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MUSIC & ART

Glastonbury bollocks fair

By society editor Wolfgang Bang

Posted June 29, 2013
glastonbury festival bollocks
Glastonbury: F--k that. (Check bottom for credit)

You can shove your tepees up your arse, says society editor Wolfgang Bang.


The obscenely overcrowded, minimally hygienic, maximum priced Glastonbury Festival rolls to a shit-stained shuddering climax about now.

With basic ticket prices starting at £205 ($312) plus £5 booking fee, £6 postage, the c--ts, £25 for car parking, £85 for a campervan or – and this really twisted my scrotum – £950 to stay in a pre-built tepee with other similarly elitist, middle-class rainbow Nazis who work in advertising no doubt, I offer a more enjoyable alternative: your own back garden.


DIY FESTIVAL INSTRUCTIONS
Prepare your home festival site by making sure you can't leave: lock all your doors then lose your house keys in a load of stinking mud and put razor wire around everything.

Pitch tent, invite some homeless drug addicts and winos in with you.

Withdraw £1,000 and throw it down the drain then have your snotty, petty arsehole neighbour sell you alcohol at £6.50 a can by throwing it at you.

Check the weather forecast to ensure rain then play nothing but the most teenage-marketed Justin Bieber-styled shite or Celtic folk fiddle-de-diddle-de-dum 'ethnic' crap leavened with three Rolling Stones tracks, Minnie Riperton singing Lovin' You and the odd Annie Lennox number from a tinny ghetto blaster nailed to a tree.

Shit in your shed.

Piss in your tent.

Continue with insane drug addicts withdrawing all around you and howling drunks eating boot polish and fighting on the patio for three long and tormented days and nights.

Festival!

That should fix you, you gullible wanker.

£950 for a f--king tepee!

For f--k's sake.


Chief hack's note: Mind you, I'd pay twice that if Boyhole were playing.


See also Bop Helium Bar, posted 26/6/13.


Wolfgang Bang
is a former skate punk who dropped the skateboard but remains reliably enraged by various aspects of modern culture. His oaths and verbal abuse still echo around the fashionable Portobello Road area of West London. His hobbies include long-range outdoor drinking, cooking and modern history. He spends much of his time in a hedge with an air rifle, waiting for the rabbits of mass media to pop out of their burrows and graze on the sweet grass of empty promises.


Picture credit

Top and thumb: The f--king Glastonbury Festival in 2007 by Domharrison.

For licensing information click the above link.



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