Reading 2006: Episode III

We were still in Reading, so we went to see the Streets.


Mike Skinner told everyone to sit down, so they did. Bloody sheep.


They were quite enjoyable and finished with smoke.


Afterwards, John and I went to get some Carling before Arctic Monkeys.


Sigh. There's always one, or twenty.


Somehow two o'clock arrived and we found ourselves in the Cabaret Tent. As you can see, Evan was very happy about it.


At least until a woman had hooks put into her back and started to sing and take her clothes off whilst hanging from the ceiling. We were asked not to throw bottles at her.


Was it a dream? Possibly. I had a hot dog.


Team America came on, but nobody wanted to stay to watch it. I say nobody, but there were lots of people.


John arrived back at the tents. He'd had a yorkshire pudding the new fashioned way.


Earth, wind, water, FIRE, heart.


I awoke. It was Sunday already. I glanced down at my hand. Can it be? Was it that time already? Yes, the Rusk Fairy had come while I was sleeping. All over my hand.


Have I ever told you the equation for the perfect breakfast? No? Good. Rusks + Bowl


+ semi-skimmed milk.


+ spork.


= Delicious Baby Food For Breakfast.


I decided to inspect my foot. I was very suspicious of this, but I'd be damned if a tiny bit of trench foot was going to ruin what was soon to be the best day of my life.


Sleep while you can, my pretties.


Evan brushed his teeth. How can I make that any more interesting?


The almighty power of the zoom, of course.


Me again. Hello. Little did he know what was to come.


Look at these silly bastards queueing for water. Don't they know they can just get it from the sea?


Once upon a time, a boy named Evan was born. On this day an evil fairy fuelled by rage set a curse upon him, he was destined to spend the rest of his life with tiny nipples that would never grow in size. Fortunately, Evan had three fairy godmothers who loved him very much. Although they could not reverse the evil spell, they were able to grant him a chest so thick of hair that nobody would ever notice his cursed nipples. And they all lived happily ever after. Except Steve Irwin, who was tragically stabbed in the heart by a stingray.


These swans suck for bread. It's not something you'd ever see on a "Come Visit Reading" brochure.


These men were swimming in the river. Have they no dignity?


Once again Wetherspoons was full, full, full.


I explained to the manager that I was Chin, co-creator of One Man and His Phone, and he sat me down immediately with a free breakfast. I'd already had my Rusks, but I didn't want to seem rude.