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You're cowards, hiding from the Doxx Demons. The spineless decrying the spineless.
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An anecdote. Plain and simple.

Submitted by Spam at 2008-09-16 17:52:14 EDT
Rating: 1.79 on 67 ratings (67 reviews) (Review this item) (V)

I was talking to somebody at a party recently when they remarked that I seemed to have a story for every occasion. This I feel, is not a compliment but still, it did lead on to a great icebreaker as everybody present was asked: What, out of all of your stories and fables, is you absolute favourite anecdote?

This was mine.

Reading Festival 2001: 19 years old.

Kermit strolls out of Sainsbury's with a smile on his face as wide and bright as his are pupils are shrunken and dulled and I move to pass him the joint before I realise that he's got his hands full.

"What the fuck is that?" I ask pointing to the football sized tinfoil wrap in his mitts.

"Chicken." He beams.

But it's not wings. Not nuggets or even a breast that he's got, no, this motherfucker, floating around on his hazy green cloud has decided to buy a whole fucking chicken from the rotisserie on the deli counter. I sit there for a long few seconds and appraise him with a withering glare while he just stands there swaying slightly with a beatific grin on his weed-whitened face.

"Gimme some of that spliff" He says after a time.

I take a long pull from the joint and hold it in my lungs as speak.

"Are you seriously telling me..." A long exhale as I blow the smoke in his face "that you want to walk along Reading High Street, past all of the local law enforcement and then through the main gates past festival security while smoking a joint in one hand and holding a whole rotisserie chicken in the other?"


"Why don't you just tattoo 'I'm a Stoned Fuckhead - Search Me, I Got Drugs’ on your fucking forehead? you do remember that you've got the better part of 4 ounces of skunk in that back-pack of yours right?"

"Relax, This is Reading, anything goes" He waves dismissively, "And anyway, It's 2 Chickens... I got one for you."


We're not drug dealers, Kermit and I, never have been. We are however, serial opportunists. We learnt our lessons last year when we were forced to buy cigarettes and weed for around 3 times what they would be outside of the festival compound and decided there and then that that would be how we funded our trip this time around.

I've gone for the safe option and my rucksack contains a hundred packs of Benson and Hedges picked up from duty free for about £1.50 each: RRP (Reading Retail Price) £7.50 on day one, £10 on day two, and whatever the fuck I want to charge on day three when all legitimate on-site sources have dried out.

Kermit, bumbling fuck-up that he is, has decided to gamble and gamble big. He's carrying half a bar of high grade skunk picked up in Bedford from some Indian Gangster types on possibly the scariest pre-festival mission I've ever taken. Our only connection to the dealers was a tenuous link via a friend and a phone number and of course they dicked us hard on the deal: 4 and a half ounces bought for £500 - £50 over the odds and a fucking joke when you consider the stuff was wet and the bag almost certainly a few grams light. That's what you get when you buy off strangers though and fucked if we were gonna argue, I strongly suspected the lead guy was carrying pistol under his jacket and I'm such a white-boy retard, I actually use the word 'pistol' instead of Gat or Glock or some such so it's fairly obvious to all concerned that we'd be punching above our weight there.

It doesn't really matter about the deal though, 4.5 O's of skunk shifted at £30 per 2 gram bag is gonna net Kermit just shy of 2 grand for a few hours work and believe me when I tell you that it's gonna take less than half a day to shift this stuff. On the flip side, if he gets caught with 63 individually weighed and sprayed baggies, we're both fucked. No question of personal usage: he's going straight in for possession with intent and I'm along for the ride with aiding and abetting.

Other than the fags, weed and tickets, we've bought nothing not even money - Tents, food, spare clothes and booze are all to be bought with the profits of our enterprise.

And I guess if you've read my calculations above and talk of weights and baggies and such, you could almost be forgiven for thinking that we know what we're doing but remember guys, we're a couple of nineteen year old pot-heads who have decided to get unbelievably stoned while on our way to selling more drugs then either of us has ever even seen before and one of us - called Kermit for fuck's sake - is carrying 2 rotisserie chickens because he's got the munchies. Everything about what we were doing and how we were doing it screamed amateur hour.

