She doesn't kiss like you, and she never bloody will.

I've spent time inside over the past few days. Not prison, im not that way inclined, but in the confines of my own house, marinating in my own juices. I've discovered a new band, a four piece pop/punk outfit known as ABBA, who are originally from Sweden. Interestingly they have been around since the late 70's, and when I think about it, their sound does have a certain 70's 'vibe' to it. Anyway, I heard one song, the interestingly titled 'The Winner Takes It All'. A song clearly not about winning, as i was led to believe, but about a break up of marriage. Bloody divorce. As I investigated further, I discovered the writer of said track, some fella named John, was married to the singer, who was called Sue, I think. The bloody egotist wrote the song as if it was her writing it about him, lines like "tell me does she kiss, like I used to kiss you" and "I was in your arms, thinking I belonged there" have quite literally broken my heart. Shattered my dreams everywhere. The poor cow. So I don't really like ABBA anymore, im not interested. I'll listen to the occasional ballad every now and then, but if I'm honest, it's not my cup of tea. I hate the 70's and when was the last good thing to come out of Sweden anyway? Sven Goran Erikssen? Fuck off. Ikea? Shit. Thats it. That's all that has come out of Sweden ever. So there you have it. My last four days inside, ending in disappointment, in heart ache, in tragedy. Sorry. Lance x

Benicassim 2012 in as fewer words as possible.

Trips long enough to make you question going.

Bombay Saphire on the plane.

Tom going through customs with Peel's passport.

6hour coach trip.

Jambon stop.

The beach bar.

An outrageous amount of booze.

"nice tits", "Sankyouuuuu"

Joints on the beach.

Secret queues.

Good camping spot.

Unisex showers.

Incredible females.

Incredible friends.

Class A drugs.

Warm Stecklenburgs.

Warm Mahou's.

€3.99 Knebep.

Shit chairs.

Long walks.

The antithon games.

The Ant Arena.

R.I.P Andy Antsworth.

Group harmony singing.

Group harmony DJ'ing.

The golf club (actually go-kart club).

Jamie got robbed.

Peel shit himself.

Harvey pissed himself.

Jackson's chunder dragon.

Sutho climbed half a mountain.

Tom met a 26year old exotic dancer.

Marv looked like a dinosaur.

Good music.

Dangerous punch buckets.

LETS GET SHITFACED. 

Lizards chest.

The previous two years have been a pleasure Festival Internacional de Benicàssim, we may meet again.