Enviro-alcho-mentalism
I was volunteering for an environmental organisation at Glastonbury festival. One particular role involved dressing up as an endangered animal and shaking a bucket. Our festival frazzled brains figured that as the endangered animal thing has kinda been done to death, we would spice it up a little by being pissed off vagrant animals, angry at human's destruction of our homes and dealing with the pain by self medication. I was a slutty tiger, hustling the festival lanes with a bottle of vodka (cunningly filled with water) and makeup smeared face.

It was a hot and bright afternoon, and as lairy acting is not my usual forte, a swift pint of home brew cider was agreed upon to get us in the mood. The cider was a bit hairy but I chugged mine down and then launched out into the afternoon crowd. I growled, I waved my bucket, bottle of vodka and furry bottom at bemused festival goers, all going ok but as we were still in the vicinity of the green fields, I had also gathered a small crowd of confused children. Who were even more confused as out of no-where I projectile vomited that pint of cider right back up and out, thankfully missing the kids but a hand knitted yurt, not so lucky.

I was spewing, laughing so hard I could barely walk while trying to escape the gathered crowd of unimpressed hippies, explaining that I wasn't really a drunk tiger - I'm just pretending (but you should avoid the wind turbine man's homebrew cider) and trying to rinse my face and mouth out with my vodka bottle of water.

Unsurprisingly it didn't go down too well and Trixie the whore Tiger was hustled away and never seen again.
(AmiBambini, Wed 13 Jan 2010, 12:28, Reply)