If you’re from England, then there’s a damn good chance that the rest of the UK hates you – don’t blame me, that’s just statistics. If you’re from England and on this site, however, there’s also a fine chance that you’ve spent the weekend at the UK’s biggest festival, Glastonbury, seeing absolutely no bands, taking tonnes drugs and freaking out in your tent for the whole weekend, using the small, poorly constructed confines as the most expensive and shit hotel perceivable, where your neighbours just won’t shut the fuck up, the ground’s flooded with litter and the toilets smell like an army of burly men and their bovine pets and lovers have shat themselves to death after a night on Indian food and strong coffee.

Anyway, though that big beautiful behemoth of a festival is now behind us like a raincoat-clad, bowler hat-donning, shades-wearing potential rapist in a dark alley, we in Scotland are yet to get our major festival, T in the Park, so before we hit the insane endurance of a weekend, allow me to give you my guide to making the most of your festival.

Even this photographer was almost sick at the stench

The first vital point; packing. Remember, you’re going to fucking stink no matter what the fuck you do and no matter how many changes you make, it won’t help so just take enough for a couple of changes (at most) in cases the rain pisses upon you, as it tends to do in this junkies bowel of a country. Also, don’t bother taking your good shit along in the hope that a stranger will see you and instantly want to fuck you in your crack den of a tent, you filthy little shagger, just take whatever shit you can find cause at the end of the day, it’s only going to end up covered in mud from when you were rolling about on your back trying keep your eyeballs in your mothershitting head. And even if you did wear some top of the line gear, no one’s going to notice because they’ll be too busy picking the bits of dry sick out of their jeans from the night before to look at you. You’re also going to want to pack plenty of cereal bars since in the heat of a festival (or at least a 3 man tent that’s sleeping 6 people cause your dumb fucking friends forgot just how essential a tent is when it comes to camping) they’re so easy to bite that a toothless fucking moron on the brink of death with overwhelming anorexia could get their mouth around them. I’ve seen people so wired on drugs that they probably couldn’t even fucking drive get stuck into those things like a shoeless tramp with a tin of warm beans. Other than booze, that’s all you need to pack. And if you don’t know how much booze to pack, here’s a tip: as much as you can literally fucking carry. Don’t worry if you can’t drink it all, your tight-arse  mate that never brought a tent, the type whose age and IQ are the same number, will no doubt take it off your hands, meaning that those African kids you hear about that are crying cause you’re wasting food and shit will dry their fucking eyes; “everything’s okay”, they’ll think.

Next, I want you to look you up a band timetable ahead of the festival; not only will this save you £7 buying a programme that’s so small you can’t read it and so flimsy you can’t even use it for roach when you realise how indecipherable it is but it doesn’t matter who you plan on seeing cause no matter how ll you plan it, it’ll all end up Arse Crescent without a reverse gear, whether that be down to your shitty friends opting to see some sonic arsehole of an artiste like Adele – who doesn’t actually play festivals but I fucking hate anyway – instead of some underground shit that needs the help or simply from you being too fucked up to even hear. Look at the timetable; think of how good it would be to see all those bands you love; accept that you’ll probably see around 20% of them. It is at this point that you’re ready to go to the festival.

Oh, juts fuck off, won't you?!

So it’s 2pm on the first day of the festival; you’ve had arse-all sleep because you’ve either been so excited that you’ve come within a thimbles length of shitting your pants like you were an 8 year old at Christmas again or because you’re a goddamn alcoholic who can’t even wait that extra day to make your way through your bathtub of vodka and cider; your tent has finally been set up after 30 minutes of pretending to yourself that you can multi-task by drinking and pitching your home for the weekend at the same time; you’re totally wrecked as shit from the journey up anyway. What do you do now!? Now you go wandering around the camp site, phoning everyone you fucking know at the festival in case the cunts you’re camping with solely cause they have a nice tent and not cause they’re actually nice can’t handle their booze and you need to stay up till some fucking unnecessary time with people that are a P45 away from full time alcoholism. You figure out who’s got the best camp site, spend a good while there enjoy the final bit of beautiful grassland you’ll see the whole weekend then start drinking, pissing and discarding your rubbish all over the joint till this space looks like unlivable, like Northampton or some shit. At this point, you’re now ready to enjoy your camp site spot by comparison: just make sure not to tell your mates where it is so you can go comedown from your horse crack or whatever the fuck you’re on for the day in peace. On the way back to it, keep an eye out for great places to piss since it’s seemingly much more dignified for pissed-up fat birds to squat down, lift their skirt up and piss in front of a hedge (yes, in front of) than use the portaloos, as many publicly indecent slags at the festival would have you believe.

Now, here’s the most important part:

What the fuck does any of this shit matter? You’re going to be so drunk that you’ll probably even enjoy Jessie J or Bruno Mars. Fuck, you’ll no doubt even try sing along. And how do I know this? Cause even I’m that guy at festivals. So all I can say to those that are going to festivals this Summer: enjoy. And to those who have already been to some…I’m sorry you had to go without this eternally useful aid.

How will you know when you've successfully followed my guide? When you make this cunt look like the leader of Alcoholics Anonymous.