Back from All Tomorrow's Parties with a little baby made from beer and burgers in my belly. I deflated faster than I can de-bloat. Someone else's make up had been all over my clean sheets and we had chalets worse than I knew existed. Lloyd said it was 'like Auschwitz' but their's had killer bunk beds so they were one up on us.
I'd been reading Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh on the way down south. 'Each of the angels carried her wings in a little black box like a violin case' in the first chapter hung tightly onto the coat tails of my imagination everytime a musician pranced past. I missed a lot of the bands due to having too good a time with the boyfriend round the corner (accidentally convenient placing of our separately booked chalets being high five worthy, most certainly). But Pavement were swell and I wish Monotonix's set hadn't been cut short, real short. I was kinda enjoying sitting cross-legged on the floor due to overzealous security measures. It felt like assembly just got good.
The following weapon has been deployed today to help me re-enter a world where I am living.