diary! Women, they're very strange. It did however remind me that I've gone a very long time without thinking that all of humanity sucks. Quite the opposite.
Its funny, because the amount of interruptions I've had, I finished writing this short paragraph an hour after I started it...
Sunday 19th
12:25pm
Once again, I've woken up apocalyptically hungover, and I've just been told that something I smoked last night was not, in fact, a joint, but was in fact a teabag. Yums...
Hopefully, this shows just how hammered I was last night. I was introduced to the delights of Spiders nightclub, the local metallers bar. And fuck me, its cheap. £1.20 for a pint? Bliss. Plus:
1.) Its perhaps the only bar which could actually serve a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster with a straight face.
2.) For £3.50, you can get a shot of just about everything stuck in a pint glass, coloured green, and served to you. Its called a Green Monster, and was the only thing I had to drink last night apart from a half of cider.
Methinx I'm getting a membership ASAP...
5:38pm
Just got back from the Satanic ritual known as Eating Dinner, a process comprarable to the Holocaust, only pitting the poor unwitting students as the murderees, and using a bit less gas.
(Apologies for bad taste)
Went out and played my first game of footie for several months, scored a goal for the first time in years, and actually enjoyed it for the first time... erm... ever? I might even want to repeat the exercise some time in the future. Disturbing.
Monday 20th
2:06pm
Last entry for my uni diaries. Of course, you can now find new ones on the LiveJournal, but it'll be time for good ol' humour again.
Last night was the first proper stoning session. Imagine about eight people on my balcony, which wouldn't be big enough to put a mattress on, passing around a joint. Good times. Also saw Phoenix Nights, which was extremly freaky at the time but on reflection, merely hilariously funny.
This did mean, of course, that I was weedovered throughout my first tutorial. Did befriend a guy called Jim, who's taking the same course. See, good!
Also, my bank card came, with a cool £1k on it. That's drink sorted until Christmas then. I'm very happy.
With that, good day.
Shouts out to all the people doing Creative Writing who decided to come and see what the hell I was rattling on about earlier today, by the way. Don't worry, it might actually be funny tomorrow...
Right, just to remind you, I went to bed on the Tuesday night utterly hammered...
Wednesday 15th
7:13am
Of all the fucking mornings to have a fire alarm...
3:19pm
Finally get out of bed, recovered from last night. I've no idea how much I ended up drinking, but I've never ended up with a hangover that's kept me in bed until three in the afternoon, even after my 18th.
My debit card hasn't arrived yet...
7:12pm
It took nearly twelve hours in bed, half a meal and one shower to do it, but I've finally recovered from the most apocalyptic hangover in the history of my liver. It trumped both my 18th birthday party and New Years Eve '01 together, with one hand tied behind its back. SmugElf did warn me of this, but you gotta try.
And this is how hard I tried, apparently...
-Three pints of cider.
-Two shots of Apple Sourz.
-Four pints of Chyld-made Snakebite.
-Nine shots of lemon flavoured Smirnoff.
-A good portion of a small joint.
-Fuck knows what else on top of that...
And its all good now. Might be going out in a minute. I can start with a can of Fosters I got given for putting up some shelves, inflating a sofa and hanging a poster...
10:09pm
Shock and awe rocked B Block, Lambert Hall earlier, as someone actually set up the Internet. Promptly, I snuck in, checked the forums were ticking over, and reprimanded some idiot for nagging me for updates. I'm not superhuman.
Also, I've actually chanced a can of Fosters...
1:43am
Oh dear. You probably won't know that K80 gave me this class-arse drinking game for my birthday, which involved rolling three dice, each with a different drinking game on each side, mixing up the rolled drinks in a glass, and drinking it. Well,we didn't have all the drinks, so we made ones with the drinks we have, and we've been using them for hours.
As a result, I'm totally hammered. Again.
Then, some girl phoned me, asking me round. It didn't occur to me that this was, in fact, one of the girls on the penthouse with me, which shows the effect of random mixers on drunken webmasters.
So theres me, throwning on a shirt, gargling mouthwash, whacking on afershave (expensive stuff), then running off to A block - to find Ils, one of the saavy metallers from a few floors down, garbed on a skirt...
Oh dear. Gullible may be my middle name, but we've taken it to new heights tonight...
Expect another hangover report, I'm that hammered...
Thursday 16th
"joe, he is totaly hot he has a properlovely luchus body, tonight i'll have my way with him when he sleeps round."
Attributed to Cheets on his 19th. IE, today.
3:03pm
I've not actually been away from the computer for very long, its just that I haven't had a free moment to type anything. So what's been going on?
-Woke up, only a little hungover. Didn't have breakfast, tidied up after last night.
-Finally got my bank card, which only told me the obvious. Nothing in there. Ah well.
-Bought some things in the Co-op.
-Started registering my laptop to get on the net. Its still waiting to give me a proper IP address, so I can do crazy things like actually upload updates and shit like that.
-I'm not due to pit my Salamanders against... my Salamanders... in a game of Warhammer 40k. The things you do for people whose birthday it is...
4:15pm
In the middle of my thrashing at 40k (I'm sure the sides are unequal, as Cheets hasn't played since he was 13, and he's thrashing me), it occured to me that restarting my laptop might help. So I did.
Now I've got Google staring at me.
It seems I've finally cracked it.
4:39pm
Can't get MSN Messanger to work, however...
I'll start uploading this next week, for the sake of consistancy.
7:20pm
Got MSN Messanger working, and found to my horror that I really am the center of the universe. Since apparently, its not been the same since I left back home down south. It sucks, but since everyone else is running off soon...
Time for a party tho. Just did a beer run with Cheets and his evily loud bass system...
