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As I type this, my fingers are still encrusted in grime from Download. I was too wasted to shower when I eventually got home last night. What ****** cuts the M1 down to a single lane on the same Sunday that a well-publicised festival ends?

Catalogue of injuries:

• huge bruise on right shin
• Skin scraped off back of left calf
• right ankle *very* painful, especially when not moved for a while
• left knee took a knock
• willy got bashed (kind of a whiplash thing) but is ok now
• feet and tops of thighs (front) all aching
• multitude of bruises right around the wait and back
• both arms heavily bruised, swollen, scratched and skin scraped off (shoulder to wrist)
• two large scratches on my back
• middle finger of left hand will not bend right back
• two skinned knuckles
• both hands very “sensitive”
• shoulders and neck aching
• almost lost a front tooth
• nostrils still filled with fine dust
• sore throat, also mainly due to dust
• lips painfully chapped
• head sunburnt and scabby where hair was shaved off
• ears ringing

The pit by the main stage was pretty much like a desert. Very fine dust due to a lack of rain (until Sunday night’s Slipknot set) which made moshing a rather mucky business. I was coated in the stuff, still have a cough and was blowing mud out of my nose all weekend. Black snot. Lovely.

Friday

When we first got there, we were stood chatting by the entrance. I was – of course – wearing the shirt you see pictured to the left, with my hair done the same way. A group of lads from Newcastle came up and we had a right good chinwag. This, in fact, was a common occurance over the whole weekend. Mainly as I didn’t change clothes for 3 days.

I was actually surprised by the relative lack of footie shirts. I can only remember seeing one Forest and one Villa shirt, maybe an England one or two and a foreign one I didn’t recognise. At Leeds/Reading you usually get loads – maybe it’s because they take place during the season.

The weather was great on Friday. Too great, as my scorched (stripey) scalp will atest. There wasn’t much on that day I was too bothered about seeing, and that which I did all seemed to clash timewise across the stages.

Megadeth were the only main-stagers on my “to do” list and they were OK. Too short a set and we were too far back to really enjoy it. I passed up the Napster Stage’s Paradise Lost and Napalm Death (seen PL about 8 times, saw ND 2 months ago) for the acts in the Snickers tent. The two stages were about as far apart as possible while still being in the same festival, so it wasn’t worth running back and forth.

So instead I watched My Chemical Romance (rather good), The Used (enjoyable) and Billy Idol, who turned out to be the suprise package of the weekend. Anni came out with a big grin on her face because he kept taking his top off. The guy’s 50-something and annoyingly fit. Bastard. He’s also ******* good live. I thought he’d blown his wad early playing White Wedding about 5 songs in, but there were still Rebel Yell and Mony Mony to come, plus great covers of Jump and Who Are You. The new stuff was good, too. Definitely one comeback worth watching.

Andy had gone off to watch Garbage (mainly for the **** factor) and Feeder on the main stage. He’s now broken his festival cherry – even if he only went for the Friday – and I think wants to go back next year, or at least to something a little more mainstream like Reading or Leeds.

My first encounter with festival food was a fairly enjoyable (and vastly overpriced) sausage and chips. A stop at Tesco on the way back to the hotel (yeah, yeah – look, I’m camping at Graspop) helped fill the other food gaps.

Saturday

After hardly sleeping a wink due to the snoring activites of my three room-mates (I, of course, am perfect and don’t snore), I was up at the crack of dawn to drive andy to Derby for his bus and then to the festival site to see Trivium who opened on the main stage.

Back to the hotel after them to pick up Anni and Liam, and back to the festival site. Breakfast was one Tesco dark chocolate bar and 500ml of Tesco “makes you a mad ******” energy juice. This stuff either bungs me up or gives me the *****, so it’s a gamble – but I can live on it for a weekend.

“A” were quite good, and Bowling for Soup an utter giggle as ever. Definitely a band I want to see a full set from sometime. We also caught about 5 minutes of the Ga Ga’s in the Napster tent.

Down the front for Anthrax at 16:25 and I bumped into (literally) a guy from the Trivium pit, now sporting a lovely black eye. He’d been knocked cold earlier in the morning. Whoops.

