Alex, you're a twat
Who do you think you are, Mr. Friday night?
Friday we went to Quench, where some average DJ set took place and a storm brewed in the shape of some alleged party on some alleged road.
Eventually we made it to the party, and there were many people, all dancing and making merry, and it was rubbish. Sometimes it just is isn't it?
Later in the evening I must have offended someone, though I'm not sure how, because abusive text messages prevented me from getting to sleep for a while. Mobile phones are rubbish. But then, so are people who call you a twat then slam the door, not leaving you enough time to say something like, "If I'm that what are you, eh?"
The oyster festival began on Saturday and we feasted upon luxurious pasties, fine pink champagne and oysters. Oysters are gross.
The beer festival also began, obviously before we got there because when we did, there were people being sick and flinging glasses around. Merriment! A ruddy ginger fellow came up to me at the bar to complement me on my gingerness and tell me he used to wear a rabbit's foot from his ear and look how big his lobes are and the ladies like that you know. I bet they do! Lauren told me not to worry about Laura, but someone should, she's a freaking psychopath. Various other people I didn't know had met her, told me various things, which was surprising. Not as surprising as how many free Nike puncture repair kits were going around.
Ale festivals are fine things, but very dangerous I'd say. Again, the pasty was luxurious.
God what a boring 2 days! It seemed fun at the time. I feel like I ought to add a surprise ending,
and then a burning wagon crashed into Bobby and he had to have 45 stitches.
There, that should do it.
Friday we went to Quench, where some average DJ set took place and a storm brewed in the shape of some alleged party on some alleged road.
Eventually we made it to the party, and there were many people, all dancing and making merry, and it was rubbish. Sometimes it just is isn't it?
Later in the evening I must have offended someone, though I'm not sure how, because abusive text messages prevented me from getting to sleep for a while. Mobile phones are rubbish. But then, so are people who call you a twat then slam the door, not leaving you enough time to say something like, "If I'm that what are you, eh?"
The oyster festival began on Saturday and we feasted upon luxurious pasties, fine pink champagne and oysters. Oysters are gross.
The beer festival also began, obviously before we got there because when we did, there were people being sick and flinging glasses around. Merriment! A ruddy ginger fellow came up to me at the bar to complement me on my gingerness and tell me he used to wear a rabbit's foot from his ear and look how big his lobes are and the ladies like that you know. I bet they do! Lauren told me not to worry about Laura, but someone should, she's a freaking psychopath. Various other people I didn't know had met her, told me various things, which was surprising. Not as surprising as how many free Nike puncture repair kits were going around.
Ale festivals are fine things, but very dangerous I'd say. Again, the pasty was luxurious.
God what a boring 2 days! It seemed fun at the time. I feel like I ought to add a surprise ending,
and then a burning wagon crashed into Bobby and he had to have 45 stitches.
There, that should do it.