We have somehow managed to come up with a set of circumstances in which wearing bewb stickers in the shape of an old woman with a subcutaneous horn growing out of her forehead would make you less special.
I learned last year that shrooms at Sasquatch is a terrible idea for me.
Shrooms are a terrible idea, period.
You're eating poison.
I would never touch that shit again anyway (how many times have I said this and then defied myself, only to spend six excruciating hours vomiting myself inside out? doesn't matter), but even making the attempt unless you're way out in the forest is just foolish. A mushroom trip while surrounded by 50,000 people literally sounds like my own personal hell.
Mushies at EDC last year was such a phenomenal experience, I am ready for the same at Sasquatch.