Anthrax ******* ruled. A great variety of tracks, though I think Metal Thrashing Mad would have been better than Medusa, and they didn’t play Madhouse. Hey, I’m greedy.

Liam and I then took a wander round the shops while Anni watched HIM, who were – in her words – “****” and “boring”. And she likes their album. Just one of those bands who aren’t good live.

Velvet Revolver apparently play “Rock ‘n’ Fuckin’ Roll!!!!” (as abbreviated on the back of the t-shirts to RnF’nR – not at all like GnF’nR…). Thing is, they’re also ****. All their own material is instantly forgetable, the only highlight being a cover of Mr Brownstone.

At last 20:45 comes around, and the only band not to clash with anyone else on the bill appears. Well, OK, Helmet were on but they don’t count because they played on Sunday as well. It looked like the entire festival crowd was gathered in the main field. An amazing number of people to witness the UK’s only Black Sabbath appearance this year.

It was Sabbath. All the songs were classics. Ozzy ******* rules. ’nuff said.

Oh, it was also bloody cold, but courtesy of five measly quid and an Oxfam tent, I got a nice Adidas t-shirt and a Gryffindor hat to keep my baldy scalp warm. I also had a ridiculously expensive baked potato and beans, which was nice.

No Tescos that night because of the ******* bible-bashers and their ludicrous hold over our government so I ******* starved. I hope you’re all smug and happy with yourselves.

Sunday

No sleep again courtesy of Anni and her amazing chainsaw/steel bar impression, but breakfast was courtesy of Mr Tesco – now allowed to open as obviously god’s not looking or something. I made my point by wearing my Sunday best “Team Satan” shirt. Hey, it’s a small protest but a statement nontheless. After all if I’m being evil enough to even consider shopping on a Sunday I must be a devil-worshipping child killer. I may as well live up to their stereotypes.

We got to the site around midday, and missed what was apparently a rather spectacular set from Society 1. The lead singer did the whole set (30 minutes) suspended from the lighting rig by 9 steel hooks through his back. Metal!

Papa Roach were the first band of the day I was after. Met up with BB just before the came on and warmed myself up for the later acts by kicking the crap out of some really nice people.

We went for a wander after that, and caught about 35 seconds (roughly) of 3 Inches Of Blood as well as Helmet’s second set of the festival. They were OK, I suppose. Not really my thing.

Food was had (roast beef sandwich – lovely), beer drunk (well, one small bottle as I was driving) and Nightwish waited for. And waited for. And waited for. Travel problems made them almost an hour late and they only played 4 songs as a result. No big loss.

It did, of course, mean that everyone else was on late. Slayer finally came on about the time they were due to finish and raised ******* hell in the pit. With each act, the moshpits got bigger and bigger. Absolutely ******* intense. If I had a criticism, they seemed to play about half a set of fairly heavy (and therefore slow) numbers.

Miaculously I managed to find Anni in the crowd afterwards and announced that as I felt a bit ill, I’d sit Slipknot out and just enjoy the stage show.

Then the pit opened. And, lo, but it was awe-inspiringly enormous. And I couldn’t resist and was dragged in by the forced of temptation. A circle a good 20 yards in diameter was formed, the opening chords sounded over the speakers and – I would guess – 100 ******* nutjobs (myself included) charged into the middle. It was like the battle scenes in Braveheart or Gladiator just with much better music, and slightly more carnage.

Dust flew along with the fists and feet. Anni complained that it was my fault she couldn’t see half the show because of the dust cloud. I hope she didn’t miss the flames, the rising side drumkits or the rather spectacular drum solo involving a flipping/rotating drumkit. Oh, and the amazing full rainbow that appeared over the opposite end of the venue. Liam had wandered off to see Therapy? as he’d missed them the last time they played a festival. Something about being in about 18 pieces in a hospital bed at the time.

I kept meeting the same people in the pits. What a ******* great bunch. Like one of them said, you get one weekend a year to blow everything out of your system. Wail the living ***** out of someone twice your size and hug him like he’s your best mate afterwards. Never a truer word.