9:28pm
Two Snakebites in a row? Fucking hell, its a wonder I can keep my dinner down now. But I've done worse...
Friday 17th
12:38pm
You know the old story, right? The girls who you like/like you are always taken, and the girls who aren't taken don't like you. Its what I've found constantly within the last week.
Blimey, I've been here a week? Crazy...
Saturday 18th
3:40pm
Don't think there was a lot to say earlier really. Went out, got drunk, came back. Nothing wrong with that.
Got screamed at over e-mail by the bitch I call ex-girlfriend. I've never seen so many swear words in one sentence. And all because I sent her a preview of this diary! Women, they're very strange. It did however remind me that I've gone a very long time without thinking that all of humanity sucks. Quite the opposite.
Its funny, because the amount of interruptions I've had, I finished writing this short paragraph an hour after I started it...
Sunday 19th
12:25pm
Once again, I've woken up apocalyptically hungover, and I've just been told that something I smoked last night was not, in fact, a joint, but was in fact a teabag. Yums...
Hopefully, this shows just how hammered I was last night. I was introduced to the delights of Spiders nightclub, the local metallers bar. And fuck me, its cheap. £1.20 for a pint? Bliss. Plus:
1.) Its perhaps the only bar which could actually serve a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster with a straight face.
2.) For £3.50, you can get a shot of just about everything stuck in a pint glass, coloured green, and served to you. Its called a Green Monster, and was the only thing I had to drink last night apart from a half of cider.
Methinx I'm getting a membership ASAP...
5:38pm
Just got back from the Satanic ritual known as Eating Dinner, a process comprarable to the Holocaust, only pitting the poor unwitting students as the murderees, and using a bit less gas.
(Apologies for bad taste)
Went out and played my first game of footie for several months, scored a goal for the first time in years, and actually enjoyed it for the first time... erm... ever? I might even want to repeat the exercise some time in the future. Disturbing.
Monday 20th
2:06pm
Last entry for my uni diaries. Of course, you can now find new ones on the LiveJournal, but it'll be time for good ol' humour again.
Last night was the first proper stoning session. Imagine about eight people on my balcony, which wouldn't be big enough to put a mattress on, passing around a joint. Good times. Also saw Phoenix Nights, which was extremly freaky at the time but on reflection, merely hilariously funny.
This did mean, of course, that I was weedovered throughout my first tutorial. Did befriend a guy called Jim, who's taking the same course. See, good!
Also, my bank card came, with a cool £1k on it. That's drink sorted until Christmas then. I'm very happy.
With that, good day.
Monday, September 20
Freshers Week Diaries: Part One
Right, no ones been waiting for them, but they're here anyway. Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present the Grand Premiere of...
Chylds Freshers Week Diaries
(aka, Beer and No Clothing in the East Riding of Yorkshire)
Saturday 11th
4:25pm
So, I'm here. No sign of the internet for a while though. I haven't found where to put my cutlery, bugger actually setting up network cards and all that crap.
There's shitloads more to say, but I've got five minutes in which to pack...
7:04pm
Right, there's time between now and "getting drunk time" to rattle up some bollocks for the masses.
Partly, my fears have come true. MY room mate is not a dyed in the wool metaller, but neither is he your Reebok-wearing gangsta numbskull, which is good. I think we'll be able to go more than three months without trying to knife each other in the back, as long as I don't end up getting stoned in our room.
Gotta move, we're going early...
Sunday 12th
11:13am
Just woken up, I think. Blimey.
Yesterday was a bit interesting - I think I've majorly miscalculated my finances, so until my student loan arrives, I've got about £2 to last off of. And I seem to have discovered that it ain't coming until about Friday, so it seems I'm a bit fucked...
But first night seemed to involve drinking as much as one could afford (thank god for my saavy new crew, or I'd have left sober), dancing badly, and not getting anywhere with any women. On the bright side, we did try to walk home, got lost, and explored Cottingham.
I've got nothing to do today, apart from wander round and meet people. I'll start by having a shower, methinx...
12:05pm
Fuck me, those showers are cold. All the delightful memories of the barge holiday, minus accses to a fine and horny woman called "my girlfriend".
Just had breakfast, a notion only notable in that its not at home, and I had to wash up my shit after having used it.
I need to phone the folks, I need money to not stay sober on...
6:05pm
Its been a relativly busy day today. Went into Hull, had a look around, and ate at Pizza Hut. We came back, and we've been bored ever since.
The money problem's sorted - Ma Jennings has stuck about £50 in my account, which I can get to from lunchtime tomorrow. Which only leaves getting the bus to the campus tomorrow - with a quid, possible - and this evenings socialising - and some damn fine chicas downstairs are having a gathering there later, which we've been invited to. I should be popular, what with all the whiskey. I'm kicking myself that I forgot the bottle of Strongbow bequeathed to me by AmyJay.
Tomorrow, I can get this damned thing hooked up to the Internet. Which'll be good. In the meanwhile, I need a shit...
7:46pm
God, I'm fucking bored...
The women aren't anywhere in sight, we've got nothing to do.
1:02am
In the middle of what amounts to be a respectably large party. I am on the top floor, therefore I am part of the Penthouse Massive. My crew expands to have a name! I've now become Jag, (crossref: Rolling Stones) the legend of the Penthouse Crew. World Conquest one step further...
I can't stay, we've just finished messing around with camera phones (sounds of SuperMarct gnawing his phoneline) and USB ports, so its time to get back to actual socialising...
1:38pm
...and the first meeting of the Penthouse Massive (feat. Jagg) has abdicated for the evening. Now I'm going to eat food, type random bollocks, and listen to The Prodigy. G'night y'all...
