Sunday, June 07, 2009
Strawberry Fair 2009
Woke up floating on the Thames with the regular post-cunted awfulness and had sad discussion about the wonky infrastructure in my partner's life. Took a couple of photographs and left. Then just missed two buses and one train and spent a lot of time worrying that my phone was going to run out of juice, which it did. Endured witless girl teen who would age me before your eyes if I listed the things she said that ticked me off but suffice to say having her feet on the seat was one and slurping from a can was another. Local knowledge invaluable as indeed I did get sniffed by spaniel at station so was glad to be one step ahead but annoyed at the casual deployment of CONTROL (further depressed by reading thread on WAN where someone says " ...well don't complain then when police want money to search people at the station"). These fuckers have no breadth and depth and take the world 100% as it appears to be, as if it is its own proof. Got home, charged phone, slightly amended plan with OJ Simpson to defraud Network Rail, debated shower but that was as close as it got. Bought 3, no fuckit, 4 cans Wrongbow from Blavs and rode rear rim of bike all the way to Midsummer Common. First year in many I have gone to the Fair entirely as a punter, which I worried would feel weird and it did a bit, but I fancied it also as a good opportunity to reaquaint myself with if not all and sundry then at least some and sundry, which is kind of what happened. In fact I had two meetings with Ken Of Bury and his missus Karly, who I soon found out I had rejected as a friend on MySpace, which was and continued to be awkward, especially as I did not help myself by trying to explain that The Fall were good, but that it might be a male thing. Apart from that I didn't speak to a soul who wasn't Bobby or Dave or Gavin O-Keefe all day, apart from a brief bit of banter with Lawrence from Number 6. I didn't see it, but Gavin said he got searched by a plainclothes cop. He seemed unsure as to whether the guy was really police, on account of his appearance and specifically his youth. Odd scenes at the East Stage, with succession of unappealing bands seemingly chosen at random from a selection of unappealing bands were interspersed with pretty on-it DJs playing Wonky and dubstep, bizarrely accompanied by a trio of fairly average "sexy" female dancers. Nothing is true anymore, straight up. Thought the dubstep kid missed an opportunity to play more upfull crowd-pleasing fodder but the Wonky guy was very good. We walked down there and Dave was like, "this is Roska" with a smile. Funnily enough Dave had arranged to meet some dude from Ramp who may or not be the guy that has a TheWhiteSugeKnight@ email address and also may be Zomby's manager, and just as the two met the DJ played a Zomby tune that might have been Spaceman or Gloop and according to Dave some surprise registered on his face, as well it might, O White Suge Knight. The day at the Fair ended with the three amigos shivering at The Festival Bar whilst I filmed a girl shouting at her mate on the phone "Sarah, I am standing outside the fucking Festival Bar! Well, ...fuck you!" and then another fight erupted and when it died down Bob interviewed one of the antagonists and his girlfriend and somehow got away with it. Today is wet and Sunday, and next week is fraught with clocky dangers. I'm going drink Guinness, and I barely care.