Apple pie without Wensleydale cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze (Back to School)

Current mood: Autumny

Summer is over, it's official. My carnival-cold has abated and passed along to my brother via our "twin-thing" thing just as I return from my last festival of the year, with nothing more than a lone twiglet of despair collecting fluff at the bottom of my pocket to comfort me.Dismounting from our 9-seater chariot on Sunday morning, our invasion force set up base camp by the canal from which to mount our one-day tourist offensive on the Reading site. Equipped with water bottles and cameras, our grockle-platoon proceeded to the battleship for a leisurely, but warlike punt down the river. As we came to a stop our battalion flooded through the gates, just stopping to don the traditional green regimental wristband of the doddering holidaymaker, and the hostilities began. We waded cautiously through the tiny black-clad natives to get to the overpriced, warm beer-like fluid, with which we were to settle our nerves. Then, we were overcome, either by the poisonous fumes emanating from the evil liquid, or sheer force of numbers, we were swept along with the child-shaped inhabitants into their inner sanctum. The noise, oh the noise, the wailing and gnashing of pizza-stained teeth (always check your teeth for pizza), the nasty food covered in a kind of film of grease (the Pffffeifffer beast, not the genius of Ms Newton-John or Mr Travollting for this food), oh the humanity.No more one day festivals for me.

But Pearl Jam were great, yay Eddie! (as was the 10 minute breast-off in the middle of Placebo, yay breasts!)


Currently listening : Martika By Martika