2:02am
OK, so I've done another Henry Skull comic. Productive? Oui. Well rested? Do I need to be?
Monday 13th
1:40pm
Absolutly nothing has gone right so far today, and here's why.
-"DO NOT MISS IMPORTENT MEETING AT 10:15 THIS MORNING OR ELSE!!" declared the importent letter from the Philosophy Department. Somehow, I managed to read this as "10:45", and set my alarm for 10. I didn't even get up then, oversleeping until 10:20, looking at my timetable, and collapsing in a panic. Thankfully, I got there just before it finished, got the nessersary paperwork, and decided to get a drink. First of all, a trip to the cash machine to get out the money the parents had left there...
-Then the cash machine ate my fucking card. I assume its something to do with the new account, but I stuck it in to get the money, and it told me "This Card Has Been Detained". Fucking great. Now instead of having £1.50 and a student loan on Friday, I've got 40p and no way to get any more money at all. I'm going to have to ask somebody for some, but I can't see it happening.
-I haven't eaten anything but a handful of Cheerios since 3pm yesterday, and I don't really care. It must be the Dutchman in me.
-I need to go into town now, and pray to any deity that has existed, will existed and will one day exist, that I can get out some money using my chequebook.
-Fuck, I'm thirsty.
7:10pm
Well, it all got a bit better after that. In the last six and a half hours, I...
-Had three glasses of juice.
-Also had a Pot Noodle
-Got on my bike at 3:15 and went into Hull.
-Asked half a dozen people where the Woolwich bank was.
-Found it by accident.
-Managed to get out £50.
-Stopped back at the uni to get my NUS card.
-Go told I was too late to get it.
-Got a Grim Reaper poster.
-Went back, and got dinner with the Penthouse Crew.
-Came back here.
In a bit, we're off to a club. The ladies are dressing up nice, the lads (metallers mostly) are just going in jeans and T-shirts.
Time to stop being a recluse and talk to people...
Y'know, its ironic that I'm doing Philosophy, and I get my own ivory tower to ruminate in...
12:39am
Y'know, it seems my bad luck keeps fucking going on and on man. Once again, it seems the heart of Chyld is being stomped on by the womem he likes. I'd say more, but its all I can do not to bite a wodge out of the shelf and throw up everywhere.
Other than that, its all beeen fun until about midnight. At that point, Cinderella didn't leave the party, she got whisked off her feet by some random bloke while Prince Charming looked on and wondered how he managed it.
Am I making sense? Cos I don't think I am.
Incidently, three shots of vodka and a VK in The Mission pub is a combination that'll get anyone slaughtered after one pint. And Snakebite! Duck has been telling its virtues for months, and I've only just tried it, and fuck its nice!
Time to be sociable again. Or a whiny, lovelorn piece of shit. Both are fitting titles at the moment...
3:09am
What the sodding hell am I still doing awake NOW, of all hours? Not even the most legendary blazes with the lads lasted this long, and I'm still here listening to assorted remixes, re-reading "Mostly Harmless", and massaging my poor bruised ego. I'm even sobering up, for fucks sake! That ain't supposed to happen.
Tuesday 14th
10:02am
Oh, my fucking head...
7:10pm
Oh, my fucking arse...
I've been on campus all fucking day, and Im whacked. My day after that last entry followed as such...
-Had a shower.
-Hopped on the bike.
-Only just made it in time for the thing I had to be in for.
-Wandered round with the girl I spectacularly failed to get with last night, looking at stands giving out free stuff.
-Attended a boring waffly meeting.
-Went and had lunch at Subway. Fucking lush.
-Went back to register with the uni.
Two and a half hours later, I had finally got through the queue, and then...
-Started to cycle home.
-Picked up eight cans of cider for a fiver.
-Got back.
-Had dinner.
And now I'm being hassled to go out...
10:18PM
Yep, we went off to the pub to see Arsenal vs Fuck-No-Who in the pub down the road. Importent announcement:
Five Shots of Apple Sourz For A Fiver In The Cross Keys!
This fact is so importent, it deserves a paragraph in its own right.
Then we got back, and me and The Resident Stoner From Block A went off and smoked The Last of The Summer Weed. And now I'm stoned. And everyones swarming around and reading me talking bollocks, and commenting as such. Oh wibbles.
Incidently, I can now make a mean Snakebite...
Next time: Sleeping alongside women, trouncings at 40k, and eight differnt shots in one glass...
Chylds Freshers Week Diaries
(aka, Beer and No Clothing in the East Riding of Yorkshire)
Saturday 11th
4:25pm
So, I'm here. No sign of the internet for a while though. I haven't found where to put my cutlery, bugger actually setting up network cards and all that crap.
There's shitloads more to say, but I've got five minutes in which to pack...
7:04pm
Right, there's time between now and "getting drunk time" to rattle up some bollocks for the masses.
Partly, my fears have come true. MY room mate is not a dyed in the wool metaller, but neither is he your Reebok-wearing gangsta numbskull, which is good. I think we'll be able to go more than three months without trying to knife each other in the back, as long as I don't end up getting stoned in our room.
Gotta move, we're going early...
Sunday 12th
11:13am
Just woken up, I think. Blimey.
Yesterday was a bit interesting - I think I've majorly miscalculated my finances, so until my student loan arrives, I've got about £2 to last off of. And I seem to have discovered that it ain't coming until about Friday, so it seems I'm a bit fucked...
But first night seemed to involve drinking as much as one could afford (thank god for my saavy new crew, or I'd have left sober), dancing badly, and not getting anywhere with any women. On the bright side, we did try to walk home, got lost, and explored Cottingham.
I've got nothing to do today, apart from wander round and meet people. I'll start by having a shower, methinx...
