Christy.
I was at my first ever festival (Reading), at the tender age of 16, and was having a super time doing lots of shit drugs and drinking cider. Then along came Jimbob...

Jimbob was camping next to us. He was about 18 with a silly haircut, baggy trousers and a brightly coloured tie that hung loosely over his hawaiian shirt. I was in love. On the last night we all had a party, I drank a ridiculous amount of Ye Olde English and we went for a walk around, starting rumours, looking for free food (we were wandering around shouting "FREEE FOOOOD" and managed to gain about 20 comrades, a rusk and a handful of peanuts out of somebodys pocket this way).

I digress. According to my friends, at some point during this walk (I remember little) I asked Jimbob, quite casually, what he would do if I didnt have any pants on. Poor bastard, I probably ruined his weekend with that one. If you're reading this Jimbob, I'm extremely sorry, I havent drank cider since.

I also got him to write his email address on my arm, I woke up the next morning with an uninteligible scrawl and still havent figured out wether it was readable before sleeping.
( SugarSpunSister Yeah, whatever, Fri 13 Apr 2007, 12:01, Reply)