V-Festival 2009

Now where do I start? AND DON'T YOU DARE ANSWER THAT QUESTION WITH “At the beginning Womble.” And now I have said that I bet someone bloody does. Hmm, not even four sentences in and already I am moaning, when I really shouldn't. V Fest was more than spectacular. A lot more than anything I have ever experienced. So lets try and start with a new paragraph.

Hello blessed readers, (was that any better?) I hope my long absent from blogging or story making hasn't put you off reading these infernal things.

Well, anyway, it all started when KUP told me she had two spare tickets to V-Festival. Now at this I wondered if she wanted me to buy them. I looked at the line-up and jumped at this idea. Not literally, because that would of meant jumping through my laptop screen into a virtual talking place known as MSN.

Well my spirits were risen at this thought of me actually going to my first festival. And then plummeted when I needed to find someone to come with me. Now I thought of a lot of people who might buy the ticket, and pretty much everyone refused. Then the God send of Edward Reynolds saved my skin by saying he would go. Now it might have been the attraction of a festival, or my fantastic selling pitch, or even the fact that we would be camping with a bunch of girls, that made him agree to going. Either was, we all seemed set up to go. At this point I am going to add that it was only two weeks before the festival.

Now I have made all that sound very easy and simple. Well I was certainly not. I was down hill from then on. In fact a couple of seconds after Eddy had said “yes” and that he would go, everything fell through. KUP, didn't have the bloody tickets after all. Now I thought I had had it there and then. GAME OVER! But no, the next day Eddy got a ticket off bloody E Bay, making me feel even bloody worse. But this made me determined. Determined to get a ticket. I begged mum over and over to load me the money to buy one off E Bay or something. About two hours later she caved and I was going to V-Festival.... YET AGAIN!!! Wahoo. I was better than ever, everything was looking up.

However, I am not your average guy. I have about the same amount of luck as a sober Irish man has. On the Thursday, after I got my results, I received a text from Katherine just saying “Help!” I wondered what had gone wrong, not thinking it was to do with V. Well she had received a ticket from a girl who was selling to Alec. Well long story shot, after a minute of worry and anguish, I yet again, wasn't going to be making an appearance at V-Festival 2009. She thought that on mine and Alec's ticket there was a stub missing, because she had two stubs on hers, thus making our tickets VOID! Don't worry folks, we figured out that mine and Alec's tickets were still valid, as she had two stubs because she had a none camping ticket. And we had camping tickets. Meaning that we only needed one ticket. For the third, and final time, I WAS GOING TO V FESTIVAL 2009!!!

So, it was Friday morning. I was in a strangers car. With a load of strangers, and for all I knew at the time could have been mass murders. In fact now I come to think about it they still could be, but they were all nice for this one weekend though. And I want to thank Vicky now, before I get too involved in writing this little note of events, for not getting me killed in the car on the way, and the way back, to V-Festival. Also thank you Lucy for keeping me entertained, and not completely blanking me out as a stranger in the back of Vicky's car... which is what I was.

I think I shall have to skip remembering the terrible traffic and just state, we got there safely. I have told you the two passengers in our car, but not the others in the other car. Well driving them was Becky, and passengers was Lorna and Pippa. So when we got there I discovered how much 5 girls really need to take with them when they go camping. It took the three trips to the camp site to the car, and most of the things I don't think they even used. But to be fair I took a lot of food that ended up waisted. I know I hate wasting food, but there was nothing I could do. Honest.

So we go the tents up. It took me a nothingth of a second, and the girls an hour or so. Well to be fair, they are girls, and they forgot to take the pegs from the car, and took them about forty five minutes to go and get them. And in fact, in that time, I discovered that my tent was not very waterproof. It seems I had a massive problem then, because there was the biggest leek I had ever seen in a two person tent... the only leek I have ever seen in a two person tent but still, it was a big one. In fact my two person tent was soon to become a two person swimming pool.