12:05pm
Fuck me, those showers are cold. All the delightful memories of the barge holiday, minus accses to a fine and horny woman called "my girlfriend".
Just had breakfast, a notion only notable in that its not at home, and I had to wash up my shit after having used it.
I need to phone the folks, I need money to not stay sober on...
6:05pm
Its been a relativly busy day today. Went into Hull, had a look around, and ate at Pizza Hut. We came back, and we've been bored ever since.
The money problem's sorted - Ma Jennings has stuck about £50 in my account, which I can get to from lunchtime tomorrow. Which only leaves getting the bus to the campus tomorrow - with a quid, possible - and this evenings socialising - and some damn fine chicas downstairs are having a gathering there later, which we've been invited to. I should be popular, what with all the whiskey. I'm kicking myself that I forgot the bottle of Strongbow bequeathed to me by AmyJay.
Tomorrow, I can get this damned thing hooked up to the Internet. Which'll be good. In the meanwhile, I need a shit...
7:46pm
God, I'm fucking bored...
The women aren't anywhere in sight, we've got nothing to do.
1:02am
In the middle of what amounts to be a respectably large party. I am on the top floor, therefore I am part of the Penthouse Massive. My crew expands to have a name! I've now become Jag, (crossref: Rolling Stones) the legend of the Penthouse Crew. World Conquest one step further...
I can't stay, we've just finished messing around with camera phones (sounds of SuperMarct gnawing his phoneline) and USB ports, so its time to get back to actual socialising...
1:38pm
...and the first meeting of the Penthouse Massive (feat. Jagg) has abdicated for the evening. Now I'm going to eat food, type random bollocks, and listen to The Prodigy. G'night y'all...
2:02am
OK, so I've done another Henry Skull comic. Productive? Oui. Well rested? Do I need to be?
Monday 13th
1:40pm
Absolutly nothing has gone right so far today, and here's why.
-"DO NOT MISS IMPORTENT MEETING AT 10:15 THIS MORNING OR ELSE!!" declared the importent letter from the Philosophy Department. Somehow, I managed to read this as "10:45", and set my alarm for 10. I didn't even get up then, oversleeping until 10:20, looking at my timetable, and collapsing in a panic. Thankfully, I got there just before it finished, got the nessersary paperwork, and decided to get a drink. First of all, a trip to the cash machine to get out the money the parents had left there...
-Then the cash machine ate my fucking card. I assume its something to do with the new account, but I stuck it in to get the money, and it told me "This Card Has Been Detained". Fucking great. Now instead of having £1.50 and a student loan on Friday, I've got 40p and no way to get any more money at all. I'm going to have to ask somebody for some, but I can't see it happening.
-I haven't eaten anything but a handful of Cheerios since 3pm yesterday, and I don't really care. It must be the Dutchman in me.
-I need to go into town now, and pray to any deity that has existed, will existed and will one day exist, that I can get out some money using my chequebook.
-Fuck, I'm thirsty.
7:10pm
Well, it all got a bit better after that. In the last six and a half hours, I...
-Had three glasses of juice.
-Also had a Pot Noodle
-Got on my bike at 3:15 and went into Hull.
-Asked half a dozen people where the Woolwich bank was.
-Found it by accident.
-Managed to get out £50.
-Stopped back at the uni to get my NUS card.
-Go told I was too late to get it.
-Got a Grim Reaper poster.
-Went back, and got dinner with the Penthouse Crew.
-Came back here.
In a bit, we're off to a club. The ladies are dressing up nice, the lads (metallers mostly) are just going in jeans and T-shirts.
Time to stop being a recluse and talk to people...
Y'know, its ironic that I'm doing Philosophy, and I get my own ivory tower to ruminate in...
12:39am
Y'know, it seems my bad luck keeps fucking going on and on man. Once again, it seems the heart of Chyld is being stomped on by the womem he likes. I'd say more, but its all I can do not to bite a wodge out of the shelf and throw up everywhere.
Other than that, its all beeen fun until about midnight. At that point, Cinderella didn't leave the party, she got whisked off her feet by some random bloke while Prince Charming looked on and wondered how he managed it.
Am I making sense? Cos I don't think I am.
Incidently, three shots of vodka and a VK in The Mission pub is a combination that'll get anyone slaughtered after one pint. And Snakebite! Duck has been telling its virtues for months, and I've only just tried it, and fuck its nice!
Time to be sociable again. Or a whiny, lovelorn piece of shit. Both are fitting titles at the moment...
3:09am
What the sodding hell am I still doing awake NOW, of all hours? Not even the most legendary blazes with the lads lasted this long, and I'm still here listening to assorted remixes, re-reading "Mostly Harmless", and massaging my poor bruised ego. I'm even sobering up, for fucks sake! That ain't supposed to happen.
Tuesday 14th
10:02am
Oh, my fucking head...
7:10pm
Oh, my fucking arse...
I've been on campus all fucking day, and Im whacked. My day after that last entry followed as such...
-Had a shower.
-Hopped on the bike.
-Only just made it in time for the thing I had to be in for.
-Wandered round with the girl I spectacularly failed to get with last night, looking at stands giving out free stuff.
-Attended a boring waffly meeting.
-Went and had lunch at Subway. Fucking lush.
-Went back to register with the uni.
Two and a half hours later, I had finally got through the queue, and then...
-Started to cycle home.
-Picked up eight cans of cider for a fiver.
-Got back.
-Had dinner.
And now I'm being hassled to go out...
10:18PM
Yep, we went off to the pub to see Arsenal vs Fuck-No-Who in the pub down the road. Importent announcement:
Five Shots of Apple Sourz For A Fiver In The Cross Keys!
