At Easter I went to the Philippines for the crucifixions. It was a bloody affair. Never before have I been spattered with so much of other people's blood. Never before have I got onto a bus looking like I've just murdered somebody and no-one's batted an eyelid. Actually that really hasn't happened before - I've never murdered anyone, neither have I ridden a bus after murdering or not murdering them. Because I haven't. I'm going to be quiet now. I feel like I'm implicating myself in a non-existent crime.

Anyway, what I mean to say is: this is what I looked like when I rode that bus and, eventually, I'll be posting photos from the festival. If you're squeamish, start looking away, very slowly, now.


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