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Little Shiva Goes To Burning Man
With her tranny wife Jenn. Pictures here, here, and here of their trip. In addition to these tasty morsels below.

Crudes.jpg

ScrapEden.jpg

lamplighters.jpg

penismissile.jpg

Make love, not war

seelondonseefrance.jpg

This one's for Crid -- the next best thing to welder's wife tail

All photos copyright 2006, Little Shiva, no reproduction without her permission, ya thieves. Which I, naturally, got before posting these.

Posted by aalkon at September 29, 2006 11:17 AM

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Comments

DO NOT EVER, EVER, NEVER GO TO BURNING MAN!!!

timmy.vox.com/library/post/burning-man-our-review.html

Posted by: Hasan at September 29, 2006 6:57 AM

There should be a Burning Man for the middle aged... At a Hyatt somewhere, the kind with an atrium, air conditioning, and a large bar. They could call it Somewhat Overheated Man. You'd pay cash for everything, leaving no electronic trace of your visit.

Posted by: Crid at September 29, 2006 7:40 AM

I like that idea. Burning Man indoors. No need for sunblock.

Posted by: Amy Alkon at September 29, 2006 8:33 AM

Some friends of mine in San Francisco (of course) had "Suburban man" a few years ago during the Labor day weekend while many of their friends were at Burning Man. A small group of people went"camping" at a someone's house for the weekend. Showers were available at will, food was fresh and plentiful, and it was easy for anybody to head home if they felt like getting away. Not quite as hardcore, but I could get down with the idea of a big art/performance festival more if it didn't require that I give up all of my creature comforts.

Posted by: justin case at September 29, 2006 12:10 PM

Holy merde!! I had no idea that BM required its participants to part with all that cash. I just assumed putting up with the conditions was penalty enough.

Posted by: Stu "El Inglés" Harris at September 29, 2006 1:02 PM

I admit, I am seriously way too much of a hot-weather wuss to go to Burning Man. I used to work outdoors... I have flashbacks every now and then where I stare at the wall and mutter, "No, no more sunscreen, nooooooooo... mosquitos biting-- not in the face! not in the face!... aieeeeeeee, the horrible fiery gas ball in the sky!..." and the only way to bring me out of it is to ply me with iced coffees and dab my fevered brow with a Red Bull. Chocolates may be involved in this scenario as well. Possibly margaritas. And a foot rub. New car?

Posted by: Melissa at September 29, 2006 2:18 PM

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