Here Comes The Sun
The Lowest Most Awful Wednesday 19 June
The Lowest
The girls who read have never been so divided. There is the group who like their main characters difficult and their plot tenuous and those who like their romances horny and the personal drama tear-jerking. The ‘cool girls’ are reading the hilariously gianormous paperback of Big Swiss because it helps them pretend they are funny, the nerdy girls who are probably dabbling in polyamory like the Fairies that fuck. Both sides seem to think that this preference is an appropriate stand in for a personality.
I can only think defining your genre so stringently is a symptom of reading for clout rather than reading for pleasure. The book is a status symbol, and the smart girls, they know that you read the smut on your kindle and the cool books you carry around with you and never finish.
Most Awful
I’m never going to a music festival again.
Some people meet the love of their lives at a festival. Some people have a transcendent experience that stays with them a life time. I only know misery.
I think people that willingly go to music festivals should be the automatically signed up for national defence in lieu of a conscription policy. These people are willingly subjecting themselves to battlefield conditions. Waiting for hours in the pouring rain without using the bathroom to reserve their spot at the barrier for the one band they like on the line up. Grappling up mud slicked hills in heavy gum boots, sliding down when you reach the half way mark and trying again. Eating food from a truch that has been questionably reheated.
People that attend music festivals are built to withstand these conditions. I am only here because I am too cowardly to be the only one in a group of friends that says no to such ideas.
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