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Subject: Glasto
Thanks, try it sometime; it's guaranteed to amaze your work colleagues especially.
How did stalking that bird round the brown camp on Saturday night go? Take it you either made inroads or got taken away by the men in fluorescent coats...
How did stalking that bird round the brown camp on Saturday night go? Take it you either made inroads or got taken away by the men in fluorescent coats...
Ah, I can see it now:
A romantic meal of space raiders and drifter bars, washed down with vintage carling.
The flames from burning mounds of plastic and paper plates reflect off her eyes as people scream and push over portaloos in the background.
Your eyes meet... Overcome by passion, she whispers in your ear: "Do you have any baby wipes?"
Good work there my canvas-shrouded lothario.
A romantic meal of space raiders and drifter bars, washed down with vintage carling.
The flames from burning mounds of plastic and paper plates reflect off her eyes as people scream and push over portaloos in the background.
Your eyes meet... Overcome by passion, she whispers in your ear: "Do you have any baby wipes?"
Good work there my canvas-shrouded lothario.
Amusingly, she also borrowed my baby wipes. You've obviously got lots of festival experience, mr jim.
How kind of her to give them back once she was done with them.
Nah, as a pikey I consider it more a 'lifestyle choice.'
One of our errant space invaders told the exceedingly-close-to-jailbait bird he was cracking onto that he'd been cleaning his old boy every day with baby wipes, when he hadn't been anywhere near it in 4 days. She had a bit of a chow, and (shockingly) he returned the favour despite the fact she'd been on the rag the days previous. And then he deflowered her in a half-collapsed tent.
That kind of sums up the scumminess of Reading. Who says romance isn't dead.
One of our errant space invaders told the exceedingly-close-to-jailbait bird he was cracking onto that he'd been cleaning his old boy every day with baby wipes, when he hadn't been anywhere near it in 4 days. She had a bit of a chow, and (shockingly) he returned the favour despite the fact she'd been on the rag the days previous. And then he deflowered her in a half-collapsed tent.
That kind of sums up the scumminess of Reading. Who says romance isn't dead.
De-flowering! Brilliant! Not heard that phrase since gawd knows when!
I rather hate to bump this thread given the turn it took on this last page here, but the fact of pre registering for glasto has got me all moist over the prospect of festivals. Yes, I know it's only february. No, I haven't gotten round to pre registering yet. Yes, I know I may not get a ticket come April 1st. Yes, I know I may not get the time off work. Stop being a spoilsport.
Anyway, anyone elses planning on going? Jim? ForestFamily? Mr_Glastage? GlastonburyTownNil?
Anyway, anyone elses planning on going? Jim? ForestFamily? Mr_Glastage? GlastonburyTownNil?
In a previous life, my missus got to go backstage at Glasto 5 times, her other half was something in Sony. She was there the year Robbie Williams turned up after breaking out of Take That looking all lost and stuff. She wants us to take our boy there when he's older, but he's only 2, and by then it'll be easier to get tickets for a family to the World Cup Final.
Does it make me really old if I haven't been since you had to start paying for it? ;-)
If we're still talking about Glasto, then yes.
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No plans to go here. I'll be on Holiday when tickets go on sale, so the odds of me even having a chance of getting on are slim to none.