Paging Platypus

yeah, well, likesay. next year, I reckon, after I do a top-end rebuild on
the bike over winter. Hmmm. wonder if I can get a set of 750 pots for it?

 

My aim at Glasto (same era) was to shite as much as possible on arrival
and constipate for the rest of the time. Some other fuckers must've had
the same idea but couldn't quite make it, as on the Sunday morning it
would be a common thing to hear the sounds of disgust as people woke up
to find a jobbie in front of their tent flaps. I never heard of a
phantom shiter being caught in the act - stealthy bastards.

The bogs at the Henge were just open air post-holes in the ground and
worked quite well. Everybody minded their own business...

 

The 7am train back from Reading to Waterloo a couple of years ago, after
the festival. I didn't see what was in the toilet, because the moment
anyone dared to even try and open the door, everyone at that end of the
carriage was trying not to vomit.

Amazing how despite 20 or 30 people all going "ffs, *don't* open the
door", everyone who came up tried to go in. Every one walked away white
as a sheet.

 

[snip considerably more detail than I ever wanted to know]

I don't find that at all surprising.

Regards,

Simonm.