anarchie

I'm wearing a brand new corset, laced to maximum breathlessness and eating a big slab of chocolate cake. It's deliciously ironic.

I've been away for the weekend at the weirdest little rock festival all the way up North in Scarborough. Lots of sleazey rock bands playing- Hanoi Rocks anyone? Haha. The festival was on the grounds of an ancient castle on top of a hill with dead vertical drops down to the sea. Such a bizzare location and time of year for a festival.

The Wildhearts headlined, I'm not sure how apprechiated they are in America (if at all) but it was their 'last gig' ever. And it makes me very sad. I've only seen them two times and I'm gutted to have lost them after only really discovering them a couple of years ago.

My boyfriend who accompanied me has seen them well over 100 times. He has Wildhearts tattoos, has roadied for them in the past. I can't imagine what it'd be like to lose a band that meant that much to me. It hasn't happened to me yet. Maybe they'll come back. We can hope.


This is me sharing a moment with my close personal celebrity friend Big Bird by the seafront before walking up the hill to the festival.


This is me freezing my proverbial balls off. I'm a southern Nancy and can't bear the cold, and up North I feel like I'm sitting in a freezer. Brr!