Infest-ival, A Guest Post By Jules Smith

Here at the Compound we're delighted to bring you this guest post by Jules Smith, on a three day assignment at a hippy festival, a freak fayre, somewhere in England.

Duty found me knee-deep in the English countryside at a hippy festival. Despite not wanting to catch any germs, I felt it was in the interest of the farming community to find out what’s infecting the crops and destroying the greenbelt. 

I went armed with notebook, pen, camera and a vat of hand sanitiser. And here I am, thankfully still alive but not without the help of aspirin and bottles of home-brewed cider to erase the alarming visuals. 

I’m only one day into this three day event but here’s what I’ve uncovered so far. Brace yourself.

Disco cutie. Wouldn’t you just want to take him home to meet your mama... 

The King. Actually introduced himself this way. I kid you not. He told me he was trying to take over the world and sort out American and English politics. Because naturally, a fruit loop with clothes pegs clipped to his crown is what we’ve all been missing. I don’t know about you, but I’m won over. God. Help. Us.

Bride of Dracula - Trying to eat someone's baby.

Fashion takes itself to a whole new level. Even Primark are slamming their doors. (WTF is he wearing?) Even the guitarist is stumped and he's wearing to sunglasses to shield the intensity. 

Get your frikkin hair cut and take that stupid hat off.

Look! A sheep! Shoot it! (Although in this neck of the woods he might be coming a cropper in another way when a loved-up hippy on magic mushrooms spots a sitting duck or "sheep.") 

Quick! A bear! Shoot it! Don’t pay any attention to the red, military coat on the left. This person has absolutely no comprehension  of “fighting warrior.”

I can do two hula hoops at once but …errr… I can’t brush my hair.

The infested, tantra, hippy love nest. (throws up in mouth)

And looky do. I can carry my drink around in an inflatable unicorn! It’s a five pound deposit in case you don’t bring it back. I keep setting them off down river with puncture wounds. Worth a fiver of anybody's money. 

I want to see how badly they cry when they run out of unicorns and I replace them with MAGA mugs. Heh.

SOMEBODY GET ME OUT OF HERE.

Jules

Chasing Birds

I didn't get out in the field over the last two days to chase birds and shoot them, but my buddies did. They shot their limit, and I'd say that was laudable.

Maybe their success was down to brush pants and Yeti coolers? Who knows, but what we do know is that both Yetis shot their limit.

Well done, team.

LSP