There was one lad who kept running up to me, shouting “MOSH!!!” and rubbing his hand over the name on the back of my shirt. It felt good to be wanted.

Another spent every pit trying to upend me and take my legs out from under me. I am proud to say that as far as I’m aware, I’m the only person he wasn’t successful with all weekend. A worthy opponent!

The guy who got knocked out during Trivium also kept appearing, and I met more random Geordies than you could shake a stick at.

******* brilliant.

I decided to skip System of a Down in favour of Motorhead. I’ve never seen Lemmy and crew live before, and System are on at Graspop anyway so it made sense. They played a short set, starting late and finishing early and I only knew three songs. Still, hearing Ace of Spades as it’s meant to be heard (live and ******* loud) but a whacking ****-eating grin on my face that even the rain, cold and pain in my aching feed couldn’t wipe away.

Lemmy signed off with a trademark “We are Motorhead and we play rock and ******* roll!!!”. Someone should tell this to previously-mentioned Velvet Revolver who are under the impression that that’s what they do. Well, they don’t. Motorhead do. With bollocks on. Hairy, tattooed bollocks, at that.

I walked round the meet everyone and System were still on, courtesy of Nightwish’s delay. I caught maybe 7 or 8 tracks, including Lost in Hollywood which came as a surprise being such a slow song. Good stuff and I’m looking forward to seeing them again in a couple of weeks.

A troll up the hill to the Dunlop tyre (and a very nice overpriced burger) to wait for Anni and Liam to appear netted a nice circular end to the weekend. I bumped into the same Geordies I’d got talking to right at the start of the Friday!

Liam eventually arrived having walked via ******* Peru or somewhere and we departed. Slowly, and with aching limbs. Knackered but ******* deleriously happy.

Same time next year, folks?

At last!

Had some fun with the whole Download thing. Sadly, Steph can’t come with us as her work very kindly decided not to let her have the time off that she booked a few weeks ago. ********.

Since Monday we’ve been trying to shift the spare ticket so she’s not out of pocket. eBay, the Download web site, going through phone books, email lists, asking friends to ask friends… A nightmare.

Finally, Steph called to say a guy at work would take it. I talked to him and we sorted out train times, he went into town and got his tickets. And then his mother went bugfuck that he was planning on throwing a sickie, threatened to chuck him out of the house.

One of Anni‘s mates was getting tempted, but has found out that his other half is pregnant and they have an appointment for some scans at the weekend.

Andy is only interested in Garbage and Feeder, and had appointments elsewhere over the weekend so couldn’t manage the Sat/Sun.

Finally, in stepped Liam at the 22 1/2th hour (counting down). And Andy’s decided to get a Friday day ticket and come with as well.

*phew*

I’d still rather be camping (Anni insisted on somewhere she could shower every night so we miss out on the funfair, movie theatre, 5-a-side, chance to get pissed 24 hours a day), but a Travelodge actually works out cheaper between four.

Looks set for a good weekend. And a nice warmup for Graspop with Dawn!

And with that, I bid you adyeaurgh. I return sometime silly on Monday morning and will post stuff… after that.

Be careful, kids

So the conversation in work turned to skin complaints, rashes, STDs and so forth. As it does. Hey, we’re busy people. We need our distractions.

B was talking about some fit Swedish au pair one of her mates had to burst out and told her she had “blood in her wee wee” and wanted to ring her mum at silly o’clock at night. R apparently used to have some kind of exczema that spread stupidly easily if you scratched it.

I’ve only ever had one sexually-related skin rash. It was itchy as hell. Little white dots around inflamed red skin. I didn’t bother going to the doctors – it seemed to settle itself down.

I put my arm in a patch of nettles while I was shagging someone outdoors.

Still, it could have been worse… I could have been running around trying to find bay leaves to rub on my genitals. “It’s swollen and needs rubbed and it won’t go down!”

Instant arrest.

So there you go, kids. Always practise safe sex – put a blanket down before shagging in a field. Or don’t do it at night, so you can at least see what you’re fumbling around in.

