Monday, 9 May 2011

Kiss it. Go on. Kiss it...

Unless one has spent most of the year underneath a massive stone, then it was obvious summat big was going on the other Friday. Yep. That's right. The Royal Fucking Wedding was taking place, which, whether you're a royalist or not was totally and utterly mint. Not only did it provide us with an additional day off but gave the whole country and excuse to begin binge drinking heavily from around breakfast time. I missed the actual ceremony as we went hard on the Thursday eve and was in the process of 'losing' some rank fried chicken we'd picked up the night before while the vows were going on. But the afternoon was a different story - the street party on Wilton Way in Hackney was summat else - Some of the punters were absolutely munted which made for a real mixture of sights. Children painting shit crossed with men who'd consumed so much 'K' that they couldn't walk straight.

The day was topped with Kiss the Royal Fist, which went down in the evening down at the London Fields. The vibe was off the chain mainly cos of the sunny drunken vibes of the day. Plus the amazing mixing skills on show behind the decks. One of the highlights was smoking a cig in the kitchen of the pub and thieving a tomato. It was that sort of day. Big.

At the controls

Delicious - can I have 50 more?

In da mix

The Roots Manuva soundsystem

Token gesture towards the wedding bash

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