.
Saturday afternoon at Leeds festival and I'm turquoise-jacketed up and wandering yellow bubble campsite watching out for trouble. There's remarkably little trouble on Saturday afternoons, so mostly we're just wading through ankle-deep mud while revellers sing The Final Countdown at us.

Until a man wearing nothing but a tiny pair of ladies' neon pink mesh knickers runs past us. There's nothing quite like the sight of a cock and balls squashed up into the smallest space possible.

Put me right off my sausage sandwich, that did.

The film crew with us loved it, though.
(and now for someone completely different, Fri 29 May 2009, 19:30, Reply)