That Festival Feeling...
At Roskilde one year a few mates and I decided to go into Copenhagen during the daytime and have a little look round. We ended up in Tivoli Gardens, just oppostite the main train station because a) we’re lazy bastards and couldn’t be bothered to walk very far, and b) they had candy floss and a restaurant shaped like a pirate ship inside.

We’re walking though Tivoli Gardens when a little kid starts to annoy the fuck out of us. A whiney little Bavarian uber-shit with a dodgy brilcreamed centre parting, screaming and bitching at his mother and any random passerby. The parents didn’t seem to mind or chose to ignore their son’s obnoxious behaviour towards total strangers. After a while this cock-knocker steps back and away from his parents and starts gawping at the scruffy, smelly, muddy men walking behind. He starts pulling faces at us.

Jesus, I realise, this is why festivals are so fucking great. You get a bit of a break from spoilt little brats like this and a world geared towards kids (anyone every been to a fun pub? I’ll let you in on a little secret – they’re about as fun as having a transvestite serial killer hang you up in his garage, pour pepper down you’re japs eye, and attach thumbscrews to your testicles while he systematically anally rapes you until you’re dead. Not very fun at all). The kid stopped, turned to look at his parents to make sure their attention was elsewhere, and started flicking us the V’s.

Now, what happened next was very unlike me. Looking back I'm still not too sure why the hell I did what I did - I blame it on the fact that I’d been living the carefree, hedonistic festival life of watching great bands, drinking great beer, and partying non-stop for the three days previously. Basically, I was completely relaxed. I was completely at peace with the world. I was back in reality and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. Rules? Ha! Fuck rules!

Noticing this little cunt’s parents were miles infront now, buying some useless overpriced status-tat, I suddenly lost control of my body. I ran forwards and booted the kid hard up the arse and nearly sent him into orbit. He looked stunned then ran off crying. My mates looked stunned too. “What the fuck did you do that for?” one asked, looking round and noticing about a dozen or so tourists were gawping at us in disbelief.

As we made a hasty getaway before someone made a citizens arrest I really didn’t have any other answer for my mate except: “Why did I do that? Well, because it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

Who’d have thought: attending music festivals, slipping into that carefree festival feeling, turns me into a little-kiddie-attacking monster...
( SpankyHanky, Mon 8 Jun 2009, 14:50, 4 replies)

I gotta say,
There's no behaviour quite like "abnoxious behaviour".
( Cawl, Mon 8 Jun 2009, 14:56, closed)

That's the danes for you
I always seem to want to do that to any of the kids I meet. The adults are fine. Just the kids.
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Mon 8 Jun 2009, 15:18, closed)

I feel this way about all obnoxious children.
And ones that talk too old for their age, that freaks me out, like Children of the Damned. Once the winter comes and the goth boots come out of hibernation, children of Ashford beware.
( Maladicta, Mon 8 Jun 2009, 19:51, closed)

I bow to your sense of morals
Well done my friend.
( jakedamusss I understand, and dont care., Mon 8 Jun 2009, 23:32, closed)