Woe, Steve Irwin. RIP. Yeah, all my damn flist's already said about it but I deserve one little line to feel sad about it in my own journal, don't I?
In other news, I am sort of ill. I caught it off a guy we camped with at Reading.
Oh yeah. Reading. It was just so brilliant, I couldn't even begin to say how amazing it was. I was worried I couldn't hack the drinking and gigging and camping for four days solid but I came out of it a very excitable (and now ill) person.
Best band by far were Muse, although I really enjoyed Less Than Jake, and Panic! At The Disco. We also met Fall Out Boy, of whom Joe and Patrick were really sweet and pleased to see us, but Pete and Andy looked bored and were generally quite dismissive.
We painted "SNAKES ON A MOTHERFUCKING TENT" on Ingrid's tent and it made us loads of friends. (I just found some girl on Myspace saying she wished she'd got a decent pic of Snakes on a Tent. Haha.)
I joined the community
futurama and so far, it's making me very, very happy. Simple pleasures are my life :)