Glastonbury 2013: Not that much mud, really.

We don’t have internet at our new flat yet. Until that’s remedied, here is a taste (Thanks, YouTube!) of our Glastonbury experience. We returned yesterday evening and after two showers and a honey and rhassoul mud fizzy bath (rather ironically, for post-Glastonbury grime), I finally feel clean again, if rather browner and redder and more inclined to sleep in a proper bed. This week is full of harassing BT as they stood me up today. I waited at home all day long, feeling rather like an indolent housewife, to be at home during the five-hour time slot they scheduled the internet/telephone installation. They never showed up but still bombarded me with automated feedback phone calls and smug text messages, congratulating me on my newly installed phone line. Thus, I had to take the bus all the way to campus to discover a few nuggets of slight import: The roundtable Lisa Appignanesi is leading on Freud’s cultural legacy takes place a full four days later than I thought, and I begin my stint as a volunteer vegan/vegetarian cook at an environmental non-profit on Saturday.

More on Glastonbury later, including photos – I forgot my fully charged camera battery but remembered my camera, so you’ll be enjoying £5 disposable camera shots – as well as stories in gruesome, delectable detail about the guy who farted on me before the Rolling Stones, and how I puked into a long-drop port-a-loo before Kenny Rogers. I promise it will also feature happy stories as well. I promise.

More videos of some of my favorite acts from Glastonbury, after the cut. Both weird and wonderful things to be found.

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