The main stage line up didn’t really spark any real excitement inside me, and I felt Simon would more efficiently cover the styles on offer, so I passed him my camera and told him to unleash his photographic fury. Simon’s acronymic title and nick name is SP, so being the clever bastard that I am, I generalize his taste in music and call it all SP music. It usually involves Vikings, the hope of a better day, following your dreams, and all the rest of that feel good make believe nonsense. The music is generally good, especially the faster stuff, but some of the lyrical content is just a little bit too much for me. The thing about lyrics within thrash metal, is that they are often incoherent and incomprehensible, making it difficult to understand their subject matter. I’m sure if they were clearer, they would probably have a similar cringe worthy affect on me. So anyway, not being all too interested with the music offered on the main stage, I went back to the tent to get some breakfast.
Simon is a very enthusiastic shopper when it comes to food, and I love watching him at work. He transforms the mundanity of a Tesco or Asda, into an edible playground of endless possibility waiting to be harvested. I have a rule; whenever I go shopping for food/snacks with Simon, I have to buy all the same things he does, and that’s why I was left with two tins of fish and a pasta pot double feature on Saturday morning. To make matters worse, I only had three pounds left (a result of drunkenly spending £30 on two Exodus records the night before), and if I continued my coffee in the morning tradition, these two tins of fish and double feature pasta pot, would have to last me for two days. I ate a tin of fish, hid four Strongbows in the inside pockets of my denim jacket, and had a bit of a wonder around the four tents, not looking for anything specifically.
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