This fact is so importent, it deserves a paragraph in its own right.
Then we got back, and me and The Resident Stoner From Block A went off and smoked The Last of The Summer Weed. And now I'm stoned. And everyones swarming around and reading me talking bollocks, and commenting as such. Oh wibbles.
Incidently, I can now make a mean Snakebite...
Next time: Sleeping alongside women, trouncings at 40k, and eight differnt shots in one glass...
Friday, September 17
Quick Score Check
Right, as I've probably already said, I've finally got the Internet set up, including MSN Messanger and all that crap. Only Kaaza eludes me grasp, but give it time...
For the first few days next week, you'll get the privilage of my Freshers Week Diaries, sources of much hilarity in this block of these halls I'm now in.
It occured to me recently that Less Is More is slowly becoming me just talking about my life, as opposed to writing humerous articles. This will not do! I've therefore set up a LiveJournal to act as a day-to-day "what I'm doing" thing, while any humerous crap I can come up with will go on here once again. Said LiveJournal is now here, but don't look at it yet, since it doesn't say anything I haven't already told you here.
Although you do get to see the gnarly pixellated triangle man I'm using as my mood thing. Which is as good a reason as any...
Finally, heres some pointless insight for you; if one of your new best mates pisses off of your balcony, but its raining, should anyone be pissed off? Answers on a postcard...
For the first few days next week, you'll get the privilage of my Freshers Week Diaries, sources of much hilarity in this block of these halls I'm now in.
It occured to me recently that Less Is More is slowly becoming me just talking about my life, as opposed to writing humerous articles. This will not do! I've therefore set up a LiveJournal to act as a day-to-day "what I'm doing" thing, while any humerous crap I can come up with will go on here once again. Said LiveJournal is now here, but don't look at it yet, since it doesn't say anything I haven't already told you here.
Although you do get to see the gnarly pixellated triangle man I'm using as my mood thing. Which is as good a reason as any...
Finally, heres some pointless insight for you; if one of your new best mates pisses off of your balcony, but its raining, should anyone be pissed off? Answers on a postcard...
Wednesday, September 15
Don't Get Excited Yet...
...I'm not back online yet. Out of my entire block of houses, I've only found one computer connected to the 'net, and I'm using five minutes to check no ones killing themselves.
And its true - nobody gets out of this place sober...
And its true - nobody gets out of this place sober...
Thursday, September 9
We lost it
Okay, I fully agree, Dutch are weird… but it seems we lost it completely this time!
The latest crime fighting weapons we use are… cows!
A vacation resort in Holland is going to put cows in the forest. Not a big deal you think, but they’re actually doing it so gays won’t have sex in public! This seems to be quite a problem in Spaarnwoude. Well, that might be all true, but I doubt cows can see the difference between homo-sexuals having sex and heterosexuals having sex.
The latest crime fighting weapons we use are… cows!
A vacation resort in Holland is going to put cows in the forest. Not a big deal you think, but they’re actually doing it so gays won’t have sex in public! This seems to be quite a problem in Spaarnwoude. Well, that might be all true, but I doubt cows can see the difference between homo-sexuals having sex and heterosexuals having sex.
Tuesday, September 7
The Reading Diaries: Two of Two
Saturday:
Finally, some proper sunshine had broken through this morning. It didn't help much, the path by the tap near our campsite was by now nothing more nor less than a small swamp, assuring that my shoes constantly had a layer of wet mud.
This could not daunt me - the Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster were playing, surely nothing else matters? First off, however, was a couple of other acts I wanted to see, The Bronx and The Icarus Line. The former was an absolute stormer - imagine Raging Speedhorn, if they'd grown up in America listening to punk, instead of living in Corby on a diet of metal. The only good thing about the latters performance, however, was the frontman's excellent hair. I was expecting some agression, any agression, but there was none.
This put me into bad sorts as The Eighties came on stage. And the mood followed. Sure, they were good, sure their songs could disembowl a donkey. But in my opinion, they just weren't very good that day. It was nice to hear some more new songs, though. However, they were giving out DVDs somewhere, and I didn't find one, not learning until I visited their forum the other day.
It was at this point that one of my many whims ran away with me. Finding the least dodgy market stall I could, I went and picked up a smal bag of magic mushrooms. I ran back to the campsite to indulge in these. I was disappointed - I was expecting hallucinations, all that happened was a pleasent high, not dissimilar to a good joint, only a little less disorienting. After these, I moved onto the Apple Sourz again. Everyone had a bottle of this, and while no one else had even touched theirs thus far, I had drained half my bottle by the time I left to see Roxy Saint.
A kick to the nads for anyone who didn't see her. The body of an angel, the mind of a devil, and a damned good singer to boot. Conparisons to my ex are curtailed over whether the arguement of "good singing voice vs. sex". Buy her DVD, you plebes! And do it now!
I decided that, after that, I didn't want anything to ruin my euphoria, so I just went straight to CAs tent for... you already know what. It doesn't help that he was asleep for all the time that he wasn't ripping bongs with me...
Sunday:
I was really quite bored today, mainly due to the lack of appreciated bands. The Rasmus got bottled off after one song, while I lay around and ate a pot noodle. Eventually, we all went off to see the Lostprophets and Placebo, both of whom were good. Then came the most fun of the weekend not clad in spandex.
For the life of me, I've not been able to find out what administrative blunder booked 50 Cent, the epitomy of everything there is to hate about bad rap, to play the Carling Weekend Festival, the biggest rock festival in Britain, and why they expected him to be liked. Throughout the entire weekend, I only found one person who liked him. That was out of at least a hundred people. There was only one outcome.
