Has anyone noticed that Catholic nuns dress a bit like Muslim women? Except, of course, the crazy ones who wear hats like this:
I suspect this woman is not a real nun.
I was fortunate enough to skive my way into the Henley festival last Saturday. It is a very smart affair. It looks a bit like this:
That last picture is of one hilarious rapscallion by the name of Ed Byrne. He is an absolutely top draw observational comedian (I could not help but ovate on my feet). However, he seems to have forgotten to update his website recently. The numskull.
The Henley Festival is essentially Glastonbury for posh people. There is mud, live music, art, mass inebriation: just like it. Only that everyone turns up in Bentleys. And goes home to Chelsea every night.
I can inform you, dear reader that posh people cannot handle being in a crowd. Everywhere you went you could hear tutting and infuriated cries of ‘ExCUSE ME! OOOH rEaLLY!” as someone got lightly brushed by someone in a crowd. There was outrage everywhere. Outrage that someone could not find enough seats for their friends; outrage that someone was trying to reserve seats; outrage that someone was trying to get past to get to a reserved seat; outrage that someone might get nearer the fireworks; outrage that someone else wanted to breathe; outrage that someone may be getting more for their money because they have found a seat. We saw two white-haired respectable gentlemen actually squaring up to each other, bald pates glaring, all over a bloody seat. These people clearly have no sense of compromise. They cannot handle the ebb and flow of fortune that goes with being part of a crowd, especially at a big live event. They have an alarmingly ferocious attitude towards personal space and a horrible sense of entitlement.
The next day I went to the RISE festival in Finsbury park and spent about half an hour grumbling as a pissed Australian blonde kept on lunging into us as she drunkenly reeled to Jimmy Cliff. Oh how the tables turn. Actually I would have loved to set her loose at the Henley Festival – thousands of gentry would burst their brains with tutting and the rest would all jump in the river with ruptured spleens. The river would boil, seething with apoplectic rich people.
The RISE festival looked like this:
As you can see, there were policemen, people eating watermelons, a very shit band called CSS*, and hippies drumming on wheelibins.
*CSS is not a good band. They play extremely souless electro-pop-rock, and their success is solely based upon the gimmick of having a excruciatingly pretentious front-lady who bops around tonelessly in shiny catsuits.
The problem with these free festivals is that they will just let anyone in. OOh reALLy, tut tut!.