Inconsiderate tall cunts at concerts.
The recent slight for this particular hobbit is of course, Glastonbury - although the experiences are lifelong. Of Monsters and Men was probably the most infuriating gig for this tiddler swimming in the mud of this yearās Worthy Farm.
A few of us shortarses had strategically placed ourselves around a pole. Great sight-lines. No-one barging in your way. It was all good. Ten minutes before the gig, two girls plough into a space three metres ahead of us, and thatās cool. Theyāre short too. I can see over them.
Except one of them keeps waving a hat. It was a colourful hat, a rather distracting hat, and was in my eye-line the entire time.
It gets worse. The hat is for the attention of these impossibly tall bastards that barrel through the crowd and stand with the shortarse girls. They are now indelibly in my view. Theyāre not really into the band, so they stand motionless, just blocking it.
I am very proud of my behaviour that day. I confined myself to sharing japes with the other shorties that were similarly afflicted by my lack of height.
In the old days, Iād take the proper fucking hump when tall bastards pummeled through us, knocking us flying like skittles.
One last thing. Before I disappeared off to the festival, Tokes cursed me with some kind of wet Coldplay hell. I was never going to see those fuckers, so that was never going to happen. We also didnāt get rained on that much. It was spectacularly muddy, but not particularly wet, certainly not the tent sinking lakes of yore or anything like it.
Whatever deity decides Football Internet Forum disputes, I donāt know.
I do know that the bastard can use inconsiderate tall bastards at festivals to great effect if Tokesā #1 option is not available.