After yesterday's torrential rain, most roads lead to Scotland's largest music festival this weekend. I can confidently say that there's nothing on the 180 act bill that would entice me into the middle of nowhere for a weekend of soaking arse. I just travelled over the main drag via Kincardine and it's not exactly the usual jammed up jelly tight to use a Panther Burns phrase. This is opportune because Brother Patrick has conducted an interview with Tav Falco which I'll post over the weekend sometime.
Back to the festival though, we seldom have the climate for this kind of thing. And most of the tickets go on sale before the attendees have a scoob who’s playing. The dockets for 2009 go on sale this coming Tuesday, two days after the last note is struck. Of course, I'll watch it on TV if I can stay awake. Used to tape it and fast forward but I can't even be shucched doing that now. Life's too short and 95% of the entertainers are, in my opinion, something that begins with sh.
Not exactly sure what is on the agenda for me this weekend, another quiet, somewhat uneventful one hopefully. As far away from the mud and buck-ied up subspecies as is feasible methinks.
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