I'm thinking about all of this as we stroll past 40 or so local police on our way to the main entrance when I start to worry as The Fear grips me.

"Kermit mate, you've gotta put out the joint and lose the chicken."

Words I never thought I'd hear myself utter.

"Fuck you man, I PAID for this shit" he says between greasy mouthfuls. After a second or so of my silent gaze though, he capitulates slightly and throws the butt of the spliff into the gutter. "Tell you what, I'll put it in my bag for when we go through the main entrance."

And I relax a little because the main entrance is the only real hurdle we have to cross, once you're in the festival compound you can do what the fuck you want as long as you aint hurting anybody, and even that’s pretty cool as long as you do it quietly. All we have to do is hold things together long enough to get past security, show our tickets, get armbanded and we're free and clear. It doesn’t even matter if we seem too fucked up, cos let's face it, so is every other fucker here. The only thing we've gotta avoid is looking shifty. Which as soon as I think about it, I'm totally convinced we do.

Off the road and onto the grassy dirt-track to the festival the crowd starts to get thicker until technically, it's no longer a path but just a big fucking queue. People start piling in behind us and for me, that's it, the cut-off point, no going back now – you’d have to push your way through a couple of hundred impatient greebos. So we just wait our turn to show our ticket and walk through the gate. Sweating.

And it takes a long fucking time man.

And then it's our turn to go next and my whole world falls apart when the person in front of me moves aside and reveals the line of police sniffer dogs waiting on the other side of the turnstiles.

"Kermit!!" I whisper frantically.

"I know" he says.

"What do we do?!"

But it's too late and we both know it because the security guard bulls his way over and roughly ushers me through the gates before I can even come up with a plan. Ticket's checked, armband’s on and I'm past the dogs within twenty seconds that seem like hours because I daren’t look back at Kermit who has to run this gauntlet stoned out of his face with two thousand quid's worth of skunk strapped to his back.

I walk a safe distance away before turning round to see what’s going on. Sure enough I see Kermit bump his way past security and through the turnstiles. Even from my distance I can see that he's shitting himself. He's so scared he can barely stand and instantly he's covered in a thin film of terrified perspiration that already, has started to seep it’s way through his clothing. His eyes are everywhere as he shakily hands his ticket to the man on the turnstile and it’s fucking obvious there’s something wrong with him and he’s gonna get pinched.

But no. The man rips the ticket and slaps a wristband on Kermit with a smile and gestures for him to move on his way.

Past all of the sniffer dogs.

I watch as he takes a deep breath and adjusts his bag before trying to affect an air of confidence and march past the police.

And there’s a second there, about halfway along the line, where I thought he was actually gonna make it, that maybe the rancid stench of thousands of unwashed goths and overflowing Portaloos wafting across from the campsite may have actually drowned out the odour of the huge amounts of marijuana in Kermit’s bag.

But my hope turns to devastation when one dog, the last fucking dog on the line, starts going apeshit as Kermit totters along. I’m so fucking scared for what’s about to happen that all of the strength ebbs from me and I sink down onto the floor where I end up sitting cross legged with my arms behind my head and tears in my eyes. I’ve not known Kermit that long, fuck, I don’t even know his real bloody name, but I’m gonna miss him man, and sure a shit this is gonna be the last time I see him in a while.

A fluorescent jacketed smug bastard of a copper steps up and gently steers Kermit to one side. He mouths something and with complete horror, I see Kermit pass him the rucksack looking totally distraught. There’s no need to check the bag, I think, anybody taking one look at Kermit would know instantly that he’s been caught. The dog continues to bark.

Copper places the bag on the floor and slowly, so fucking slowly, opens that bastard up to the world to expose my partner for the dumb fuck-up that he is.

Straight away I can see the look on the coppers face change when he looks inside, surprise turns to anger which turns to amusement. An eerie silence seems to wash over the scene and I can just about here the “What the hell have you got in here!!?” when it’s spat out from Copper lips.

Kermit, drenched in his own terror now and with all the colour draining from his stoned face doesn’t reply. Just stands there swaying in the breeze.

“Jesus Christ” the copper says, straightening slightly. “No wonder the fucking dog went ballistic”

And it is no wonder, those fuckers are trained to sniff out the merest gram of hash, let alone 4 ounces of skunk.

