LDG
21-09-2011, 09:56 AM
##
So, I'm at Reading Festival, and it's 8.30 on the Sunday morning.
I need to be at Reading train station for 10am to meet the missus, as I've kindly got her a ticket for the day Muse are playing. All is pretty decent with the world, apart from it being toilet o-clock, and I needed to shift my arse to get 4 miles into town to meet her.
Now. when you're camping in the middle of somewhere which is pretty much a 200 acre toilet, you're best to mind your feet in the morning, and tbh, I hate having to get fully dressed just to go for a slash. So, using my survival skills, I fashioned an awesome idea from a pringles can. This had been my savoiour in the middle of the night for the last few nights, and it came to my rescue again that Sunday morning. Two tubes I filled.
I led back down, and then the full realisation of waking up dawned on me. I'd be needing a shite pretty soon...when you're loading up on carbs all weekend, there's no escaping it. And I was full to bursting....I hurridly prepared myself for the day, put clothes on, and decided to use the long drops on the way to the car (beer storage and where the ticket for the missus was safely kept).
Did the business at the long drop (mountains of it), cleaned myself up, felt jolly well pleased with myself, and headed on the towards the car.
Rationed out a load of beer, grabbed extra bog roll, clean clothes, even gave myself a babywipe bath in the back of the rental vehicle.
Then it happened.
That awful feeling you get when you've had a ding dong curry and beer sesh the night before. Bottom of the tummy job, where you know you can't even fart for fear of your entire stomach coming out.
I was in the middle of a car park. In the middle of a field. About 2 miles from a toilet.
There were loads of people ferrying backwards and forwards from the campsite getting supplies.
I didn't know what to do.
Then I saw it. A haven. An oasis in the desert. A port in the storm.
Two massive fuck off transit vans, side by side.
What happened then, I will not describe. Suffice to say that I was hanging off two wing mirrors...and I must apologise to the owners of those vans...it's the last thing you want to see when you've spent all weekend trying to avoid it. Sorry Mr White Man Men :(
So, I'm at Reading Festival, and it's 8.30 on the Sunday morning.
I need to be at Reading train station for 10am to meet the missus, as I've kindly got her a ticket for the day Muse are playing. All is pretty decent with the world, apart from it being toilet o-clock, and I needed to shift my arse to get 4 miles into town to meet her.
Now. when you're camping in the middle of somewhere which is pretty much a 200 acre toilet, you're best to mind your feet in the morning, and tbh, I hate having to get fully dressed just to go for a slash. So, using my survival skills, I fashioned an awesome idea from a pringles can. This had been my savoiour in the middle of the night for the last few nights, and it came to my rescue again that Sunday morning. Two tubes I filled.
I led back down, and then the full realisation of waking up dawned on me. I'd be needing a shite pretty soon...when you're loading up on carbs all weekend, there's no escaping it. And I was full to bursting....I hurridly prepared myself for the day, put clothes on, and decided to use the long drops on the way to the car (beer storage and where the ticket for the missus was safely kept).
Did the business at the long drop (mountains of it), cleaned myself up, felt jolly well pleased with myself, and headed on the towards the car.
Rationed out a load of beer, grabbed extra bog roll, clean clothes, even gave myself a babywipe bath in the back of the rental vehicle.
Then it happened.
That awful feeling you get when you've had a ding dong curry and beer sesh the night before. Bottom of the tummy job, where you know you can't even fart for fear of your entire stomach coming out.
I was in the middle of a car park. In the middle of a field. About 2 miles from a toilet.
There were loads of people ferrying backwards and forwards from the campsite getting supplies.
I didn't know what to do.
Then I saw it. A haven. An oasis in the desert. A port in the storm.
Two massive fuck off transit vans, side by side.
What happened then, I will not describe. Suffice to say that I was hanging off two wing mirrors...and I must apologise to the owners of those vans...it's the last thing you want to see when you've spent all weekend trying to avoid it. Sorry Mr White Man Men :(