Rock Ness Pt 1

There’s something that feels hugely wrong about pre-writing a blog. Essentially the paranoid loon in me wonders if by typing such things it will determine what happens in my day in either some sort of cheap horror movie fashion or a more psychological Derren Brown NLP type way. More likely, I’ll be typing the same drivel now as I would at whenever I got up tomorrow anyway, so its much of a muchness. Another phrase I totally hate. Sorry for using it. Much of a muchness? What the hell is a muchness? Is it a duchess that’s eaten too much? The queen of the munchkins? No, that would be a munchness. Well whatever it is, having much of it would still be having some of something and therefore it doesn’t really work out the same as meaning something is of little difference or inconsequential. Stupid people making stupid words. Tiernan hate words. Tiernan smash.

So the reason this blog is pre-written is because depending on when you read this I’ll either be on my to or at Rock Ness, the festival by, you’ve guessed it, Loch Ness. It looks like it’ll be a large bag of fun, funbags even, with Leftfield headlining tomorrow, me doing three different gigs including supporting Kevin Bridges on the main stage on Sunday and many other things, but…and this is a big fun destroying but….the weather forecast say its going to tip it down like a group of enjoyable restauranteurs giving all their service charges whilst falling over. Hmm, bit too long an analogy that, but you get what I mean. Its going to rain a lot. What this means is that little old me shall get very wet and muddy, and I am sharing a tent with Chris Cox, where we will spend all night no doubt in fear of being washed away straight into the hands of Nessie who will eat us both. I don’t want to get eaten by Nessie. Sadly as Nessie killing harpoons aren’t allowed on the plane, there is little I can do about it, so it will happen. Sorry, positive mental attitude and that, I will get drunk and then it will happen. I’ve never been a fan of rainy festivals. Admittedly, I’m not great at festivals anyway and having never done Glastonbury or anything, my only experience of a mud hellstorm was Bestival a few years ago, where the mud was so bad it ate babies and destroyed villages. Probably. All I know is that I didn’t really like it. I was discussing with Chris how if this weekend is properly shit, then I will attend all further festivals in a zorb ball for the weekend, so that I can just hamster wheel my way over all ground until its safe to leave. This will be bad at Bestival where its mostly downhill, but if I can gain enough momentum, surely I’ll just roll back up the other side?

So expect Sunday/Monday’s blog to be mostly complaining. Unless I drown in mud, get eaten by Nessie, killed by angry festival goers for spending my entire set complaining about mud or something along those lines. At least it’ll be good publicity for Edinburgh I guess. But I should probably not jinx all of this. Just incase this blog does affect my weekend then I can’t wait for the bit where I crowd surf over everyone to meet Annie Mac (she’s the most attractive female on the line-up so I’m making do) on the main stage where she whisks me away to a warm mansion nearby for a night of passion and watching Doctor Who on the iPlayer. Fingers crossed eh?

Oh and in other news, the World cup started today (yesterday, sorry. This pre-writing is hard). I don’t really care. However, in an attempt to asses my manhood, I watched a bit of South Africa versus Mexico and realised that it was just watching some people in yellow and some people in another colour run around a lot, and was ultimately dull and munch of a munchness after all. I did get to drink beer while doing it though and suddenly it became a tad more appealing. Well, not really, but maybe I can just drink beer till its over whilst watching something else? Now that sounds great fun. Go World Cup!

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