Five minutes before he even came on, bottles were flying at the stage. As he came on, you couldn't see the stage for the flying plastic in the air. And it never truly stopped, just slowed too much for my liking. I myself have never ended screaming "WANKER!" for so long, nor seen so many people raise their middle fingers in the same direction. You have to credit the man for his balls though - he stuck it out for 20 minutes before he buggered off, to the sound of the biggest cheer of the weekend.
This gave Green Day extra time to set up and play, and thank God for it. If Roxy Saint hadn't shown up, and I had failed to pick up for another year running, this would have been the highlight of the weekend. Not one of the band was sober, they covered everyone from Queen to The Ramones, and they dragged some guys out of the audience to play on a Bad Religion cover. Quality.
Then came the final blaze of the weekend. Both CA and I showed up for a party in a tree near his campsite, where we encountered a fine young lady who was up for a bong or two. We only got as far as CAs tent and one joint before she ran off "to go to the loo". She didn't come back. We were worried she'd just stolen his vodka, but it turned out that I'd just left it outside in my stonedness. Maybe we just weren't cool enough for her. We were joined by two of CA's mates from Croxley, and we experimented by putting the dish from my newly acquired pipe into his bong. Trying to clear this nearly made me throw up all over the place, and actually DID make CA throw up all over the place. I made my excuses and left shortly after that. Everyone else from my camp was out when I got back, so I concluded my night by falling asleep.
Monday:
On Monday, I packed up, and went.
Incidently, I still need to go and get my pipe and hat back I left them in CA's tent...
Finally, some proper sunshine had broken through this morning. It didn't help much, the path by the tap near our campsite was by now nothing more nor less than a small swamp, assuring that my shoes constantly had a layer of wet mud.
This could not daunt me - the Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster were playing, surely nothing else matters? First off, however, was a couple of other acts I wanted to see, The Bronx and The Icarus Line. The former was an absolute stormer - imagine Raging Speedhorn, if they'd grown up in America listening to punk, instead of living in Corby on a diet of metal. The only good thing about the latters performance, however, was the frontman's excellent hair. I was expecting some agression, any agression, but there was none.
This put me into bad sorts as The Eighties came on stage. And the mood followed. Sure, they were good, sure their songs could disembowl a donkey. But in my opinion, they just weren't very good that day. It was nice to hear some more new songs, though. However, they were giving out DVDs somewhere, and I didn't find one, not learning until I visited their forum the other day.
It was at this point that one of my many whims ran away with me. Finding the least dodgy market stall I could, I went and picked up a smal bag of magic mushrooms. I ran back to the campsite to indulge in these. I was disappointed - I was expecting hallucinations, all that happened was a pleasent high, not dissimilar to a good joint, only a little less disorienting. After these, I moved onto the Apple Sourz again. Everyone had a bottle of this, and while no one else had even touched theirs thus far, I had drained half my bottle by the time I left to see Roxy Saint.
A kick to the nads for anyone who didn't see her. The body of an angel, the mind of a devil, and a damned good singer to boot. Conparisons to my ex are curtailed over whether the arguement of "good singing voice vs. sex". Buy her DVD, you plebes! And do it now!
I decided that, after that, I didn't want anything to ruin my euphoria, so I just went straight to CAs tent for... you already know what. It doesn't help that he was asleep for all the time that he wasn't ripping bongs with me...
Sunday:
I was really quite bored today, mainly due to the lack of appreciated bands. The Rasmus got bottled off after one song, while I lay around and ate a pot noodle. Eventually, we all went off to see the Lostprophets and Placebo, both of whom were good. Then came the most fun of the weekend not clad in spandex.
For the life of me, I've not been able to find out what administrative blunder booked 50 Cent, the epitomy of everything there is to hate about bad rap, to play the Carling Weekend Festival, the biggest rock festival in Britain, and why they expected him to be liked. Throughout the entire weekend, I only found one person who liked him. That was out of at least a hundred people. There was only one outcome.
Five minutes before he even came on, bottles were flying at the stage. As he came on, you couldn't see the stage for the flying plastic in the air. And it never truly stopped, just slowed too much for my liking. I myself have never ended screaming "WANKER!" for so long, nor seen so many people raise their middle fingers in the same direction. You have to credit the man for his balls though - he stuck it out for 20 minutes before he buggered off, to the sound of the biggest cheer of the weekend.
This gave Green Day extra time to set up and play, and thank God for it. If Roxy Saint hadn't shown up, and I had failed to pick up for another year running, this would have been the highlight of the weekend. Not one of the band was sober, they covered everyone from Queen to The Ramones, and they dragged some guys out of the audience to play on a Bad Religion cover. Quality.
Then came the final blaze of the weekend. Both CA and I showed up for a party in a tree near his campsite, where we encountered a fine young lady who was up for a bong or two. We only got as far as CAs tent and one joint before she ran off "to go to the loo". She didn't come back. We were worried she'd just stolen his vodka, but it turned out that I'd just left it outside in my stonedness. Maybe we just weren't cool enough for her. We were joined by two of CA's mates from Croxley, and we experimented by putting the dish from my newly acquired pipe into his bong. Trying to clear this nearly made me throw up all over the place, and actually DID make CA throw up all over the place. I made my excuses and left shortly after that. Everyone else from my camp was out when I got back, so I concluded my night by falling asleep.
Monday:
On Monday, I packed up, and went.
Incidently, I still need to go and get my pipe and hat back I left them in CA's tent...
Monday, September 6
The Reading Diaries, One Of Two
Right Chyldlings, its been a while, because I've been lazy, and relativly uninspired. As a compromise, I'm whacking up a weeksworth of updates, with a comic each day too! Today, we're starting with my long awaited review of Reading Festival.
