Our man in the battered cowboy hat, Terry Staunton, has been out earwigging on festival goers conversations. Here's his latest report from the frontline of Latitude...

So it's official, then. The song of choice for nocturnal dancing shenanigans is Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now", which I've heard something like six times at various locations over the last two nights. Last night, it was at the Lake Stage, courtesy of My Ex Boyfriends' Records, and then in the Sunrise Arena, being played by the chaps at Feeling Gloomy. I assume Sean Rowley also played it, over at Guilty Pleasures, but to be honest I didn't make it that far out into the site last night. And anyway, there was a Bugsy Malone theme at Guilty Pleasures, and I clean forgot to bring my spats with me.

Since you were asking, here's some competitive prices from various food retailers:

Once again, we've been ear-wigging for words of wisdom from Latitude's great unwashed...

"I had a dog. He died about a year ago. His name was Boss. This is for my dog. I miss my dog."

While John seems to have found his Latitude highlight, I've got to say I've found mine, too. Nicholas Parsons, come on down. Oh, and Sheffield's finest enjoy a Man Balancing Ball On His Head race down at the lake.

Guest blogger Terry Staunton has been eavesdropping on the conversations of others to discover just what Latitude punters are talking about...

So, as ever with Latitude, there's as much fun to be had after the official events of the day have wound down...

I must admit, I find it hard to throw myself willingly into the arms of Martha Wainwright. This isn't necessarily anything to do with her song craft -- which is sleek, consummate, and delivered with commendable laser precision. She is, I guess, part of a lineage of perfectly respectable quality singer-songwriters who can find an equilibrium between a more benign, FM Radio 2 friendly audiences and those searching, perhaps, for something that's clearly in tune to profound emotional feelings.

Excuse us while we go a bit "duuude," on your asses. "This is awesome, the sheep are painted fucking pink. It's so psychedelic, and I haven't even taken a thing," says Reggie Youngblood, singer of Florida's Black Kids, who take the stage in the UNCUT Arena as a spear of late afternoon sunshine pierces the cloud.