Roskilde in Pictures

The Arrival: In spite of Dan-Cry-Face, we are reasonably dust- and disease-free

One calm afternoon between champagne-lunch and nausea-dinner

Chris, ready for liftoff

Mike begins his teenage-caliber love affair with box-wine

Music, Day One: Audience pale, primed and purebred

God hates flags

We’re not tan, that’s urine-dust. And no, my shirt doesn’t say ‘Diva’ or some other lispy shit

The camp at sunrise. Don’t read the signs, they don’t make any sense.

Kings of Leon. Queen of earplugs.

That was box, like, number seven. Plus, I always look fun-sized next to my skyskraper-friends

We spent most of the week under various pole-and-rubber arrangements

Day Seven: The natives are restless. And graffiti-eloquent, clearly.

Eternal sunshine of a spotless latrine.

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