I've been hyping this up to me and you all for months now. Drugs! Rock! Women! Drink! General High Times! And hey, four out of five ain't bad going. But which crazed individuals did we drag along on this mad social whirl?
Chyld- Resident Stoner/Webmaster
Big Brother- Foil to many a joke
AmyJay- Senior Chyldling
-with her brother
Bubbles- Not-so-senior Chyldling
Batman- The in-house boyfriend
Tadpole- The lanky bloke who didn't bring his guitar
SmugElf- Resident Student
Sod- Drinker of London Pride
Brian Blessed- Producer of flatulance (and my tent)
Duck- Former rival, now reconciled with and to, Thankfully
Butterfly- One of Bubbles' "other" crew
Also, decamped near us was CompleteAnarachy and his crew, who provided the cannabis for the expedition.
Thursday:
At about 2:30pm, we (being me, Big Brother, and the father) finally parked the car in a car park. Within 10 minutes, we decided that we were too far away from the campsite. "Too far away" being "anywhere but on the campsite itself", my stuff weighed at least three metric tonnes, with the weight of 5L of water too. By the time we got into the campsite itself (after about an hour), one of the wheels on my bag was in a worse state than the American government. And that was just over paved roads...
This year, it had been the rainiest August for fucking ages, all over Europe (crossref: France holiday), and this resulted in gallons of mud everywhere. Along the path from the road to the campsite, along the temporary roads erected for the weekend, and particularly thickly by the taps, there was more than enough mud to totally cover ones trousers after one trip through it. And we still hadn't found the campsite.
Eventually, after finding CompleteAnarchy and getting directions off of him (see: him taking us to the campsite), and another trip to fetch Big Brothers stuff (left at the entrance to the campsite, because one bag was heavy enough), we erected Big Brother's tent, and I got to work on my bottle of Apple Sourz (tastes like Apple Sour Chewits, is 15%vol alcahol. Perfect!)
Not much else happened that day. At some point, I ran off for a smoke with CA, and started the first word association game of the weekend. You know the sort - say a word, they say a connected word, so on. Try doing this when you're butchered on skunk, and see how many times the words "tripping" "monkeys" and "poop" come up. I eventually went back, to find that Duck and Butterfly had finally arrived. And at some point, the day ended.
Friday:
I awoke to the semi-glorious sensation of an apres-weed morning, and the sound of rain battering off of my tent, at about 10 in the morning. Good start, that was.
Thankfully, the rain was light, the weed hangover was soon covered over by breakfast and Apple Sourz, and into town I went with Tadpole and SmugElf, in search of adequate toilets. We spent two hours looking for them, which resulted in me missing Goldie Lookin' Chain. Which was annoying, as a group I thought was them was bloody good when I was testing the weed for the weekend after we picked it up. However, I got a good shit out of it, meaning that the familys failure to bring bog roll was not an issue. I also got cranberry juice, and no one can argue with cranberry juice.
As a group, when we got back, we went off to see Reel Big Fish, a favourite of most of our group. I'm not as much of a raving fan as everyone else, but they were good, horns and all. We then went off to see someone in the Comedy tent, but I realised that, in actual fact, Hundred Reasons were playing the Main Stage straight after the Fish. So off I went. And saw them. And they were good.
After that, I returned to the campsite, to get on with the serious business of drinking and eating. Eventually, we all regrouped, and ran off to see the three headliners of the day...
We missed most of Ash's set, but they were good, and I was content to be the only person in our group to know who Har Mar Superstar was when he came onstage and stripped.
After that... lovely spectacle, the Offspring were on. Surging forward, me, Duck, and the two Jays were seperated from everyone else. Not a problem really. But then, as the 'spring began playing, I was cut off from absolutly everyone else by the huge pits that developed. Not a problem, I thought, last year, I found my weekends lady by advancing fowards into a pop-punk bands set, when they were just before the headliners. However, my luck in that regard was nil. Also, space was so cramped up front, I couldn't actually breathe, I was boiling from the sweat of twenty people per square metre, and when the guitatist Noodles was handing out popcorn (POPCORN? A gallon of water would have been better), I was retreating.
Oh yeah, The Offspring were good too.
Then the Darkness came on. I missed them last year, and I wasn't going to do it again this year. Neither was I going to be pulverised by a hundred thousand other people doing it.
The Darkness were a joy. Justin managed at least three costume changes, and ended up with a huge pirates hat. And everyone likes pirates. They barelled through all of their album, most of their B-sides, and a healthy wodge of new songs ("Girl! With the hazel eyes! Ahhhahhhhhhahhhhahhhhahaha!" Quality). Plus, someone was giving out "official Darkness lighters"! In actual fact, it was only branded with their record labels name. But it had a bottle opener on the end, so they're excused.
The plan was to go and see Shawn of the Dead afterwards, but I had no idea where it was, or when, or where anyone else was. A chance enconter with SmugElf allowed us to channel our searching efforts, and we eventually were told that Shawn... was on in the Comedy tent. While SmugElf had a piss, I went on ahead to see if I could find the others. I didn't. Instead, I found a man whacking his leg with a meat tenderiser to the sound of "Angel of Death". I'd lost everyone, again, but I'd found where Dirty Sanchez were putting on their performance. The 'chez are one of many progammes I enjoy when I'm stoned (alongside Bo Selecta, Viva La Bam, and just about anything even slightly funny. Even in a crap way), so I hung around to watch. Welshmen sticking needles into themselves, smashing things across each others heads, and bonging/drinking more unpleasent parts of each other is the best way to end an evening such as this.
Well, unless you include running off for a shedload of weed afterwards...
I've been hyping this up to me and you all for months now. Drugs! Rock! Women! Drink! General High Times! And hey, four out of five ain't bad going. But which crazed individuals did we drag along on this mad social whirl?