Poo woe

Is it natural to be able to half-fill an entire loo with poop? I just had one of those “cold sweat go go go” moments and had to peg it to the lavvy. Twenty minutes and some stomach cramps later and the curled log was about halfway up the sides. I’d suspect the rest was already exploring the U-bend.

I really shouldn’t have dinner around 11pm. I’m sure it’s not doing my digestion any good.

Mind you, it killed a few minutes before hometime.

Wrong kind of “fit”

This fitness lark is dangerous. A lass at the gym had a fit today. Not over their prices, either.

She walked onto one of the running machines, then seemed to change her mind and wandered over to one of the floor mats, lay down and looked like she was stretching.

Thing is, a minute or two later and she’d kind of stopped. No movement.

Eek.

The staff, though, were pretty quick to sort her, though I was concerned that they didn’t put her into a recovery position. She was obviously fitting, though (tensing, then untensing) so she’d likely have thrown herself out of position anyway.

An ambulance was called, but by the time they were on their way she’d regained consciousness and was acting perfectly well, although was rather embarassed.

It seems she’s had these things since she was a kid, and had her medication changed recently. She’s in there at lunchtime, the same as me, and is always by herself. She now knows about five people there fairly well, so we’ll keep an eye out for her in future.

And to think, I whinge if my leg hurts a bit the day after. Yeesh.

I think he may be gay

I was having a bit nosey around the network and found someone’s mp3 collection on their laptop. He’s got about 12 Britney Spears tracks and a dozen by Rachel Stevens.

The sad bastard.

Utter bastard

Anyone remember that American **** a few months ago who shot a police officer dead in cold blood? While he begged for his life? The one they caught in a hotel in Gateshead a short while later?

Well, when they arrested him, theh found £6000 or so on him which was impounded. Eventually it was determined that there was no proof that it was illegally earned and after a court case yesterday, Mr Murdering ******* Scumbag (also wanted by the FBI) had it returned.

So far, so shitty. But check the bottom of the first news story above. Does anyone around here want to admit to me that they’re one of the dumb ***** who gave him “overwhelming support”? And if so, what the hell for?

Look – this stain of **** killed an innocent man, an unarmed man who was no threat to him. A man with a wife and children. He then goes on to whinge about his money. Look, it’s costing us a fortune to keep this bastard locked away, the court case cost money, the reparations to his widow will have cost.

In a fairer world, Captain **** would be stripped of everything. His money, his clothes, his ******* skin. His right not to be buggered with a glass-encrusted baseball bat. The works.

Sadly, there are far too many do-gooders out there who want people to have a “second chance”. Did he give the PC a second chance? Did he ****. This **** deserves to be beaten black and blue every day from now until he dies from painful internal injuries, or being unable to eat. Whatever, I could be inventive.

Instead, he’s being put in a jail – at our expense. He’ll have food and TV – at our expense. Access to study aids – at our expense. Because he’s a cop-killer he’ll also be quite high-ranking within the prison system, so he’s not likely to get the shivving he deserves.

Vote me for world leader. Anyone guilty of a crime like that will have to be shackled to a table, face the victim’s family and – if they can’t work up the anger to beat the living crap out of him – pass him on to an angry mob. They’d all be volunteers and would have to make their own way to wherever he was being held. This would mean little expenditure by the state, and a guarantee that they were there to really give him a hiding.

Oh, and as world leader, I’d have first go. Knackers in a vice would be a good start. Just until they popped.

Now, anyone care to stand up and say they gave him support now? Or maybe he’s just full of ***** and nobody really gave a ****.

Nice person

Congratulations to smellyourmum.com for being honest. I spotted a fault on one of their t-shirts, and received a swift reply. OK, they can’t fix the problem, but at least they admitted they’d cocked up!

I’m not normally one to advertise, but they sell the shirts to help fund their band and they’re nice and cheap. I’ve bought two shirts off them already and I’ve lost count of the number of others I want! I guess in this case, I’ll definitely have to go and look for a different Sunday shirt, though.