Now I don't know if you know this kiddy winks, but when you are trying to remember a weekend full of 10 litres worth of cider, you might, just might, forget things. This is why I am still on the first day, trying my hardest not to forget an inch, but that n the process means that I am constantly loosing track of where I am, and on reality in general, which evidently leads to the inevitable fact of me not letting this flow very well. So do excuse me.

Back to my story. I had already made a name for myself as a chronic drinker and an obsessive moaner, and this was only by 1 O'clock on the Friday. But now I am going to take a minute to tell you all about my new camping buddies, and who they were... so not really back to the story. But kind of. For starters there was Pippa Sanger, who in my mind stuck out as a mass drinker of the holey grail (also known as tea). I think she spent about £10 in the end on the stuff, and that didn't scare me one bit. As I, myself, yes myself, am some sort of binge drinker of tea and all good leafy stuff. Secondly there was Lorna Rolph. Why on earth she brought a rubber ring camping is beyond me. But I do know that she popped it rather quickly. Thirdly we have Beck Brown. Now I found her a pleasant quiet girl, but who has a tendency of attracting beer cans to the head during all Katy Perry songs. Moving to the left of there six person tent, Lucy Cortese. She stuck me as a fellow camera hogger, who can get overly excited AFTER the event has ended. Finally there is Vicky Miller. My first thought was that she was a bad driver. My second thought was that she was a terrible driver, and then when we got to V safely I found out that in fact she was a bloody luck driver. Other than that she slept too much for me. On top of these finally suited loonies, were two lads, that I had to move my tent for... THREE TIMES. Firstly there is Jake Pimblett, a high pitched, oasis loving, scouse. He has a little friend with him too, something I couldn't manage as Eddy was camping elsewhere, his name was, and still is I presume, Johnny. Firstly I thought he was the drunk on second thought however, I found out he was in fact, the rowdy drunk, who is attracted by the smell of hair larger. So that was the gang, the campers, the hommies or whatever silly little term children call there friends, who two days ago were complete strangers.

Now you maybe wondering two things, one, 'why the hell do I keep saying “now” a lot?' and two, 'what DID we do on Friday?' I have told you before, I keep having to trail off to remember what I was talking about, and so the note isn't flowing. Hence the “nows” at the beginning of nearly every paragraph. Friday was the day for the fun-fair ride, and a lot of shopping on the girls count. I know that Vicky bought £100's worth of stuff. But the worse was Lucy, who seemed to be wearing a new outfit everyday. Then the rides, or should I say ride, as we only went on one. At the terrible price of £4 a pop, I thought “Bollocks am I paying that.” And so Pippa ended up paying for me, not to be left out. I was very sceptical about the kindness of this act, and I was right to be, she kept borrowing my stuff, for example, my smelly socks. Don't ask me why she wanted them.

But the ride in my opinion wasn't worth the £4 I didn't pay. In fact it was just as good as a goose fair ride, but double the price and twice as slow. Oh well, for me it only cost me a pair of smelly socks. And it brings me to realise that Pippa actually paid me £4 for a pair of smelly socks, that she ended up giving me back at the end of the weekend.

Well the first day was brilliant, but I did think it was missing something more. Maybe a warm up band or something like that. But they did have some sort of DJ in a massive tent and night. So it was turned into some sort of club. We all trotted down there to finally realise that they were going to shut the club at 11.30. Pathetic Club in my opinion. But what was more insulting was the fact that the others all went to bed as soon as we got to the tents. Leaving poor old me, as always, awake, and on my own.

Saturday came very slowly, as I had a long sleepless night. To try and burn some energy, I toured the whole camp site. It took me two hours. When I got back they were still asleep and I was bloody knackered. So I went off to find Eddy and Mr Forbes (who Eddy had decided to camp with instead of me.) Well that was all very good but I wanted to get to know my own campers a bit better. So after like 30 mins I headed back down to the tents again. Pippa was on her 50th cup of tea, and the others all seemed to be asleep. Apart from Lucy, who seemed to be wide awake. They both were going to head down to a crap filled shower, and somehow came out of it clean.