I’m almost covering my eyes when he reaches into the bag with both his hands.

“Hey guys,” Shouts to the other handlers, “Check what the dogs found on this kid”

And everybody’s watching when he stands up and holds up the dog’s find.

A fucking whole rotisserie fucking chicken.

And the copper just holds it aloft, steaming in the cool breeze, marvelling as the dogs, all of them now, start barking the shit out of the place.

And I’m sitting there starring open-mouthed as he puts it back in the bag without even checking the rest, pats Kermit on the head and sends him on his way with an apology for wasting his time.

A fucking apology!!!

And Kermit, too stoned, too dumbfounded to actually move just stands there for an awful ten seconds before he realises that he’s got away with it and damn near runs over to me with the biggest fucking grin on his tear-streaked face.

“Good thing I bought that chicken eh?” He says.

And I’m too appalled to even argue with him,

what a fucking weeknd..bmp
what a fucking weeknd..bmp

Review This Item




Submitted by scourge at 2009-04-21 17:23:26 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by cheerios at 2009-04-21 16:53:52 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Berty at 2008-10-03 10:33:02 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

"Kermit mate, you've gotta put out the joint and lose the chicken."

Submitted by orphelia at 2008-09-22 06:35:25 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

Shut it, cock drizzle.

Submitted by JoeyG at 2008-09-20 10:14:52 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Spam (user info) at 2008-09-20 01:47:19 BST (#)
Ranking: 2


There are so many reasons why I love you for this. If You are ever in sunny England let me know, regardless of the logistics involved, I will MAKE SURE we get together for a drink.

You fucking legend.


e-mail me, my good man. I reside in the crack/smack/slut ridden cesspool known as 'Swindon' (locally known as 'this shit pit what we ended up in'):


More than happy to arrange a drink. Drinking is one of my specialities. We will get on like a house on fire. Except my house would never catch fire, as it's always flooded.

Submitted by thaumaturge at 2008-09-18 13:27:40 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


Submitted by creep_firebombing at 2008-09-18 09:03:49 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Good story and very well told.

Submitted by PayMeLater at 2008-09-17 18:20:20 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by orphelia at 2008-09-17 15:59:04 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

I like(d) Gene.

I want to call my baby Gene. Or Ned. Or Seth.

I have seen Mogwai.

Submitted by Sacrilicious at 2008-09-17 15:48:07 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I'll check Labradford out. A Silver Mt Zion shares some GYBE members, I believe.

Submitted by Spam at 2008-09-17 15:31:53 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

seeing as we're doing a post-rock sharefest, allw me to recommend Labradford. Very ambient and chilled out - similar to the quieter mogwai tracks. Also, if you have trouble with Godspeed, have a look at A Silver Mt Zion - VERY similar but shorter tracks and more 'radio friendly' for want of a better term.

Submitted by Sacrilicious at 2008-09-17 15:16:05 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I'm familiar with Explosions, I've heard of the other band. Godspeed can be sort of a starker, atmospheric, more apocalyptic sound (to me, anyway). Some of the tracks are 20 minutes long, and it might take patience at first..there are moments so quiet you might not know there's music on. It's definitely worth it, though.

Submitted by Fey at 2008-09-17 15:15:35 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

You make funny words.

Submitted by Sage at 2008-09-17 14:57:41 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I'll make sure to check out Godspeed...

Submitted by Sage at 2008-09-17 14:57:10 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


Isis is heavier but still has ambient influences I guess...they're awesome. Different from Mogwai, but good nonetheless.

I also recommend Explosions in the Sky and Six Parts Seven if you're a Mogwai fan. The latter two bands are instrumental (not 100% sure about Six Parts Seven being entirely instrumental though).

Submitted by Sacrilicious at 2008-09-17 14:52:17 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I don't listen to much post rock these days, though I do have an appreciation for it theoretically. I have heard Isis, I recall thinking it was pretty good. Godspeed and Sigur Ros are at the top of my list if I'm listening to the genre, though.

Submitted by Sage at 2008-09-17 14:48:55 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I love you, Spam, and I don't even know you.

