I'd had about three hours sleep on Thursday night before leaving for the festival, as a result of having far too much fun seeing fantastic Scottish group My Latest Novel at the Corner. On Friday night I drank heavily and partied hard, and consequently didn't get more than three or four hours sleep - I woke up at 7am because of the sunlight streaming into my tent and couldn't get back to sleep. Then on Saturday night I had virtually no sleep at all, due to a combination of heat, noise and too much speed...
Consequently I was exhaused by the time we left the festival around 11am Sunday. I was also on edge due to the homophobic mutterings Glen and I had overheard that morning from the group of straight country boys who were camped next to us. They'd only just cottoned onto the fact that 10 of the 11 guys in our posse were queer (as a result of one of our party, Danny, being particularly unsubtle in perving on them that morning) and seemed particularly unimpressed....
To top it off, the combination of the struggling air-con in our hired minibus, and me bouncing around in the back, made me nauseous on the drive home to Melbourne.
Combined with the ridiculous heat, the dust, and the ever-present smoke from the bushfires, it was not the best Meredith experience ever!
Nonetheless, I still had a good time in between everything else. To prove it, here's a couple of pics. Because I don't have a digital camera, here's a brief selection of photos courtesy of No Necked Monsters' flickr stream.

3 comments:
is that why we left early? because of those guys beside us? i'm glad i was oblivious to the whole thing until we got home.
i really did wonder what he was trying to achieve that weekend. straight guys are called straight guys for a reason but if you really think you're gonna be able to "turn" them then have some fucking tact about it!
hey i just bought cornelius' latest album, it's really cool!
I think the main reason we left early was because everyone was hot, tired and generally over the dust and wind thing, Darren. But yeah, I was certainly feeling pretty tense as a result of a couple of hours of under-the-radar aggro directed at us from the dudes next door... And Danny being a dickhead didn't help matters, as far as I was concerned!
Ah.. Nothing like a bearded ginga in ornamental head gear to get the imagination firing on all 8 cylinders.
Or is it just me with the Mask obsession?
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