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...
