Warning! Ridiculously picture-heavy update ahead, to cover the time I've been away from SG and because after getting another year older, I'm losing my perspicacity, and am quite literally at a loss for words. Mostly.
Now, if my photobucket account excedes its bandwidth or something equally gay like that, then this thing is going to look utterly shit. Although because I'm not a hot girl showing off my tits, it probably won't. My tits are lovely though.
Anyway
Download Festival
Fun, but altogether too hot. Don't they know its England for God's sake? A lot of the bands were exactly what you don't need when there's a cloudless sky, baking heat, and when a can of coke costs about a week's rent. And whoever put Funeral For A Friend on the main stage (fans: 12, including their mums) and Prodigy in a tent (fans: 60,000) should be shot. Out of a cannon. Into a wall.
And who the hell put it so close to the bleedin' airport? Here's me looking totally confident that the plane wasn't going to errupt into a huge fireball and jacknife into the crowd, killing tens of thousands. Although it would've given me a better view I suppose.
Will Smith's wife freaks me the fuck out. Her nu-metal band is a travesty. Here she is warbling something about the eternal pain of being a multi-millionaire, while the drummer wonders where his integrity went. Will was there too 'Boom Shake The Room' requests duly ignored.
\m/
My view of England v Paraguay. Gay.
What you lookin' at?
Spinky
Supremely inedible.
I'm not sure what my camera did here, but this is a good approximation of the absolute best split-second view I got of The Prodigy.
Totally gay. The Simon Pegg lookalike in the background is disdainfully ignoring us.
Rome
On the first night Spinky and I had our meal at a restaurant in the shadow of the Pantheon. Sure beats cornish pasties from Greggs. Not the chicken slices though, they're lovely.
Spinky's fear of statues notwithstanding, here's one for the folks, taken at the Trevi fountain.
Debonnaire or scared shitless? Its hard to tell. My birthday dinner.
All the buildings of Rome seemed so beautiful, even the insignificant ones. Apart from the every-man-for-himself driving ethos, and the beggars and overabundance of souvenir shops, I absolutely loved this city.
These Demi Moore billboards at the Termini train station rivalled Mrs Will Smith in terms of freakiness. Demi = Big Brother.
Spinky loved the Vatican. She hugged all of the statues individually.
Especially St. P.
Cirque Du Soleil on the last night. Great times ♥
Waterloo station, Liverpool
After a woman was battered by five scallies earlier in the night at glorious Waterloo station, some others graciously waited until the last train to randomly lamp me. Long story short - after visiting some friends at home, me and two friends were attacked by some pricks who has been terrorising commuters all the way on the train from Liverpool, apparently. We were getting on the train as they were getting off; chaos ensued.
They ran off, but police have the whole incident on cctv and they know who the attackers were, so I'm told. Hopefully when they catch them they'll throw the book at them. A book with nails in it. And smeared in poo.
Coming next journal an entirely unnecessary rant about how frustratingly garbage this new site design is, providing I can click the correct sequence of fifteen links to actually get to the page that lets me submit a new journal. User-unfriendly controls haven't hit this much of a low since Raid Over Moscow was released for the Commodore 64.
Now, if my photobucket account excedes its bandwidth or something equally gay like that, then this thing is going to look utterly shit. Although because I'm not a hot girl showing off my tits, it probably won't. My tits are lovely though.
Anyway
Download Festival
Fun, but altogether too hot. Don't they know its England for God's sake? A lot of the bands were exactly what you don't need when there's a cloudless sky, baking heat, and when a can of coke costs about a week's rent. And whoever put Funeral For A Friend on the main stage (fans: 12, including their mums) and Prodigy in a tent (fans: 60,000) should be shot. Out of a cannon. Into a wall.
And who the hell put it so close to the bleedin' airport? Here's me looking totally confident that the plane wasn't going to errupt into a huge fireball and jacknife into the crowd, killing tens of thousands. Although it would've given me a better view I suppose.
Will Smith's wife freaks me the fuck out. Her nu-metal band is a travesty. Here she is warbling something about the eternal pain of being a multi-millionaire, while the drummer wonders where his integrity went. Will was there too 'Boom Shake The Room' requests duly ignored.
\m/
My view of England v Paraguay. Gay.
What you lookin' at?
Spinky
Supremely inedible.
I'm not sure what my camera did here, but this is a good approximation of the absolute best split-second view I got of The Prodigy.
Totally gay. The Simon Pegg lookalike in the background is disdainfully ignoring us.
Rome
On the first night Spinky and I had our meal at a restaurant in the shadow of the Pantheon. Sure beats cornish pasties from Greggs. Not the chicken slices though, they're lovely.
Spinky's fear of statues notwithstanding, here's one for the folks, taken at the Trevi fountain.
Debonnaire or scared shitless? Its hard to tell. My birthday dinner.
All the buildings of Rome seemed so beautiful, even the insignificant ones. Apart from the every-man-for-himself driving ethos, and the beggars and overabundance of souvenir shops, I absolutely loved this city.
These Demi Moore billboards at the Termini train station rivalled Mrs Will Smith in terms of freakiness. Demi = Big Brother.
Spinky loved the Vatican. She hugged all of the statues individually.
Especially St. P.
Cirque Du Soleil on the last night. Great times ♥
Waterloo station, Liverpool
After a woman was battered by five scallies earlier in the night at glorious Waterloo station, some others graciously waited until the last train to randomly lamp me. Long story short - after visiting some friends at home, me and two friends were attacked by some pricks who has been terrorising commuters all the way on the train from Liverpool, apparently. We were getting on the train as they were getting off; chaos ensued.
They ran off, but police have the whole incident on cctv and they know who the attackers were, so I'm told. Hopefully when they catch them they'll throw the book at them. A book with nails in it. And smeared in poo.
Coming next journal an entirely unnecessary rant about how frustratingly garbage this new site design is, providing I can click the correct sequence of fifteen links to actually get to the page that lets me submit a new journal. User-unfriendly controls haven't hit this much of a low since Raid Over Moscow was released for the Commodore 64.
VIEW 25 of 37 COMMENTS
do you/did you work at Egg?
I feel like I recognise you from somewhere.....