Superman prevented me from marrying Steve Cannane, my photographer was late and they kept putting lemon instead of lime into my vodka. My shoes stuck permanently to the floor on no less than seven occasions, I had to remove my feet and a grow a new pair each time. I was plagued my hippies, can't abide hippies, and art kids that do not wash their hair or their armpits. I was teased about my plastic combs and the inexplicable excitement I experience each time the Freddie Mercury guy came into my line of sight (Freddie mercury guy is a young man, possibly twelve years old, who looks remarkably like Freddie Mercury) but overall a good time was had by all.
The first band I saw were good 73% of the time, that's not too bad. The Kill Devil Hills were adequate but The Holy Soul were outstanding. I'm headed over to my photographer's house, just as soon as I change out of my Eyeore pyjamas, to review the shots, based on what I saw on the tiny camera screen there's some great ones. All that remains is to arrange a time to meet Trent Marden from The Holy Soul to complete my interview. Well I think I also have to wee, I'll need to organise that too. A person simply can not wee wherever they are when the mood strikes them.