19/02/2006 @22:33:03 ^23:30:38
Metamorphosis 11
Yeah it's becoming a tradition that I go to this thing. On Friday Stik came down from whatever godforsaken village he lives in now, picked me up, and drove to campus. Despite my best efforts we didn't get lost, and only had to change lanes rapidly at the last moment twice.
We got to oliford's flat and sat it in for about an hour having drinks and talking shit about people and jobs and universities and blah blah blah. His flat seemed quite small probably because the ceilings were quite low (at least compared to my memory of Whitefields) but the rooms were pretty big.
We set off for the union and to my huge surprise managed to get in without a fuss. See I'd bought my ticket online not two hours before the event was due to open, and that, coupled with the notice on their site that ID would be required and only a photo driving licence, passport or current university ID would be accepted, had served to convince me that I would get turned away. But no. The guy took a few seconds looking my name up on his computer till thing and having showed him my old university card (dated 1998, expired 2001) I was waved in.
Highlights of the next few hours included:
- Bumping into various people I knew and also shouting at a distance at people I didn't, like that stupid bitch who was I swear was wearing a belt instead of a skirt, and a number of other, similarly underclothed women. Ladies: I don't see how you can be that aloof and supercilious while parading around with your tits hanging out.
- Music: Unlike last year there was actually some drum and bass. It wasn't quite as musical as I like but still. Also there was some punk thing upstairs. What, guitars at metamorphosis? I surprised myself by actually enjoying it, because it was fast and bouncy, not the usual dirge I associate with guitar music. Oh and of course there was masses of trance and hard house but you know what I think about that.
- Fat Bitch Incident: There was a coven of identically-apparelled makeup-encrusted stage dancers, their skimpy tops adorned with the event's logo, obviously having been made especially for it. However one of them was the size and shape of a baby elephant. I elbowed my way to the front of the stage and tried my level best to heckle her. A girl nearby turned to me and tried to tell me off for this gross behaviour; I asserted that having big tits was no excuse for looking 8 months pregnant. While not quite on the hilarity scale of last year's writing "WIDE LOAD" on the screaming, bloated backside hanging out of a piggyback-riding pair of trousers in front of me, this year's fat bitch incident was nonetheless entertaining.
- Glowstick Incident: I made up for this later when someone threw a glowstick at me and I picked it up, waved it around for a while, got bored, and gave it to a different girl nearby, who only had one. I got a hug for my trouble; and as I always say, it's physical contact, what more can you hope for.
The event went on until 3am, an hour longer than I was expecting. I suppose this is due to the recent changes in licensing laws, although I didn't think the boring twats at Coventry City Council were in favour of extending the hours places could open. By this time both my companions had retired as they both had to get up the following day. I walked home; usually an easy task, but for some reason my legs and back hurt a lot more than how they usually do after an event like this, so it was quite difficult. Arriving home, I had some buttered bread, breakfast cereal, a glass of milk, a glass of orange juice, and one and a half large tumblers of squash. Then, collapsed into bed.
