Nat posted a new blog at MJ’s myspace. She writes in her unique and fantastic style about their festival summer, hanging in a tree and other interesting experiences. I can’t really summarize it, so read it by yourself

The chaos of Molotov Jukebox continues:
Its August, raining and we have just returned from the strange isle of mann after Manifest, (apparently they have ferral Tynwale chickens that escape and stop traffic and the policemen wore white hats and actually came to our gig) which consisted of 14 hours of driving and 6 hours on a ferry. The putrid death smell in Sam’s van is testament to how cosy we got, i found that the only solution was to wear a full penguin suit and get busted by a queue of angry parents/babies and a wheel bound guy  after Sam and i indulged in animal ferry sex in the only disabled baby changing toilet. And this is just one of the six festivals we’ve done this year, it gets uglier, smellier and very bizarre.

It began with Sunrise, i was squashed between Big Max Squared (he has massive feet, someone bred with a giant) and Sam, again in the van, driving for 6 hours on one of the hottest days this English summer bothered to offer and getting stuck in traffic so long, i actually envied the pigs in the field lying in their troughs and rolling in mud and pissed on the side of the road because we were driving so slowly. Once there, we had to run on stage as we where late and did a passible gig  then got interviewed by a magician called Fox who did optical epic Magic with just 2 elastic bands. After i night of debauched dancing, we ended up at the massive bonfire immersed with hippies wanking on the guitar about Spirituality, one of whom was on a missition to cross the fire on the log and getting angry at anyone that touched his sacred person. He insulted scarecrow max and that made me want to drop kick puppies. Instead i took pictures of old mens bollocks(who looked like they were from the grateful dead, tie-dye and tassels) on display to maybe use as a screen saver when life stops being funny. After trying to talk to chickens with an extreme cold water swim champion, we kept on drinking awake till we finished the gig later on that night in Hackney. the carpet smelled like sweat box jambery.

Following that we had beach break, which was on the same route as sunrise, with all the frills of traffic and pigs, ending in a student beach festival on a hugely sunny day which fucked our gig. Beach closed at 7, we were on a 5, to get the 3 people watching to dance i had to resort to violent insults about gagging on cock. Then i tried to blag the main stage, actually got to back stage and convinced the press the back us, the stage manager, wearing a fucking crash helmet didn’t approve.

We were not on the list for Glastonbury, but i’d forgotten a talk i had dressed as a mermaid on brighton beach in the wee hours with dawn from Bimble which resulted in us blagging it as back liners into the festival and doing 4 gigs in 5 hours with a duck on my head(his name is Darren, he’s a paratropper.) Before leaving, i rolled down naked with some girl called Gaby on the Hill of Stone henge while Adam was trying to convince us to not leave. I had too, i had to go film the shortest feature film at T in the park: THIS IS THE MOST DEMONIC, APOCALIPTIC VIOLENT FESTIVAL KNOWN TO MAN, IT WILL GIVE YOU A SEAGULL TRAUMA AND MAKE YOU WANT TO NEUTER HUMAN BEINGS. Waiting at Edinburgh airport, delayed drinking whisky and taking Valium to deal with the physical fear of take off while the rest of the band wait in munich and Sam inadvertently touched his cock after an encounter with chilli flakes. He had to put his purple rod of justice in his pint of Stein to stop crying (ps i would always finish off tthe drink that i had dipped in) That night we played at the art university which looked like the fucking National gallery,it was so hot in the student bar amongst the pillars of cool corriders with huge slanting windows so the band made the audience get naked,.. the sweat needed somewhere to get out of. then, after lot seeing Sam for 2 weeks, wailed like a Banshee on some coLd marble and left for Salzburg.Drove in midday heat (running theme of summer) to the The Flatz’s tower and all immediately got starke bollock (in my case ovarie) naked and jumped trying to dodge the evil horse flys to cool down before beer hall and sausage eating. We put it all in our shambolic faces, slept the sleep of the gods and woke to get ready for our massive gig closing the Salzburg contemporary theatre and dance festival; with perfect timing it started to rain, which meant that the venue would be full. THE STAGE WAS HUGE!!!WE HAD A SOUND MAN THAT KNEW WHAT THE HELL HE WAS DOING!!! WE HAD A DRESSING ROOM FULL OF RIDER AND AN A FANTASTIC CROWD THAT RINCED OUR CD’S!!! Next we’re in Munich airport, i’m on white wine as the panic starts to kick in, the boys are on food, those were massive meals, JENNY (squares love puppet) ADMITS SHE HAS NEVER EATEN A STEAK…. 4 minutes of shocked disbelieving silence insued. Plane lands, i’m in valium indused coma (NAVALIA) and demand to be allowed to stay on the plane for its return journey in order to sleep some more.

SECRET GARDEN: I LOST PART OF MY SOUL IN A TREE WHEN I WAS HANGING IN A HARNESS, I FELT LIKE AN ANIMAL CARCESS BEING DRAINED OF BLOOD. 8 gigs. why did we agree to this. Adam (band whore that he is) did 7 in one day. His face looked how dying children feel. The last very nearly killed us, Sam fell on the floor, i sang the songs to a pineapple head i thought i could serenade, Ferral trumpet got the bikini clad ladies to WOMP, large WOMP hands included. Best gig was second go at tree 2 in morning Saturday I got the throne this time so could actually hit right notes, dressed as neon leopard with donar kebeb pot noodle hat(someone actually sat down and combined this tragic mess of a meal) Sam was in full Penguin gear(LAY A FUCKING EGG YEH) and Scarecrow Max finally got a snog after me pimping him out on stage (he’s amazing just shy and doesn’t understand the signs a girl makes when she’s interested, even when we tell him to go for it, he doesn’t want to offend anyone. If your a woman and single please find him and love him. If you fuck him over the entire band will come and shout at your mum’s cunt) unfortunately, after the gig he finally found her and turned out she has a boyfriend but couldn’t help herself. When not rushing to gigs in sleep deprived horrofic states, we were inducing them by dancing anywhere that had banging music, primarily Chai Wallah tent obviously, we punched cheesecake with the angles we cut on the dance floor. Adam gets 31 points for style, everyone else looks like flailing epileptics. Oh, Tamapnone knits beards, women wearing them win automatically.Realidad.On third morning found Tail coat and TWNETY QUID and mug and comb on hay bail. Swam in river and bought round of coconut rum breakfast to celebrate. Big Max, who hasn’t quite understood what is expected in terms of having it decided to overdo it on the first night to the point of making himself cross-eyed and not understanding his intrument, made the mistake to try and detox the next day at a festival resulting in him failing massively in a vomiting heap just before a gig. He threw up beroka in his own tent (WHOSE WELLY IS THIS, GET BACK IN YOUR TENT!!!) End result: Secret garden = Molotov jukebox completely broken and dirty soiled shadows of their former selves. Well, till next time. final note: Do not attempt airports directly after festivals, ends in trying to provoke security guards (WHERE’S YOUR FUCKING PERMIT?) and antagonising shit Ryan air staff. Can we all boycott that fucking airline please? Thanks for listening, there are no exits.

Nat