Now rather drunk, well I was, the others weren't so much, we wondered down to see some bands. I was pleased I got them all to see Ocean Colour Scene, convincing them all they would know at least one song, and that they could at least start the weekend for us. Then after this is became a blur. I know that some of us stayed to watch James Morrison, but no idea where Alec and KUP went off too.

After Mr Morrison (Not the founder of the massive chain of super markets) I wondered, unwillingly, to Natalie Imbrulewhateverhernameis. Now, I think that after her we went and had some tea back at the tents. Which involved me topping up on more wretched cider. Then moving back down to see Katy Perry, who I know now is a rather good singer, and not one bit attractive. Oh and she has TERRIBLE dress sense.

At some point I should of mentioned we met Alec, KUP and James(Katharine's brother if you didn't already know that (OH and I should tell you the KUP and Katherine is the same person!! That is a very important bit of information there.)) at Ocean Colour Scene and promptly lost them. Otherwise known as Alec dragging KUP off to sleep in a secret garden.

So yeah after Katy Perry we saw a bit of Elbow, who were all right, not brilliant, but okay. After them I stayed and watched Snow Patrol on my own. But they have very fast became my new favourite live band. And then I also stayed for Oasis, who I was rather disappointed with because they just didn't want to play any of their own song. But comfort came later when I realised that I was there at there last live performance before they broke up. (They cancelled at Chelmsford.)

Well that is the end of Day 2 at the dodgy place called Weston Park. But before I end this day, I want to share the horrible mental image of a girl squatting down and having a massive shit right in front of me, when I was watching Oasis. This is when I promptly ran backwards and away from the stench she had left. Enjoy that thought.

Well I begin this paragraph with Sunday morning, naturally. Now due to a major miscalculation in brain space, I am unable to remember anything until we got down to the arena. And I bet you can't guess, unless you were actually there, who was playing. Yes, it was the surprisingly rude, McFly. They wanted to know how many people had picked up S.T.I's that previous night. I was flabbergasted by this statement. I had presumed they would be a clean band, as all their fans are most likely naive 13 year old girls. Apparently not.

Now I hope you can conceive how difficult and annoying it is to find people in a stream of festival fans. I would like to state that, I was looking for Alec, KUP and James, not just any passer by. That would be extraordinarily easy, as a swarm of fans are in fact people... depending on how you define people.

Well after a hard amount of searching for Alec James and KUP, we promptly lost them again to go and watch “Pixie Lott,” a strange woman I still have no idea who the hell she is. I guess some type of copycat singer. But I stayed with the gang, as bugger all was on until The Script at 3.35. The time now being 1.35.

Re-finding my earlier friend, we found then lost... that being Alec and co, we moved to a worse gig. The Noisettes. One word sums them up, terrible. So while they were screeching at the top of their voices, I decided to follow Alec's example and get a free packet of 'Randoms,' and somehow managed to take a quiz on this completely new sweet, that I have never before eaten.

At this point I shall skip the details, as yet again, I am struggling to remember them, and I shall just list the next two bands/acts or whatever you want to call them, that we saw. These being The Script, who were so good they probably could of head lined, and then Lilly Allen, who has given me new respect for her, being equally as good for different reasons. She informed me, yes quite personally, that infact England had won the Ashes. This reminded me of my old life. The life when I wasn't drunk 24/7, and that I liked to follow the cricket eagerly. I also remembered that in, now very distant life, that I occasionally played cricket. I remember that I had not told my cricket team that I would not be able to make cricket on Saturday. Later I would find out that due to my absence, we actually won. The second reason why I likes Lilly Allen is that she got 50,000 people to swear at the Aussies.

And then came the Specials. The time at which, we yet again, loose each other. Me and James decide to find Alec and KUP, Alec had wondered off to the 'secret garden' to SLEEP! And now we had to find them again, to bring them back to the Specials... Only later discovering they were fine where they were. A wast of a journey. We just made it back for the Specials when the others wanted to meet us at the Ice Cream Van! Let me tell you, there was about a million ice cream vans. And by the time we actually found them, the Specials had bloody finished. WOMEN! Don't trust them.

