posted on Apr, 27 2016 @ 06:41 PM
a reply to: Skid Mark
Festival hangovers...those are magical.
All the world feels as if it had been festooned in cotton wool, every face appears to smile in companionship and knowledge of ones situation, and all
the while one floats, like a balloon caught in a whimsical breeze, from tent opening to the first bladder evacuation of the day, until the first whiff
of bacon issues from the vendors fifty yards distant, calling, insisting that your next port of call, once last nights cider is fully expunged, will
be a bacon butty and a cup of tea.
I love those hangovers.