Source: Cowfish
I like flashmobs. Be it the good old days of people turning up in a bed shop to bounce on mattresses, very organised low-rent ninjas turning up to look confused at a bunch of high-effort fancy dress pirates, or standing still in the middle of a station, the concept appeals to my sense of the absurd and love of being in on something that others aren’t. You’ve got to be worried about someone (me in this case. Many people worry about me, I have been told, but that phrase can mean so many things) when the highlight of their helping at the Great British Beer Festival was riding up and down in the truck sized goods lifts, because not many people get to do it. They were really cool though.
I like flashmobs. Be it the good old days of people turning up in a bed shop to bounce on mattresses, very organised low-rent ninjas turning up to look confused at a bunch of high-effort fancy dress pirates, or standing still in the middle of a station, the concept appeals to my sense of the absurd and love of being in on something that others aren’t. You’ve got to be worried about someone (me in this case. Many people worry about me, I have been told, but that phrase can mean so many things) when the highlight of their helping at the Great British Beer Festival was riding up and down in the truck sized goods lifts, because not many people get to do it. They were really cool though.
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