Gettin into glasto

It's Glasto this weekend and the break-in blags are being taken to the next level. This is all based on the premise that when you're in - you're in, and that's when you can start to get your dignity back.

The only way I can get in this year is to use a friend's spare ticket. Unfortunately for me my friend is a female - it says Wendy on the ticket.

This morning I bought false nails and some lip stuff, gloss I think. I don't really know. Apparently you have to superglue the nails on! Christ... but the bit which cracked me up was last night in the pub: Fran teaching me how to "mince". It felt absolutely outrageous to swing my hips out and pout, but my god it was funny.

Pat's getting in inside a pat-sized suitcase which he has chosen for the occasion and has been practicing with. His practicing has gone as far as mum driving around with him zipped up in the boot. Unbelievably, here he is: