Pilton Pop Festival (Glastonbury) 199 ... 4?
12 of us managed to get in.

As evening fell, we remembered none of us had brought a tent, a sleeping bag, or basically anything other than a bit of cash, a fuck-load of hash and enough tobacco to get us through the weekend. Thankfully it was bloody lovely weather, so it wasn't too much of a concern, and the general consensus was that we would simply burn through the weekend on a blaze of massive drugs, drink, and sheer rock-hardedness

2am saw my best mate and I sitting at a beer tent, drinking and smoking and discussing life, increasingly incoherently as the chemicals took effect.

We decided that all the people and lights and noise was all a bit too intense, so we elected to find somewhere chilled out.

"Vagabond!" said my mate, "Vagabond!" I opened my eyes to see him proferring a joint, "Breakfast!" he said in the darkness.

I sat up, and dutifully toked away, as he lay back and looked at the stars, and promptly fell to sleep.

"Vince!" I said, shaking him, "Vince!", and he blearily opened his eyes, "Breakfast!" I said, proferring the joint.

This scenario repeated itself a couple of times, until people started kicking me in the fucking ribs.

"What the fuck?!" I cried, "What the fuck did you do that for you stupid cunt?!" I said, very much enangered.

Someone else came and kicked me in the ribs, and then had the audacity to apologise! "What the FUCK?!" I shouted, "REALLY WHAT THE FUCK?!" a new person kicked me, punched me in the shoulder, and waking up, I found that we had both passed out right in front of the main stage, and the mosh pit was forming all around us in time for the first of the day's acts.

Rude awakening doesn't cover it - I'm just glad no one pissed on us.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 30 Mar 2012, 13:10, Reply)