» Festivals

'Excuse me, but is that a crown of thorns above that fist?'
Last year, me and my mate Graham Hughes tried to think up of what would be funniest/most offensive flag for Glastonbury and see if we can get it on TV.

Now, to be offensive and funny in as few words as possible. It was easy being one or the other, but both? Surprisingly tricky. It took us several beers but we came up with a solution. Three simple words.

Fist.
Me.
Jesus.

And so it happened. dressed in dinner jackets and top hats we wandered glastonbury making the BBC's life a nightmare...

Anyway, we've been to pretty much every glasto since 1997 together, but sadly not this year. he's visiting every country in the world for charity but since last week he's been falsely imprisoned off the coast of senegal. www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2009/jun/07/briton-arrest-santiago-cape-verde and is due to go to court today

It’s a shameless plug, but do check out his website. www.grahamdavidhughes.com/ Hopefully there will be news shortly & he can continue on his his odyssey.

Thinking of you buddy.
(Mon 8th Jun 2009, 12:12, More)

» Getting Old

where drinks were free... (for the bar staff anyway)
There was (maybe still is) an 80s night at Manchester Uni that I used to go to/work at called Club Tropicana.

I started going there in my first year, by the time I'd left working there (some 6-7 years later) it had become a retro night and they were playing stuff that was current when I'd started uni...
(Thu 7th Jun 2012, 14:42, More)

» Winging It

The percentages game
Many, many years ago I did A-level Maths. Our class started off with 27 people in it. The jump from GSCE to A-level maths was too much for most and numbers dropped. To help us understand the concepts our maths teacher decided to go through homework answers in class and we'd mark it ourselves...

Marks suddenly improved - everyone (that is the 15 that remained) suddenly was getting 85-95%. Woo yeah - all we had to do was look intently in the marking session, ask the right questions and then tell her a mark. The only maths we had to do was calculate a percentage. Not too high LSJ, we don't want to arouse supicion.

Only that doesn't help when it comes to exam time. Bam - end of first year only 8 people pass, most scraping through, a couple more continue, the rest drop out.

Realising that we *might* not be doing the homework, our lecturer in the second year starts asking for the homework to be handed in... but not after we have marked it ourselves (read: furiously scribbled down the answers as she goes through them). By the time she twigs onto our game, half way through the second year it's too late. She requests our homework first, our maths marks fall off the cliff, 15-50% becoming the norm apart from the 2 genuinely clever types in the class. She realises that we are screwed and so's her career. We spend the rest of the time just going through past exam papers taught how to get 'easy' marks but in the hope that we might scrape a pass, but it's too little too late, we simply knew fuck all

End result: 3 out of 8 who stuck around for the exam pass (A/B/E - I was the one who got the E) and the teacher goes on LT sick and then takes early retirement.

Sorry Mrs Humphries for ending your career, but you did used to wear pop socks.
(Wed 3rd Apr 2013, 22:58, More)

» Why should you be fired from your job?

Ah, the irony...
Quite simply, I was fucking my 'married with 2 kids' boss's mistress behind his back.

As it was, I was about to hand in my notice to go traveling, the company makes me redundant, I get 3 1/2 months paid 'gardening leave' and a not inconsiderable redundancy payment, when otherwise I would have got naff all for quitting.

I'm now back from traveling and I'm still happily doing bugger all on the proceeds other than drink and party.

Result!
(Sat 11th Aug 2007, 10:02, More)

» The Worst Journey in the World

Returning home from Glasto 98
My First Glastobury, 1998. It fucking tipped it down for the week before, and contiunued for the whole weekend. If you were there, you'll remember how awful it was.

My solution? Go with a shitload of billy and be twatted for 4 days and forget how you are going to feel by Monday.

Anyway monday arrived and started our journey home to manchester Unfortunately, the other 'driver' was in too much of a paranoid mess to drive (was getting freaked out by me driving around corners), me I was hollucinating that motorway flyovers were infact hedges, but I was driving through them because I knew my mind was playing tricks on me...

Realising I was actually quite likely to die if I carried on driving with that attitude, I pulled over at the 1st service station, paid the £40 for a travelodge and passed out for a good 18 hours. best £40 I've ever spent.

Long term effect - Been to every glastonbursy since. Never touched amphetemine again.
(Tue 12th Sep 2006, 0:08, More)