Easily the most horrible thing that happened to me at this year's Latitude festival was having to take a shit on another man's shit. I was unhappy enough just looking at another man's shit but when I pulled the flush and nothing happened I just got depressed. Yeah I could go somewhere else but these are probably the best toilets in the entire site (it was in the Artist's Area and artists rarely, if ever, excrete). The cubicle next to me was occupied so it was shit on this shit or get off the pot.
It's disgusting but also too intimate for me. Something that has been inside me has touched something that has been inside another man. I mean, that's sort of more intimate than sex really. And so much dirtier, in more ways than one. I mean, I don't even know the guy. It could have been Jarvis Cocker's shit which is quite a pleasing thought but then it could be Carl Donnelly's. Nothing wrong with Carl at all, of course, it's just that from the moment I first met Carl I knew that I didn't want my shit to touch his. He's not alone, either. There are lots of people who's shit I don't want mine to touch. Write to me for a list. And I know it wasn't Ben Goldacre's because he keeps his. But it is someone's and now mine it attached to his somewhere.
One thing I do know about him is that he vacated the toilet very soon before I arrived. I knew this because the seat was still warm. Another piece of intimacy that the two of us have shared together. Unbeknownst to this complete stranger his body heat has warmed my buttocks and the backs of my thighs. I've gone out with people who never did that. I did my business feeling slightly raped, got up and left. I didn't flush. There was no point.
FUCK! Maybe someone else came in right after me and did a shit on my shit. I have taken part in a shit orgy. I hate festivals.
With the bad there must be a small piece of good. I met Robyn Hitchcock, an incredible songwriter who I have loved for 20 years. To me, him and Morrissey are pretty much it musically. I've met him before but this time it was very different because I didn't make an almighty arse of myself. I have embarrassed myself in front of Robyn so many times that it's just...pathetic. Robin Ince finds my stories of fucking up in front of my idol hilarious and therefore told Robyn all about them. Great. That meant when I met him he said "Robin told me your stories".
Me: "Er...yeah".
Robyn: "Pitiful".
I can't even quite remember if pitiful was the word he used (though I think it was) because I was busy making sure that I didn't accidentally pee on him or set fire to him or knock his eye out by falling on him and poking him with my stupid erection. I once ruined a gig of Robyn's at the Jazz Cafe because I treated it like I was at a Metallica concert despite it was a man alone with an acoustic guitar on stage. I apologised to Robyn the next time I saw him at the 12 Bar Club but this time a woman dropped a bottle from the balcony and when it smashed Robyn looked up only to see me. I hadn't done anything but I got the blame. This type of thing went on for a long time pretty much anytime I was in the same room as him. I went to rescue Muki and her friend Emer from a Gang of Four gig that they got paraletically drunk at. I was holding Muki up and trying to pick up Emer while they both shouted FUCK OFF at me. When I finally got the two screaming, swearing drunk women standing and balancing on me I realised I was in front of Robyn Hitchcock. It sort of looked like I had drugged two women and was human trafficing them. Silly Legge.
Nothing quite so bad this time, thankfully. This time I kept my celebrity embarrassment for Vivienne Westwood when I gave a loud "Oh-For-Fucks-sake" type sigh when she was telling us that the environment is "important". She looked round and disgusted. But you know what? An hour and a half of hearing her boring everyone by telling us stuff we all know justified by rude, rude sigh. Especially as she was telling us this at a festival that financially thrives on pretending to give a fuck about the environment.
I'm sure there was something else that happened at Latitude. Did I tell you about Pappy's Fun Club's cocks?
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