“Off my head on pills at a festival a few years ago, I decided to take a woman I’d met for a bit of a knee trembler. In one of the Portaloos. Why? Gods knows. After a couple of minutes fumbling – chemically oblivious to the infernal stench – I suddenly desperately needed a shit.  ‘I need a dump,’ I mumbled. ‘But can I stroke your tits?’ incredibly, she just grunted and said ‘sure’. But after about a minute of being pawed at by sweating turd-machine, even she was freaked out. ‘You’re a fucking weirdo,’ she muttered, storming out. Leaving me sat in a Portaloo, stroking the air where a pair of tits had once been, and periodically munching pills. For another 90 minutes.