{"version":"1.0","type":"rich","provider_name":"Acast","provider_url":"https://acast.com","height":250,"width":700,"html":"<iframe src=\"https://embed.acast.com/$/67ec1a2c506c6c628ca5b1e2/69fbb0d113990e6fae2bab8b?\" frameBorder=\"0\" width=\"700\" height=\"250\"></iframe>","title":"Gout, Festivals & Wheelbarrowing Beyoncé","thumbnail_width":200,"thumbnail_height":200,"thumbnail_url":"https://open-images.acast.com/shows/67ec1a2c506c6c628ca5b1e2/1778102373756-f559fa7b-2ab7-4470-baac-c5781a6f3011.jpeg?height=200","description":"<p>Right then… strap in you filthy animals, this one’s an absolute state from start to finish.</p><p>The boys are back chatting pure nonsense, kicking off with&nbsp;<strong>gout chat</strong>&nbsp;(rock ‘n’ roll, lads) before immediately descending into a medically inaccurate but deeply disturbing breakdown of diet, injuries, and why you should never kick a door frame in anger. Life lessons, sort of.</p><p>From there it’s straight into&nbsp;<strong>festival war stories</strong>, and honestly… it’s chaos:</p><ul><li>Wheelbarrowing&nbsp;<strong>Beyoncé</strong>&nbsp;onto stage like she’s a sack of spuds</li><li>Nearly dying from&nbsp;<strong>nuclear-level hot sauce</strong>&nbsp;(and the aftermath… Jesus Christ)</li><li>Silent discos turning into full-on WWE situations with security</li><li>Entire festival fields basically made of&nbsp;<strong>wee</strong></li><li>Misty bulldozing security like he’s in Gladiator</li><li>And at least three separate incidents involving&nbsp;<strong>bodily functions gone very wrong</strong></li></ul><p>There’s also:</p><ul><li>The legendary&nbsp;<strong>“Terry Wogan is dead” sign incident</strong>&nbsp;(which goes about as badly as you’d expect)</li><li>A full breakdown of how rumours at festivals used to spread like wildfire (RIP literally everyone every weekend apparently)</li><li>Golf buggy crimes, near-death fireworks situations, and upsetting&nbsp;<strong>Neil Young</strong>&nbsp;for no reason whatsoever</li><li>A man getting&nbsp;<strong>gangrene from a festival fence</strong>&nbsp;(standard)</li><li>Someone mistaking a sleeping human for a bin bag and booting them across a field</li></ul><p>Plus loads of vintage GLC behaviour:</p><ul><li>Getting battered in tiki bars</li><li>Starting chants at other people’s gigs</li><li>Playing “family-friendly” sets to horrified Christian kids</li><li>And discovering that dancing in a hole can become the highlight of your entire night</li></ul><p><strong>Key takeaway:</strong></p><p>Festivals used to be lawless, disgusting, dangerous… and absolutely brilliant.</p><p>We wrap up with a bit of modern-day moaning (IDs, sniffer dogs, no fun allowed anymore), some chat about upcoming shows, and the usual descent into nonsense about health, ageing, and trying not to die.</p><p><strong>🔥 Highlights:</strong></p><ul><li>“I thought I was gonna die… then I saw your face and knew I was.”</li><li>“My ass was in tatters.”</li><li>“That’s my uncle you twat!”</li><li>“We nearly set off the fireworks at 2pm.”</li></ul><p><strong>💬 In short:</strong></p><p>Gout, guts, mud, booze, violence, lies, near-death experiences, and lads behaving exactly how you’d expect.</p>","author_name":"Goldie Lookin Chain"}