NOT GOING TO GLASTO

The simple pleasure of sleeping in your own bed this weekend, knowing that all the daft knackers at Glastonbury will be drowning in a sea of mud and their own shit whilst standing on top of a slurry hill trying to get signal on the mobile to let their mates know they are 1.5 miles away and have got fuck all chance of making it to the third row in front of The Pyramid stage to see the one band they came to see because they've ended up taking ectasy with a 45 year old woman wearing a red indian outfit.
*breathes*