Share
20th December 2016
12:10am GMT
It's not that we're suggesting you break any rules.
We're merely saying that some of these tips may – hypothetically – come in handy if you don't wish to take out a mortgage before buying on-site booze at one of this weekend's festivals.
Let’s start with simplicity here.
Get yourself a few of those squishy pouches – the ones used by drinks such as Ribena and Capri Sun – then fill them with the drink of your choice and slip them into the armpit/thigh gap/arse of your choice.
Can’t go wrong.
It’s a bit Mountjoy… and runs the risk of seriously injuring someone if your friend’s throw is in any way inaccurate. Which it definitely will be.
Come to think of it, don’t actually do this. Please.
“I’m sorry, Mr Security Man, but I need my fibre. Are you going to deny me my fibre?”
It’ll have to be operable via your smartphone, otherwise the massive remote control is going to arouse about as much suspicion as a flagon of cheap cider. But one of these babies, combined with a willing friend on the outside, will guarantee you a steady supply of cans all weekend long.
And one really pissed-off friend who had to spend their entire weekend loading cans of cheap beer on to a drone. But hey; that’s what friends are for.
For the men. (Or the ladies, if they’re so inclined.)
For the ladies. (Or the men, if they’re so inclined.)
This requires a bit of forward planning. But if you can make it into the festival site days previously – say, by taking a casual stroll through the Royal Hospital or a frolic through the fields of Westmeath – then bring a shovel, bury all the booze you need, and use a sophisticated GPS tracker to locate the exact spot where you left it once the festival kicks off.
No, you won’t be able to bring your shovel to the festival, and yes, digging through the muck with your bare hands for a few cans will basically constitute the low point of your life… but dammit, it’ll be worth it.
Simple, but unfortunately only works if the security guard at the entrance was born within the last hour.
“But this is my husband!”
Water is freely available at all festivals – so if you can get your hands on Jesus (or any Messiah), you’ve effectively got access to an undending supply of wine.
If you can’t find the man himself, just find some guy with a beard and sandals – easily located at most Irish festivals – and ask him to concentrate really hard.
Then, if he fails, you’re perfectly within your rights to have him crucified. It’s the law.
Remember the Johnny Cash song ‘One Piece At A Time’, where a Cadillac factory worker assembles his dream car by sneaking out one of the necessary parts each day over the course of 24 years?
Well, while bringing in an entire home-brewing kit may raise eyebrows, a group effort between you and your friends will have you whipping up your own batches in no time.
You may need to drink the brew long before it’s suitable for human consumption, and this may make you violently ill, but sure you can worry about that later.
What could possibly go wrong?
Because nobody checks the pouch.
Nobody.
