That's the festival in Dumfries and not any biblical horticultural reference.
So midges be damned. We're having some of it.
I've been taking vitamin B supplements, started on the anti histamines, stocked up on the skin so soft that the SAS swear by as protection against the utterly contemptible little bastards, and in general every single old wives tale that claims to keep midges at bay has been read and committed to memory and I am ready for them this year.
All of this is down to the fact that they bloody love me.
As soon as I step out of a tent I am sure they fire up a flair that is the signal for them all to come running to snack on me.
I am the walking smorgasbord of tasty delights to midges. I must taste like caviar and champagne to them.
I can't exaggerate how much they are attracted to me. When all the lumps and tiny bumps appear from their sawing at my flesh* you could get a blind person to run their hands over my face and they would step back and say that it spells out TASTY in braille. My legs would be lots and lots of little tripadvisor comments.
All positive. Glowing references to how rich my blood is.
Utter utter utter bastards.
Well previous years it has been, and with everything from Gogol Bordello to Boney M playing it is shaping up to be another good one this time too.
So it's just some last minute packing to do, and then it is waiting on the house sitter to come along and I am heading out there to once more sacrifice myself to the midges in return for a weekend of fun.
*They don't bite or sting. They literally saw a small hole in you. Now how fuckin' fucked up is that? Utter bastards.
No comments:
Post a Comment