Chyld- Resident Stoner/Webmaster
Big Brother- Foil to many a joke
AmyJay- Senior Chyldling
-with her brother
Bubbles- Not-so-senior Chyldling
Batman- The in-house boyfriend
Tadpole- The lanky bloke who didn't bring his guitar
SmugElf- Resident Student
Sod- Drinker of London Pride
Brian Blessed- Producer of flatulance (and my tent)
Duck- Former rival, now reconciled with and to, Thankfully
Butterfly- One of Bubbles' "other" crew
Also, decamped near us was CompleteAnarachy and his crew, who provided the cannabis for the expedition.
Thursday:
At about 2:30pm, we (being me, Big Brother, and the father) finally parked the car in a car park. Within 10 minutes, we decided that we were too far away from the campsite. "Too far away" being "anywhere but on the campsite itself", my stuff weighed at least three metric tonnes, with the weight of 5L of water too. By the time we got into the campsite itself (after about an hour), one of the wheels on my bag was in a worse state than the American government. And that was just over paved roads...
This year, it had been the rainiest August for fucking ages, all over Europe (crossref: France holiday), and this resulted in gallons of mud everywhere. Along the path from the road to the campsite, along the temporary roads erected for the weekend, and particularly thickly by the taps, there was more than enough mud to totally cover ones trousers after one trip through it. And we still hadn't found the campsite.
Eventually, after finding CompleteAnarchy and getting directions off of him (see: him taking us to the campsite), and another trip to fetch Big Brothers stuff (left at the entrance to the campsite, because one bag was heavy enough), we erected Big Brother's tent, and I got to work on my bottle of Apple Sourz (tastes like Apple Sour Chewits, is 15%vol alcahol. Perfect!)
Not much else happened that day. At some point, I ran off for a smoke with CA, and started the first word association game of the weekend. You know the sort - say a word, they say a connected word, so on. Try doing this when you're butchered on skunk, and see how many times the words "tripping" "monkeys" and "poop" come up. I eventually went back, to find that Duck and Butterfly had finally arrived. And at some point, the day ended.
Friday:
I awoke to the semi-glorious sensation of an apres-weed morning, and the sound of rain battering off of my tent, at about 10 in the morning. Good start, that was.
Thankfully, the rain was light, the weed hangover was soon covered over by breakfast and Apple Sourz, and into town I went with Tadpole and SmugElf, in search of adequate toilets. We spent two hours looking for them, which resulted in me missing Goldie Lookin' Chain. Which was annoying, as a group I thought was them was bloody good when I was testing the weed for the weekend after we picked it up. However, I got a good shit out of it, meaning that the familys failure to bring bog roll was not an issue. I also got cranberry juice, and no one can argue with cranberry juice.
As a group, when we got back, we went off to see Reel Big Fish, a favourite of most of our group. I'm not as much of a raving fan as everyone else, but they were good, horns and all. We then went off to see someone in the Comedy tent, but I realised that, in actual fact, Hundred Reasons were playing the Main Stage straight after the Fish. So off I went. And saw them. And they were good.
After that, I returned to the campsite, to get on with the serious business of drinking and eating. Eventually, we all regrouped, and ran off to see the three headliners of the day...
We missed most of Ash's set, but they were good, and I was content to be the only person in our group to know who Har Mar Superstar was when he came onstage and stripped.
After that... lovely spectacle, the Offspring were on. Surging forward, me, Duck, and the two Jays were seperated from everyone else. Not a problem really. But then, as the 'spring began playing, I was cut off from absolutly everyone else by the huge pits that developed. Not a problem, I thought, last year, I found my weekends lady by advancing fowards into a pop-punk bands set, when they were just before the headliners. However, my luck in that regard was nil. Also, space was so cramped up front, I couldn't actually breathe, I was boiling from the sweat of twenty people per square metre, and when the guitatist Noodles was handing out popcorn (POPCORN? A gallon of water would have been better), I was retreating.
Oh yeah, The Offspring were good too.
Then the Darkness came on. I missed them last year, and I wasn't going to do it again this year. Neither was I going to be pulverised by a hundred thousand other people doing it.
The Darkness were a joy. Justin managed at least three costume changes, and ended up with a huge pirates hat. And everyone likes pirates. They barelled through all of their album, most of their B-sides, and a healthy wodge of new songs ("Girl! With the hazel eyes! Ahhhahhhhhhahhhhahhhhahaha!" Quality). Plus, someone was giving out "official Darkness lighters"! In actual fact, it was only branded with their record labels name. But it had a bottle opener on the end, so they're excused.
The plan was to go and see Shawn of the Dead afterwards, but I had no idea where it was, or when, or where anyone else was. A chance enconter with SmugElf allowed us to channel our searching efforts, and we eventually were told that Shawn... was on in the Comedy tent. While SmugElf had a piss, I went on ahead to see if I could find the others. I didn't. Instead, I found a man whacking his leg with a meat tenderiser to the sound of "Angel of Death". I'd lost everyone, again, but I'd found where Dirty Sanchez were putting on their performance. The 'chez are one of many progammes I enjoy when I'm stoned (alongside Bo Selecta, Viva La Bam, and just about anything even slightly funny. Even in a crap way), so I hung around to watch. Welshmen sticking needles into themselves, smashing things across each others heads, and bonging/drinking more unpleasent parts of each other is the best way to end an evening such as this.
Well, unless you include running off for a shedload of weed afterwards...
Wednesday, September 1
I Know, I Know...
So I haven't done a write-up of Reading Festival yet. Big deal, I am lazy. Have another Henry Skull comic to make up for it, and expect writings in a day or two...
