Well...
My first ever Reading Festival experience was (after checking wikipedia) in 2003.
I tagged along with a girl who I'd met at a Placebo gig in April and her friends, having told my mum I was going with a friend (who in fact I didn't see until the Sunday night).
I got on with her friends, they were nice as was the girl but I wasn't interested in this lot, I was interested in 'experiencing' the festival. This I did.
Thursday night, after drinking a fair few beers on arriving, I wandered around the campsite and found a load of people around a campfire.
I join them and strike up a good friendship with a lot of them, the drunken conversation flows well until I have an idea.
"The Polyphonic Spree are playing on the friday, why not form our own version?"
And so "The Multi-stalker humming spree" was born- the idea was simple, we all dressed in those orange ponchos that were given out before walking around the walkways.
There we found people walking on their own and started to follow them, following my lead we all as one started to hum louder and louder until the stalkee turned round to see what was behind them.
Then we turned around, looking innocently around and did that nonchalant whistle that you do when you've been caught doing something.
We'd been doing this for about 20 minutes (or 5 hours, I don't know) when we saw someone heading towards some cars, obviously intending to get something from their car.

*Now, for those who don't know, the cars are arranged in rows so anyone going down such a row is quite conspicious, so imagine someone going down this row followed by about 16 people in orange macs.*

We started our game but when the person turned around they didn't smile, grin or join us as before. No. They turned round and yelled "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU LOT THINK YOU'RE DOING? YOU'RE ALL FUCKING WEIRDOS, FUCK OFF"
This was brilliant. We fell about laughing before deciding that we'd not beat this and returned the the campfire before I bid the group farewell- I had to leave, much like the littlest hobo, and find other people to entertain. (Not before getting a certain lady's phone number though.)
Looking back on this, I do realise that it could be taken as quite sinister, but I assure you, we were a few people rather drunk just trying to have a laugh and spread randomness.

Friday comes around, I watch some bands and get some autographs from the tent (meeting the Polyphonic Spree was rather weird but Blink 192 were pretty cool) before heading back to the tent for sleep- I hadn't slept that Thursday night.

Saturday rolls around, again I watch some bands and meet some of my faves (The Cooper Temple Clause, legends), then I get talking to a group of people, have a debate about prawns and pass out watching the Doves (There Goes the Fear has since been my favourite chilling song).
One of the girls in the group I had been with liked TCTC too and would I like to go watch them with her? Yes. Yes I would.
They had already started so we had to nudge a bit to get into the outsidey bit of the moshpit, I turned to her and we started kissing, then she breaks it off and her head slowly lowers.
Are we standing on quicksand? Oh no! We weren't, as the sound of my fly being unzipped explained.
10 seconds later (not really, fact fans!) she came up and kissed me again, but this time with cockbreath which I tolerated.
Alas, when 'Panzer Attack' played, we got seperated. TCTC finished their set and I tried finding her to no avail. Arse.
So I wander around and I find people scavenging litter, so I follow these wombles to see what they're doing.
They're building fires in the arena out of litter partly for warmth but mostly to piss off security. I help them just as Blur's fireworks go off after The Universal had played. The two things seemed to go together naturally.
I wasn't really that tired so I walked round, found 2 brummies in an inflatable sofa with a didgereedoo and sat down with them putting on fake westcountry accents and greeting passers-by. Had some good conversation with them too from what I rememeber.
Sleepy time.

Sunday arrives, yay!
Again, see bands, go to autograph tent and meet a few bands, piss off the drummer from Hot Hot Heat there. Usual fare.
I can't really remember Sunday night, I got drunk (surprise surprise) and saw my friend who I'd told mum I was going to Reading with.
It was decided a good skanking was in order, so we join a conga line which was currently reciting "I like big butts and I cannot lie". Unfortunately I skanked a bit too hard and my phone came out.
I was devestated when I found out, spent the evening looking for it with no results.
A girl I'd apparantly met before let me use her phone to phone my parents telling them what had happened, then let me lick her out.
Put me off doing that particular activity for a while I must say.

Monday rolls around and clobbers me over the head with a hangover the size of Prince's ego.
I train it home, then try phoning home when in Cardiff as I'd like a lift from the bus station in Cowbridge and they need to know when my bus is due back.
No answer.
Now, I'm not normally this incapable, but my brain had taken a battering this weekend.
I thought that I'd never get home without my parents giving me a lift home (I live in the middle of nowhere) so I then rang directory enquiries to get phone numbers (having lost my phone) of my entire family to get them to phone both my parent's mobile phones to let them know where I was. I ring the entire family and get nothing. I get a bus back and then a taxi to my house from bus station, then I let myself in (no-one home, weird!) and fell asleep in the bath.
Dad came home an hour later, he'd been playing golf and mum had gone to grans with my sisters and the dog. Just as they'd told me on Thursday before I left.
(Evilweevil is covered in bees, Sat 6 Jun 2009, 22:54, 5 replies)

You tolerated her cockbreath and then wondered why the two of you got seperated?

( fuck shit up the best you never had, Sat 6 Jun 2009, 23:12, closed)

yeah, tolerated
didn't let her know since, as you're implying, she'd just been kind enough to acquire cockbreath.
We got seperated when the moshpit got crazy and collapsed a few times. D'oh.
(Evilweevil is covered in bees, Sat 6 Jun 2009, 23:48, closed)

i think you missed the point..
in that QOTW, even a lame one, is about entertaining folks... some humour, a quirky juxtaposition pehaps, a (decent) pun or two, and a payoff.
But not "i went to a festy and me and my mates were just crazy and we had some booze and these bands [insert band name here] are the best, no argument, then i went home and had a shower."
I mean really, you know the expression "you had to be there"?

it ain't just you, there's a thousand deeply tedious tales on here - but yours jumped out at me. sorry.
(micky2shoes has more shoes than feet, Sun 7 Jun 2009, 10:47, closed)

No...
YOU'VE missed the point.
This was my festival experience, as asked for in the question.
I've left out all the general shiznit that happened and kept the interesting parts in.
I don't do puns as they don't really interest me and I've tried to put some humour in.
I'm sorry you don't like my style of writing.
(Evilweevil is covered in bees, Sun 7 Jun 2009, 11:15, closed)

he's not the only one
"tell us your experiences" should say "tell us something even vaguely worth reading."

Otherwise it may as well be a list of the things you've ever eaten for breakfast...
( sanityclause is waiting until, Thu 11 Jun 2009, 11:41, closed)