The Worst Festival On Earth

Registration for the chance to maybe get to go to Glastonbury opens in a couple of weeks. Well sod that - we’re not going to Glastonbury - we’re not that sociable and anyway, there’s no fucking electricity. Here’s how we’d run one of them things…

THE BURNING TYRE STAGE – Up and coming bands must pay their dues by playing a set on this stage, which is precariously balanced over a pit filled with burning tyres. One freak gust of wind could see tomorrow’s James Blunt rocketed down into a giant stinking fiery bath of molten rubber.

THE PANDA TENT – Controversial venue with an entrance but no exit, housing six giant pandas permanently doped up on faulty tranquiliser drinks. Expect to be heavily mauled; if you survive your loved ones won’t recognise you and your closest friends will deny you ever existed. Formerly known as the Kong Tent.

THE STILT-SHITTER – Protected by some obscure bye-law that no-one can accurately quote, this man wanders around the festival site for the whole weekend. Fine, if it wasn’t for his chronic diarrhoea and the unveiling of his anal torment across the heads and upper necks of the innocent for seventy-two tear-stained hours.

THE STAIRLIFT TO HEAVEN – Costing over half a million pounds to construct, this idiot’s rollercoaster climbs two hundred feet into the sky before ditching its human cargo in the heights of a dying tree. Gravity and nature’s weakness means that you’ll soon be hurtling earthwards and landing just behind the most popular veggie kebab van. Suspicious.