Rumble Strips At Zoo8 (a.k.a The World’s Worst Festival)

Good lads, The Rumble Strips. They loose teeth, smoke roll ups, wander around with carrier bags full of Kestrel and see a flat tyre as a good opportunity to have right old bloody hoot!

We grabbed this interview at Kent’s juvenile thug fest, Zoo8… arguably the least fun you can have outside.

Now You’re Just Taking The Wotsits…

Yeah, I know. Over two months. This is beginning to make me look bad. I’ve been looking at other blog sites and they’re all fairly regular in their updates, every couple of days there’ll be some roughly hewn nugget of internet-based information polished up and presented in a manner thats both easy to digest and at least vaguely interesting. You look through the Porter Report and every other month there’s some inpeneterable diatribe that’s littered with jokes so ‘in’ it’s generally only me laughing. But oh, how I do love to laugh on my own.

I’ve moved to London and I’ve started a new job, that’s about the size of it. It was all so easy when i was giving it the old Bonne Hommie around the winding lanes of Bum Town, El kapitan prodding me with a sharp stick whenever an update were needed, but it aint so easy when you bring commuting and corporate responsibilites into it. When Braintax spat ‘You won’t catch me on commuter trains at half past eight, A free line at half nine and yo, I’m still not late’ I’m guessing he never got the 0923 overland from Dalston Kingsland.

Anyway, I’m going to spend the next day or two amending my lackadaisical ways.

And that is how spell it, yes.