And you know what they wanted to do next? GO SOMEWHERE ELSE... Well I wasn't going to stand for it. I was determined to watch Razorlight, with or without everyone else. As a loner if I must. But it didn't come down to that though, Pippa, it seemed, preferred Razorlight to Pendulum. And so the others buggered off to that, leaving us to try and find the best possible position we could find. And our attempts went rather well. We almost made it to the bloody front.

Even though Johnny Borrell was hooked on some illegal drug, the sounded pretty freaking amazing. But I still think he need to find medical help, and fast. He looked rather drained on stage, and he was going to collapse at any minute. Luckily he didn't and the show went on.

Yet again we went on another massive futile attempt to find KUP and Alec to watch the killers with them. But this time instead of walking all the way across Weston Park, we sat down and for once in my life, let them find me. This is a thing that I shall be doing more and more often as it is easyer for one and less stressful. Deciding at the last minute to watch two songs by Calvin Harris. Me, James, Pippa and KUP (not Alec because he was being annoying yet again and falling asleep on the floor) went in the tent and started dancing/jumping around in made circles to the last couple of his songs. I was impressed. I did not expect him to be that good. He really got the crowd going and the music was bloody good as well.

Now we wondered off to the big one. The one we were all waiting for. The Killers. This is the point where I felt rather sorry for KUP. Alec was being a jerk, so she had to watch them from a far. Unbelievable that the one band she really wanted to see, she didn't get to because Alec “was tired.” He has been asleep all bloody day.

Well as I write the end of this blogy thing, there is one thing I need to share. Having pee thrown on you by some tosser, is not a nice experience. The Killers was fantastic though. What a way to finish a fantastic weekend. “I GOT HAM, BUT I'M NOT A HAMSTER!”

Fair well pleasant readers. It was an immense weekend. Thank you everyone that went, for making the experience 10 times better. Same place next year?

Perculiar Sights

I just god damn missed the bin! What a bitch. I now have to go and pick up my socks and actually put them in the clothes bin myself. You might of been thinking that I was on about my rubbish bin, where by chance I have several used Lucazade bottles scattered around it, from the mischance of missing the real bin. No, I was on about my clothes bin, as you might have guessed from me telling you earlyer. My mission if I chose to except, would be to pick up every sock, jumper and any other type of clothing and actually wash them for once. This seems like a very distant future for me. As I look around my room I notice, other than my washing bin, four very peculiar sights.

The first thing my dull eyes are set upon, is the untidy mess on my floor. (How can you have an untidy mess? Sometimes I do wonder what the fuck I am on about.) So on this pile of mess there sits a straw hat. There are many things i do not know about this hat, but what I do know, is that I look like a farmer when I wear it, which suits me perfectly fine. In fact, before I got this hat, I was at awe how farmers in the UK could get along without them. I think you know what I'm on about. The intoxicating farmers, in Britain, of today just wear stupid John Deer, so called, baseball hats. I don't know why baseball hats are called baseball hats. Maybe it's because baseball players like to put them up their arses. Which makes me think maybe that's where the term, “I pu' a cap in 'ur ass!” comes from. Oh the mindbogglingly annoying slang that chavs use today. It drives me insane. This is one of the reasons I have this hat, to say “try putting this, large rimmed, hat up YOUR arse and see how YOU feel.” Normally this gets me into a lot of trouble. The second reason I have this hat lying on the floor, is that it has just been shoved up my ass by an angry chav, who happened to be passing by to find me muttering "I'll bloody put a cap inside your ass if you are not careful." I can tell you one thing, it doesn't half hurt.