Submitted by Sage at 2008-09-17 14:48:32 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Spam at 2008-09-17 14:19:16 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

Sadly, I had no idea of the genius of Mogwai at the time so I missed it in favour of sharing a joint and a bottle of Jack with a random dude I bumped into on the site who later informed me he was 23 stone pro wrestler called 'The Bulk'.

Now gutted that I missed it but I'm going to see them in London next month anyway so should be good stuff.

As good as they are, however, they're still a very poor man's Godspeed! YBE.

Submitted by Spam at 2008-09-17 14:11:18 EDT (#)
Rating: -2



Submitted by Sage at 2008-09-17 14:08:36 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-09-17 13:39:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

wasn't he the dude in the jungle book
No, that was Mowgli. Mogwai = fucking amazing band.

Submitted by Sage at 2008-09-17 14:07:24 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2008-09-17 13:31:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by sage104 (user info) at 2008-09-17 12:45:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I got to see Mogwai at a small club in Philly. It was fucking awesome.
Holy shit, not many people know about Mogwai and it's almost better that way but in some ways it's not because they are soooo hard to see live!! I bet it was fucking awesome...they are fucking awesome. Have you heard of Isis? They're pretty badass too...

Submitted by EmissionImpossible at 2008-09-17 13:39:28 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

wasn't he the dude in the jungle book

Submitted by no1hasdis at 2008-09-17 13:33:49 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


Submitted by Sacrilicious at 2008-09-17 13:31:24 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by sage104 (user info) at 2008-09-17 12:45:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I got to see Mogwai at a small club in Philly. It was fucking awesome.

Submitted by lechuza at 2008-09-17 13:28:47 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Brdn_Nkd at 2008-09-17 13:03:26 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Crystle at 2008-09-17 12:54:49 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Sage at 2008-09-17 12:45:03 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


Submitted by Sacrilicious at 2008-09-17 11:40:11 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

This is one of the best anecdotes I have ever read.

I'm in the US and I guess with multi-day festivals they have to make an exception, but around here (Philadelphia) they make it simple- NO BACKPACKS in some places. They check every bag, you'd probably never have made it in with those cigarettes here. I've also had open cigarette packs searched for joints before shows.

I went to lollapalooza one year when every teenage raver carried a backpack, when every girls purse WAS one..and they refused entry. I had to stash mine under a bush outside (a different) venue across the street and hope it was there 8 hours later. Clearly, it wasn't.

Submitted by bromide at 2008-09-17 10:57:37 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

so here's another to counteract that zoobie cunt

Submitted by bromide at 2008-09-17 10:55:50 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

fucking ace! +2 just doesn't seem enough

Submitted by forensicgirl3 at 2008-09-17 10:22:14 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by zoobie2000 at 2008-09-17 10:13:01 EDT (#)
Rating: -2


Submitted by monkeyswithguns at 2008-09-17 08:55:28 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Maddog at 2008-09-17 07:56:00 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

A good read. Nicely done.

Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 at 2008-09-17 07:00:23 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Fucking cool story, appeasing.

I was at Leeds the year after that, was fucking awesome! didn't quite take half a bar with me though, wish I had as I ran out after day 2.

Nice story man.


Submitted by Nellypaal at 2008-09-17 06:25:31 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I could totally go a rotisserie chicken right now.

Submitted by orphelia at 2008-09-17 06:17:18 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

+2 'beatific'.

The lower half of that programme could be any Reading programme 1990 onwards.

Except usually Raging Speed Horn get the crappy tent.

I was talking to somebody at a party recently when they remarked that I seemed to have a story for every occasion

You are right, this was NOT a compliment. I once worked with a girl called Gina, during break if you ever mentioned you'd been anywhere or done anything - or were planning to - chances are she had already done it, and twice better than you. People hated that bitch.

I will think about my own anicdote. Finding out my ex (not ex at the time) had kicked a man to death was a fun time. Not as fun as getting a call from prison to be told one of his fellow inmates had fatally stabbed him in the guts.

Reading is very commercial now, I hear. I haven't been since the mid 90's.

Submitted by Lamia at 2008-09-17 04:38:49 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Ha ha! good story. Can't believe Manics are on the main stage... they're always on in Radio 1 tent now.

