I am not feeling too great. The thing with all this booze and cold weather is it’s not great for not getting rundown. Fuck you double negatives. I can not not do what I don’t want to do with the English language WHENEVER I want to. For I have an upper second class honours degree in English Language Studies from the University of Central Fucking Lancashire. Bitch language got told.
But I am not feeling too great. I have decided the sensible plan is to drink some cans of Red Stripe while watching Albert Hammond Junior.
There is a girl at the side of me who is that polite she is reading Albert Hammond Junior’s Wikipedia page during several of the songs on a smartphone the size of the stage. I don’t think it’s one of those things where you go to a Wikipedia page to check a quick fact like someone’s date of birth. I think it’s one of them things where you go to a gig and you don’t know who the person is so you google them and read their Wikipedia entry.
I am feeling a bit better as these lagers go down. My friends and I talk quite loudly about how there is too big a gap in the relative physical attractiveness of a couple about 3cm away from us. If you’re judging me then fuck you because you weren’t there. The guy was a big, fat guy with shit hair. The woman was like a small Nigella Lawson. There is something genuinely disturbing about the whole thing. I believe he has her parents trapped somewhere. Or he drugs her.
Towards the end of the gig she pulls out a chair (PULLS OUT A CHAIR) near us and sits down and starts playing some word game on her phone. PLAYING A GAME ON HER PHONE. Right there – that’s why you’re with the big, fat ugly bastard. Well done to the both of you.