Welcome to Leicester

Goooodafternoon, bloggers. I've been up about an hour, maybe two. Becca's comfy to sleep with.. Okay, that sounded filthier than it was supposed to. Oh well :')
Our Harry Potter Marathon turned into a Harry Potter and the Philosphers Stone watching, then sleep. LOLOL. Coss moshing takes it out of you. I now have a massive red mark on my foot from where someone stamped on it in stilletoes, and a lump on my head from where a bottle hit me. Aaaaand bruises on my back from Katie and Mollie's deathpunching. EPIC.
Anyway. Fucking gig. Last night.

Me and Becca turned up just as Canada Water had finished their set. Which was a bit of a piss take, as we spent £14 to get in. But the another band came on, I think it was Casio Kid, and it was like "YEAHFUCKINGMENTAAAAAAL!" And yeah. And everytime we went into the smokers 'room', someone (Ahem, Brad) started up a chant of "LET'S GO FUCKIN' MENTAL, LET'S GO FUCKIN' MENTAL, LALALALA, HEY! LALALALA, HEY!" Unfortunately some people took that too literally, and about 50 fights almost nearly started in the mosh pit. And then Amy Can Flyy came on, and Abi and Martha were singing along coss Mark kept putting the mike to them. They are all now BFF's. Lucky. Anyway. That was all fucking insane. And then, like, everyone was like "Oh, I can smell weed" and we could. Coss some fucker was smoking a shittonne of it. I was kinda stood there going "Mmmmn, weed." AND THEN IT WAS LIKE "OMFGCOPPERS!"
But then someone was like "SIT DOWN PROTEST!" and the last band, that didnt get to play, sat down with us, and joined in the chants of "THIS IS FUCKIN' BULLSHIT!" And they were lovely, they were.
But then the cops were like "STAND UP AND MOVE OUT, GIG'S CANCELLED!"

And it took the piss, coss me and Becca went downstairs when the coppers came upstairs telling us to leave, so we could go get our coats. THEN the coppers came downstairs, and told us to leave again. I was like 'WTFDUDE, stop following us!'. So we went back upstairs (Since that was the way we needed to go to leave) AND ONCE MORE, the cops followed us and repeat their warning that we needed to leave.

So, then, like, finally we were stood outside. And we got talking to the last band's promotional dude (Who was wearing an Amy Can Flyy badge, on his hat, bless). He'd been there since two o'clock, waiting for the last band. And he was really, really pissed off that they hadn't played. So Becca gave him a fag and he kind of like worshipped her for a little bit. Which was nice. And then we waited outside Subway for a little bit with Katie and her mummy. And Katie's mummy is nice, she is. And then they left, and mon pa picked us up.

Which leads us back to the beginning of this blog with the Harry Potter not-a-thon. So, all in all, last night was pretty fucking epic. I want a fag.