Submitted by woolfe at 2008-09-17 04:15:56 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by experima at 2008-09-16 23:54:48 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


this was great

Submitted by X54 at 2008-09-16 22:43:00 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Dammit! I was trying to quit until harvest. But now I'm going to have to burn a bowl. Great story.

Submitted by SPECIALk at 2008-09-16 22:26:19 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

eels kick so much ass

Submitted by Grimm at 2008-09-16 21:18:14 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by BranDo at 2008-09-16 20:54:25 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

is pot illegal?

Submitted by Lib at 2008-09-16 20:24:02 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Good story. I want to go home and smoke now.

Submitted by skrapmetal at 2008-09-16 20:19:05 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

As soon as I read "chicken" and "reading Festival" I knew the drugpuppies were going for the chicken. Doesn't matter.

An excellent read. +2 for you.

Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals at 2008-09-16 20:08:29 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Haha that's awesome.

Submitted by Spam at 2008-09-16 20:02:22 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2008-09-16 19:42:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Great Story, really.

Also, note the relative size of "The Strokes" font ('Is This It' dropped about July 2001) to the size of, wait for it, Papa Roach! Hahahaha


funny story actually, the line-up was announced in April when The Strokes were relative unknowns. By August when this took place they were fucking huge and Mean Fiddler (festival organisers) started to get worried that the 8,000 capacity tent they had been booked up for wouldn't be enough to accomodate the fans so, at the very last minute, they were bumped to the main stage.

Lead singer apparently vomited instantly on hearing the news that, that very afternoon, instead of a playing to 8 thousand people on a minor stage, they would have to rock the fuck out of a 30,000 strong crowd instead. I caught the show and you could clearly see that the whole band were fucking shitting themselves throughout.

Submitted by Bubba2341 at 2008-09-16 19:57:14 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Agreed. B@W.

Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals at 2008-09-16 19:57:12 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

You know what? It really is.

Submitted by kaos-king at 2008-09-16 19:55:24 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

B@W quality

Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals at 2008-09-16 19:42:39 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Great Story, really.

Also, note the relative size of "The Strokes" font ('Is This It' dropped about July 2001) to the size of, wait for it, Papa Roach! Hahahaha.

Submitted by Falafel at 2008-09-16 19:31:19 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by SkullBiter (user info) at 2008-09-16 18:13:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

The Fear.
Enough said.

Submitted by Banjo at 2008-09-16 19:13:18 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Fucking Travis though! More like a bloody travesty! Should have -2d this for that along!

Submitted by lungfish at 2008-09-16 19:09:46 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Whatever happened to Evan Dando? Guess I could look it up.

Submitted by redskieslookfake at 2008-09-16 18:48:46 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Banjo and Spam

sounds like a cartoon show

Submitted by Bubba2341 at 2008-09-16 18:47:39 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Kermit rules, dude.

Submitted by Banjo at 2008-09-16 18:46:23 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Yes yes, very good and very funny as always... Well done old chap!

I'm still waiting for you to post about the day we met Spamalam or are you too embarrassed to talk about your total inferiority? I tell you what, I'll post about said rendezvous as I think this is a story that needs told.

Submitted by redskieslookfake at 2008-09-16 18:35:10 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


how did I miss that?

Submitted by Garrik at 2008-09-16 18:28:27 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Fear Factory ftw.

One of the best bands ever formed, IMO.

Submitted by Yozz at 2008-09-16 18:23:41 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by redskieslookfake at 2008-09-16 18:13:51 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Frank Black
PJ Harvey
Iggy Pop

Would have been good

Reel Big Fish are a bunch of cunts with trumpets. They would have got a bottle of piss.

Submitted by SkullBiter at 2008-09-16 18:13:10 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

The Fear.

Submitted by redskieslookfake at 2008-09-16 18:03:34 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Good stuff.

You should tell them about that time you drove your car into your moat and then Denise van Outen put your hip out. Before you lost all that weight obviously.

Submitted by Blinkish at 2008-09-16 18:02:53 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


Step aside, everyone! Sensitive love letters are my specialty. Dear
Baby, Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: you.

-- Homer Simpson
Bart the Lover