How To Do A Festival.

1) Girls will flock to H&Ms everywhere to get their standard-issue festival outfits. If you haven’t got denim shorts and a straw twat-hat then you ain’t coming in.

2) There’ll probably be some poor sap at  the gates bawling his eyes out as the sniffer dogs take an interest in his crotch.

3) Once you’re in, you have to spend every single moment taking photos of yourself for your Facebook profile picture. Make sure you have the obligatory “feet in wellies” shot – and watch the next day as your Instagram feed fills up with fake fun-filtered pouts.

4) Watch with interest as you see the apparently casual Walker-Dancers strut across the field. See how many you can spot.

5) Cider just isn’t your drink. It’s way too much liquid to deal with in one glass. So why the fuck do you insist on drinking it today?

6) The friend you don’t really like – you know, the one you have been trying to shake off – becomes obsessed with the waltzers and insists that you all go on them.

7) You twist your knee on the waltzers.

8 ) You see waaaayy too many cocks as you wait for the portaloos and lads unashamedly take advantage of the open-air urinals.

9) At no one point do you accept it’s completely unacceptable to stand in the rain demonstrating a £2 plastic poncho.

10) The most frequently-sent text of the day will be, “Where ru?” as you constantly get split up from your friends.

11) “We’re in the drum and bass tent.” Great, you think, if I actually knew what that meant then maybe I’d be able to come and find you…

12) When you eventually find your friends four hours later, its customary to do a cider-fuelled cry and wail, “I’ve been on my own for four hoooooouuurs!”

13) At some point during the evening – possibly after your wellies have ripped the fuck out of your feet – you’ll have a sudden freak out, be hit with the thought that you’re far too old to be doing this and that, actually, all you want to do now is go home and have a curry.

14) During the last act on main stage, you’ll get hit on the head with a litre bottle of urine which some twat has lobbed across the crowd. You know that a festival is not the place to cry, but somehow you can’t hold the tears back.

15) Be prepared to feel disgusted with yourself the morning after you realise that, in essence, all you did was spend £100 to get drunk in a field.