Hello, look at me, blogging. Who’d have thought it? But yes, it is me Alan Carr typing away at half ten on a tuesday. You’ll be pleased to know that I have dried out from my three days at Bestival in the Isle Of Wight. The Festival was one of the best festivals i’ve ever been to but oh my god, the rain, the mud. Its my own fault really I went as a giant prawn, well, actually a prawn star with flared trousers and a tight shirt that revealed two gold stars on my nipples and a giant gold star on my crotch, (I lost that doing a piss behind a biffa skip – oh thanks to the lads for taking a picture of that – i owe you one). Did I mention that I also had a giant prawn headdress with antennae stuck on the top of my head? Well you’ll see that once I work out how to attach photos to this blog. Sadly I fell over my platforms into the mud and looked like a giant shit walking the length and breadth of the campsite trying to find my tent. I swear I’ve got ecoli.
My highlights of Bestival had to be Grace Jones and The Specials, although I did enjoy Hercules and Love Affair in the Big Top. Hope you like my outfit. I felt I had to put a bit more effort in, because when i went to Mark Ronson’s birthday party I went as Madonna’s Confessions On A Dancefloor. Pink leotard and ginger hair, although The Sun said I looked like Mick Hucknall’s ‘Love child’, charming! That leotard wasn’t cheap don’t you know.
Although I had a wicked time I was glad to get home and put my clothes in soak and get in a Radox filled bath. It must be my age, but can’t wait til next year.