Hi Fi

The cats and Trotter have just returned from Hi-Fi festival in the Matterley Bowl in Winchester. They left on Friday afternoon in a small van that Fing had hired for the occaision.

As it had been raining solidly for 2 weeks they took their wellington boots, for fear of getting their tiny furry paws dirty. They arrived on site and spent 2 hours putting their 6 man tent up, it was terribly complicated and at points tempers flared, with Fing lashing Trotter round the back of his head with claws outstretched on a nasty swipey foot.

This done they got out the fold away chairs, put their baskets in the tent and arranged their rucksacks, camping stove, kettle and the tea, coffee, and sugar neatly inside.

As it was Friday there was nothing too do as the festival didn't start until the next day, so they got out a crate of beer, sat in their chairs and got pissed as parrots and talked utter shite to the other campers as they arrived.

Saturday dawned murky and rainy with a hint of mist thrown in for good measure, which Faggot was awfully annoyed about because it meant he couldn't do a thing with his hair. Giggsey Girl the stupid slug face had to have a resolve as she felt rather queasy and dishevilled.

They set off round site and saw many wonderful and amazing things. They saw people in fancy dress, people who were hardly dressed, People who could hardly stand and people who were so fucked they couldn't tell you their own name if you asked them. They had a moment at one of the stalls and all purchased a second hand fake fur jackets then wandered round site for a while in an utterly aimless fashion.

They stopped at the oxygen tent and inserted tubes into their nostrils and had a combination of vodka oxygen and blast oxygen. They wern't quite sure what to expect and were dreadfully dissapointed when all they got was a bit lightheaded from the vodka fumes up their noses. They ate vodka jelly and then all of a sudden the beat from the Electric Arena got hold of Fing, and the cats had to watch as Fing danced his crazy samba moves on the dance floor.

The went to the Live stage, Gods Kitchen and then the drum and bass tent, where they all agreed the music was far too frenetic to dance to. After several hours of hard core drinking they all sidled back to the tent and collapsed with exhaustion.

Sunday dawned with a hint of sunshine and the occaisional menacing cloud. Although he didnt have a headache, Fing took some painkillers, just in case, after all, safety first! They put up the awning and sat in their chairs and made a hot drink and were suddenly surprised by a strange young man.

The strange young man had been up since five and had apparently taken 15 vera's, he told them that he was a professional Hat Judge and said it was their civic duty to find the hat stall. He pulled some really wierd faces and then informed everyone that he could also calculate how many blades of grass there were in the field if only he had the aid of an abacus. At this point he lurched off, slightly to the left, and they all agreed that what ever vera's were they certainly didn't want any if it made you froth at the mouth like a victim of rabies.

The Sunday line up was by far the best, the pets watched Kosheen, then Shapeshifters. They danced to Paul Oakenfold, The Tidy Boys and Lisa Lashes. They danced and danced until their knee's ached, and still they danced some more. Then BK came on and the place went wild.



Tired of it all they decided to walk back and suddenly found the hat stall where they remembered the strange young man and their civic duty. Faggot bought a sailors hat, Fing bought a top hat, Giggsey girl the stupid slug face bought a flat cap and Trotter decided upon a beanie.



Tutz had become completely distracted by the glow sticks on the next stall and purchased some to take home to hang on her scratchey pole, and as a result was harrangued by the strange young man who happened to pass them in passing, lurching slightly to the right.

On the way back to the tent they met the dog who owned the dodgems, and a man dressed in a scooby doo outfit. They saw lots of girls in big fluffy boots, girls with wings on and a young man who was dressed in fab fur chaps and g-string with a large black cowboy hat on.

All in all it was far too much to take in and they went to the tent and collapsed in an untidy jumble of limbs and slept like the dead until 6 this morning when a very grouchy Fing made them all get up so he could drive home and miss the bank holiday traffic.

And where was Lulu I hear you ask? Why, Lulu was at a health farm having manicures and peicures and face packs and saunas. She is a little lady after all.