Who’s going? We are, and we’re towing the monstrosity that is Wayne Manor.
You wouldn’t know it from the camera trickery in his films, but Christian Bale is actually 70 feet tall. Also, there’s an entire wing of the tent cut out of the picture. It’s seriously massive. We reckon it’ll hold in the region of 500 people but obviously we’ll need to run stress tests, so feel free to shanghai some friends and head along of an evening. (If you’re on Facebook, you can even make it official.)
There will be signposts.
Other late-night entertainment includes Antics in the Fosset’s Circus tent, which will be a good old dose of sweaty indie choonage guaranteed to get your gizzards in a right dancy funk. The silent disco is always a laff riot too, if for no other reason than it’s great fun trying to figure out what channel everyone’s on. What else? Oh I don’t know, but one thing about EP is that you’re never more than five feet away from an intriguing mash-up of fire, juggling, jazz, citrus fruits, unitards, flare guns, sparklers, swizzle sticks and drug-crazed Hungarians. Good times are rolling.
In certain tipsy corners of the world there exists such a thing as a “hogbomb”. This is a cheap and somewhat less tasty alternative to a jaegerbomb, assumably served on a base of Red Hog rather than Red Bull. It is perhaps the case that you should avoid such things.
Surprisingly spry this morning. No doubt this will change when the last of the alcohol leaves my system. I shall keep you posted.
from banging my noggin against the Free Rice game. It’s one hundred levels of vocab-testing madness! And for a good cause.
Actually, I don’t know how many levels there are. I’ve never made it past 49 (which still makes me pretty smart and handsome if you ask me) and it gets damn punishing. I hope the skinny bastards know what I’m going through here just so they can have their leisurely brunch in the sun.
In other news I remain superlatively tired, having never gotten around to a proper night’s sleep since Batman Weekend. Or long before, for that matter. Still: no time. There’s celebratory Antics to hit tonight, podcasting tomorrow and whatever’s going on on Friday on Friday. I shall trust in jaegerbombs and ProPlus to get me through.
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