We finished the treehouse on Saturday night, our hands riddled with blisters and our throats seared from the aggressive treatment of spliffs we had prescribed ourselves since the morning. It was a marvelous sight: a spacious wooden den built on the carcass of a redwood,
SHE ARRIVED TO CAMP on Monday afternoon with my two closest friends on the playa, a mischievous polyamorous couple from Tucson. It was Coconut’s first burn and within the hour she had joined us on an LSD-fueled bike ride through the still-emerging city of dust
ON A CLOUDY SUNDAY in May, a pale young man with a pale young gut stands outside of Euphoria Massage reading its sign. His head pulses with an eager hangover and he wears a baggy hoodie so no one will see his face. So no