I realised two things when the festival was nearing its end: Your perception of a fun time changes through your adolescence to early adulthood and sleeping on bedrock is a whole lot comfier when you’re too sloshed to even care that you’re semi-spooning some dude. The former I realised when I was watching Metallica play on the second last day of the festival. At 14, being the biggest Metallica fan in town, their music helped me get through the trials of tribulations of fat camp. And much to my fellow fatties dismay, every morning I would crank out St. Anger and be like “Bitch I’m gonna burn some fat and avoid eat sweets like a motherfucker today!” Now I was standing there thinking when I could leave without feeling like I’d missed out. After five songs and a lot of picking at my cuticles I’d had enough. The 14-year-old Fatty McMetalhead had finally died apparently – good riddance… fatso.
The following morning I woke up at 4:30am. I went to sleep at midnight. I woke up at 1… and at 2, and again at 3. So waking up for the umpteenth time I was feeling awesome #sarcasm. The thought of waiting 12 hours for anybody to wake up made me contemplate rolling up my shit and wave the white flag of defeat early. Then I reminded myself that Kraftwerk, Queens of the Stone Age and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club were playing today. Not to mention the only artist I had listened to in the last six months: aussie youth prodigy Flume. Weighing out the pros and cons I arrived at the conclusion that washing my hands and tending my infected toe would be mighty fine right about now. Snapping my cock-string (What’s the clinical term?) at the same festival four years prior I was somewhat apprehensive about open cuts at festivals. So home I went.
Hopefully my editor won’t have my balls for spending so much time not at Roskilde: Getting a press pass for a major festival is no easy feat. But in my eyes we don’t need another reporter telling us how “adorbs” and “fabolicious” the Rihanna show was. So hopefully you’ve enjoyed my coverage of Roskilde festival, and hopefully Positive Magazine will be willing to send me to other future events – Mind you, I will probably be writing more about the catering than the cultural aspect. Unless those involve dragons, boobies and explosions.
Stay positive interwebs xx nick
Btw. If you like my writing I urge you to head on over to www.nicklas-kingo.com where I blog intermittently about being a bro in the gayest industry of all, and all the other random shit I get up to.
