Tuesday, 11 March 2003

Maybe it makes me look like some kind of easty snob (in that case i'd like to add about three 0's to my bank account balance and move out of a flat for the first time in my life thanks) but i've never understood the national obsession with camping.

Didn't ancient man work his ass off to get the hell out of living amongst nature? If they'd invented the grave then he'd be turning in it.

Maybe it's bad memories of avoiding perverted teachers at shonky school camps but everytime somebody mentions the prospect of a camping trip to me I run a mile. I will not go anywhere that doesn't have direct access to the latest technologies, and if that means never going to Tasmania then that's the price i'm willing to pay.

As a very posh relation of mine said once in a rare sober moment, "the only stars I sleep under are five stars". Amen to that, even if the closest I ever get is a shonky pay-by-the-hour motel in Eltham.

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