Someone reported this post to Facebook because the article it links to “contains nudity”. They are strap-ons, you Burnier-Than-Thou hater, not actual transexuals with their PDE’s – Public Displays of Erection. As for the titties, women have them. You’ve been seeing them since you were a baby, get over it. It’s possible to see female breasts and continue about your day, it’s not necessary to alert the media. I wish Facebook would let me know whoever did the reporting so I can ban them for spoiling the fun for the rest of us, instead of sparing all the adults in the group from looking at a few PG rated photos.
Anyway, I’m reposting. “The Dong and the Disco Ball” is a funny account of Wonderhussy’s Caravsansary experience.
Longtime Burning Man vets often speak of having had one “bad Burn,” i.e., the year they had a shitty time at Burning Man. It seems impossible to have a bad time at the Greatest Party on Earth, but it’s definitely possible — health, weather, mood and interpersonal drama can all impact one’s experience, turning a fabulous playcation into a shitty week of annoying, dusty hell.
Due to my many First-World Problems, I had been in a funk the first few weeks of August — shit just hadn’t been going my way, and I had a nagging suspicion that this was going to be my “bad Burn.” I tried to stay positive by burning sage and waving crystals around and whatnot…but the feeling just wouldn’t go away. Aside from already being in a funk, my usual group that I camp with had broken up…so I had agreed to form a sort of Playa Shelter for Unwanted Burners, made up from flotsam and jetsam I knew from various areas of my life…none of whom knew each other, and many of whom had never been to Burning Man before. Would this social experiment fail miserably?