My original mail:

Folks,

First off, thanks for the shirts I’ve already bought. My only problem is you have far too many other good ones… Thing is, one of the ones I want is the “Satan oves You” shirt, but there’s a teeny problem with it. The pentagram on it is upside down!

While the pentagram can be either way up for virtually any other religion, in Satanism it’s virtually always “single point down”. The following is a rather handy link – about halfway down.

http://altreligion.about.com/library/weekly/aa100102a.htm

Do a shirt with a “point down” pentagram and you have a sale 🙂

And their reply:

major cockup by me i’m afraid. i did two with the pentagram wrong and, it
wasn’t until i saw the screen when i finished i realised. thing is, we
would have to make a whole new screen and, as it is an old design for us now
(and, to be honest, most people don’t realise the mistake!), it’z not viable
for us to do it. hopefully you’ll see something else you like though \m/

cheerz!

Lord ZiON
Godfather of the SPiT LiKE THiS Universe >>>

This exercise lark is insane

You know that point where you work yourself to the point you feel sick? I think perhaps that’s where I should have stopped at the gym at lunchtime. This is not a good way to impress the fit ladies in their skin-tight leotards. Although, fortunately, they do seem to wipe clean fairly easily.

Thank you for small blessings. At least I don’t need to worry about other people’s dry cleaning.

However, there is one plus side to all this working out (other than getting to see women sweating and panting without having to pay them or get them drunk first) – I’m sleeping rather well. Or at least, I’m sleeping deeply, because I’m knackered.

Unfortunately, this is coupled with waking up every time I roll over due to the agonising pain in my torn muscles.

Ow.

Mind you, I’m running on a profit now. Some muppet left their quid deposit in the locker so I pinched it. Bwahahaha! Now watch me do the same next week.

Film reviews from on high

I just got detroit Rock City back off Paul at work (recommended, by the way – very funny film) and thought I’d have a quick shufty on the net for reviews. Specific kinds of reviews. You see, it’s somewhat critical of organised religion (in particular one kid’s domineering bible-bashing mother), so I was curious to see how some of the christian web sites responded to it.

Thing is, most of the sites are awful. One didn’t have it, one required subscription, one had no search facility and another was blocked by our work’s SurfControl software for hosting inappropriate content.

So it looks like the devil does have all the best tunes. And film reviews.

Though it’s nice to see Layer Cake (a film I really enjoyed) being rated “-4 Abhorrent” on one site. Frankly, I think I’ll return to that site more often and keep my eyes out for all the ones they slate.

Mystery recipe

I bought some 6-packs of Virgin Cola the other day (buy one get one free – my usual means of food purchasing). “Great New Taste” is blares on the side.

And you know what?

Yep. It tastes exactly the ******* same as it ever did. Like Coke. They all taste like Coke. Except Diet Coke. That tastes like hamster wee.

World changed forever

Oh ****. The Other Chris, who posted in my comments a while ago, was right. Maynards seem to have bought out Lion and re-launched Midget Gems and Sports Mixture… and they’ve taken the liquorice ones out, replacing them with blackcurrant.

I see a letter of complaint coming on. I mean, what’s the ******* point? Midget Gems have sold by the shiteload for over 80 years. If anyone wants blackcurrant, they can **** off and buy Wine Gums.

My world will now never be complete as my liquorice Midget Gems have been taken from me. Wo is me.

Separated at birth

Doesn’t Malcolm Glazer look like Mortiis with a beard? Or that dwarf from Lord of the Rings? Or a rich, spoilt **** with stupid, smug little grin?

More food secrets

Yeah, OK. I’m bored and only have half an hour before hometime. So I was reading the ingredients list on my shiny silver packet of Orbit Professional White Peppermint Sugarfree Gum With BI-WHITE®. It “whitens teeth”, presumably courtesy of this BI-WHITE® stuff.

A quick look at the ingredients list reveals that their Corporate Secrets department have ****** up:

“Sodium Bicarbonate 0.1% (Bi-White)”

So, basically, it’s got baking soda in. Which apparently now goes under the name BI-WHITE®. I’ll look for it on the shelves.