The second thing I find in my room, is a broken guitar string. But this isn't a normal guitar string, it is the G-string. Now the fact that I still have my broken guitar sting on the floor is because it's there as a reminder of what I have to do in Nottingham the next time I am there. However, I believe that this string will be on the floor for a rather long time. I do not think you know how hard it is for me to go into a music shop and ask for a classical G-string, only to realise I went to the wrong shop and realise that i am now standing in Ann-Summers. I swore the last time I made this futile mistake, I would never do it again. If you don't play guitar then you may or may not know, that using a thong, instead of the standard nylon strings that should be used, is not healthy for the poor thing at all. And the most annoying thing about my classic guitar is that the only string that EVER seems to break, is the G-string.

The next object i find in my bedroom, observed by myself, is a folded away pool table. You may be thinking how can I fit a pool table in my bedroom, well I cant, that's why it is folded up. Okay now you are saying, “Shut up Womble, you can't fold a pool table away.” So yes, you are right about that. It's not really a pool table at all, it looks more like a snooker table. The day it becomes a snooker table, on the other hand, is when a big massive yellow constructor fleet comes to demolish the Earth to make way for a Hyper-space bypass, only to find that the bypass didn't need to be built at all. It is not a snooker table for two reason. Firstly, it is smaller than a pool table, and then smaller than a small pool table. And secondly, and most importantly, because the pockets have to be selo-taped together so the minuscule balls don't fall through and follow through, on their trajectory, towards the nearest window. The selo-tape failed to co-operate with my plans of playing pool in the conservatory, and that is why the table is in my bedroom, folded away and of no use what so ever.

The final obscurity is a fake rose in a used Guinness bottle, with a tin foil duck inside one of the petals. Some people have speculated that if I discover why I have done this, then the Earth would become a lot simpler.

Keith

Keith was a loner. He worked in a dead end job, that required no thought what so ever. It was so stupendously boring, that suicide had been a thought on his mind for a long time now. The only thing that was stopping him from killing himself was his pride. If he killed himself then everyone would know that it was his job that finished him off. This was an idea that Keith did not like. His job required the arrogance and the rudeness for it to work. And so he would not give into the intoxicating harassment of the general public that was his customer. Yes, Keith worked in a Post office.

The usual post office assistant would never have much to do. Especially Keith. All he did was weigh packages and ask for money. And so, Keith, often had debates inside his own head what this universe held for him. He would have stamp after stamp of recurring thoughts of stupid questions that will never be answered. Well, wont be answered in his, now very short, lifetime.

It was the end of the working week for Keith and as he walked, not being able to afford a car and was too stubborn for public transport, home he did something he had never done before, think about the universe after he had finished work. He was on a road he had walked many times before, but this time it was slightly different. He looked at plants and wondered why the Earth was here. Trying very hard to stop thinking such rubbish up, he eventually got home. In his confusion he pored a glass of whiskey.

Keith couldn't help but wonder about the complexities of the universe over his glass of whiskey. Every time he tried to get these recurring thoughts off his mind he drank some more whiskey. But every time he drank some more, his head flooded with irrelevant answers to questions he had never asked. After his second full glass of whiskey his head was swaying way too much to handle. He could feel his stomach crunch. To avoid being sick all over his nice carpet he ran outside. He promptly threw up the stinging pain of whiskey in his next door neighbours vegetable garden.

After the painful regurgitation of black looking bile, Keith looked up at the sky and wondered, what the fuck was God thinking? How can the sky at night look so wonderful and yet everyone on earth be ugly bastards. Maybe it was Mother nature that helped germinate the Earth into a giant trash can? Well obviously Mother nature had to be a guy. A woman could have no such cruelty in them for this to happen. No, women are cruel, they just wish they weren't. Where as with a man, they are tossers but they know what they are doing... sort of. But that creates the inevitably that men could create everything. Which is sort of right, in the wrongest sense possible. Mother nature has slowly humped the Earth, into existence, to plant the seed of life. At he end of the day, Mother nature didn't need the Earth but, the Earth needed it. So this leads to the only conclusion that life is a massive cosmic joke.

At this point Keith's body spontaneously combust, ending all confusion.

THE END