When people agree that Hula is their favorite music and camping festival, they say it with a conviction reserved for the few, crystalline certainties. And with pride as lifelong Floridians and Southerners, calling this our home festival and contributing to the ultimate spectacle. Your welcome. Your time is our pleasure.

A thousand apologies dear reader if the records of these events appear out of sequence. The anachronism can be attributed to ego death and the collateral ilk. Late nights, chemical toilets and sunrise sets. As with all things, time and the Hulaweens coalesce into one long happy, party memory. You’re welcome. Bet.

In no uncertain terms, the wook wranglers were born under the shade of the turkey oaks at Hulaween. It was Lil D-Big Arrel from Cheese. Love. Sauce. who first coined the phrase as the hippies passed out in groundscored beach chairs failed to respond to the cracking of the kangaroo whip. Cypher, Quinton, Emma Jay, The Captain, Cheyenne, Clayopheus the Sacred, Fooboo, Thatcher Owen Mullins and all the rest. These are ten years worth of memories and an inkling to the portent of this year’s potential.

Git on wooks!

Anybody that’s been to the Sprit of Suwanne Music Park on the last weekend of October can tell you, it only gets better ever year. Suwannee Hulaween is ready to celebrate the festival’s tenth anniversary with historic, genre-bending lineup. Following a five-year hiatus, electro-soul pioneer Pretty Lights will headline Hulaween as his only East Coast festival performance on his Soundship Spacesystem Tour. Goose, Les Claypool’s Fearless Flying Frog Brigade, John Summit, Trey Annastasio Band along with the Cheese set the mark high for this year’s music. It’s more music than one can get to. Check out the rest of the insane lineup here.

Trinketz VIP Dance Party. We didn’t build the fire. No wait. We sure did. Keep your eyes peeled for Asheville’s favorite sister, Trinket and her amazing dance party. Sorry fellas, you must have the proper lanyard to enter and if you get the green light, please take off your shoes. Look for feathers in her dreadlocks and bones in her nose.

The Triforce. Cheese. Love. Sauce., The Titty Kitties. Hobo Kamp. It all comes together this year in one delicious burrito. Michigan wooks. Adam’s Breath balloons, no deals. This is the ant bed you made. Sleep in it. This was where Emma Jay came into the fold, noob that she was, now an expert festivarian. Look for her renegade vending somewhere deep in the woods with the forest people. These are professional rocket hippies to be sure. “Experienced” campers that know how to skate the fine line between classy and thugish behavior. Let them pave the way and learn from their experience. (Ed. pro tip- Early entry on Wednesday (which is a must) costs $40 with the purchase of a four-day ticket. Every day before that is only ten dollars a day. For $70 Join Kamp Happiness Sunday prior for a few extra days of set up and helping to lay the groundwork for the adventure to come.)

Tickets on sale now right here.

The Roanoke Mafia. Since its inception, the wook wranglers have celebrated their continued membership in the Roanoke Mafioso. Riding mules and hauling their wagons, half of them would come down for MagnoliaFest and the other half would arrive two weeks later for Hula. Octobers are pretty special in Live Oak. They come because it represents a place where dreams come true. Where every fantasy can become real in just a few seconds. Don’t ask how it happens. There is no lost and found for the ego.

Visit some of the other Hulaween contributions from the wrangler archives like Dance of the Monkey Kings, Cheese. Love. Sauce. and The Kamp Ha Penis Dumpster Fire. Explore the interweb and check out our social media channels on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube. We will stay in the eye wall of the Hulaween virtual fun as we focus on the artists and other contributors as we gear up for the event. Stay focused grasshopper.

The Spirit of the Suwannee Music Park and Campground is an 800-acre campground located on the historic banks of the Suwannee River. Boat launch on site, bring your canoe or kayak and take a stroll along this beautiful cypress tree lined piece of North Florida. Bring the family and enjoy great fresh water fishing, wildlife habitat, or play our disc golf course through the pines and oaks. With miles of trails, hiking, bicycling, and golf cart rides are one of the many great ways to see the outdoors.

Something for every hippy. Hulaween doesn’t know you and she doesn’t care what kind of music you like. She’s going to make a warm poridge steeped with jam band, bluegrass, bass, house, deep house, dubstep, techno, electric, progressive house, electro house, trap, trance, progressive trance, psychidelic trance, yacht rock and divorce core and she’s going to pour it over your face. Get ready. The man thinks he’s going for that Saturday night Cheese show but he doesn’t yet understand the Pretty Lights bass thumping that’s going to leave the decks traveling across the field, up his leg and right into his tan starfish. Your welcome.

Call me Swiss cause I be Cheesin’.

Do not mess around and miss out on the world famous Kamp Happiness Circle K? Trading Post and Hagglin’ Table. That’s right. Five square feet of some of the silliest and most extra-special collectibles this side of a Spanish flea market. When leave one-take one blankets aren’t enough, come to the hagglin’ table where every transaction is supervised by one of our trained staff of professionals. Treasures await you.

Stop what you’re doing. Hulaween is proud to host the Spirit of Suwannee favorites, Free Range Strange. Sunny Rae, the Savage and the rest of the bunch will bring their high-energy twist on folk, bluegrass and jam-rock to the party. What does the lumberjack say? Wait for his lighting shreddage and the late-night, campfire jams. Don’t sleep on this one. Always a strange time.

Get lost. Don’t be afraid to get lost at Suwannee. That’s part of the fun to get completely turned around in the forest and happen upon all matter of unexpected surprises. Renegade stages, hidden passages and secret rooms. Find your way to The Loop and visit with the beautiful people. Check out the VIPness and make your way down to the river. Monday is a big river day at Hulaween. Don’t be afraid to stay one more night and play groundscore bingo. It’s all out there, you just have to poke around.

Hulaween, one can make anything happen. All you have to do is pretend it and it becomes real. Molly Tuttle talked about it after their secret set in 2022. Few places so easily invite this unusual behaviro where the concept of reality becomes relative and subject to interpretation. Join the collective ego-death over the course of the week and remember what the best version of yourself looks like. It looks good on you.

(Ed pro tip. Take a trip inside the SOS Cafe and Music hall for the breakfast buffet, live music or just a cool place to sit and enjoy a cocktail or a draft brew. It also hosts one of the nicest water closets in the park. It’s right next door to the laundry so you can relax at the bar whilst your clothes get warshed.)

Spirit Lake. By day the ladies of the Complimentary Bar are flashing their pearly whites and by night, the Frick Frack table draws in the suckers ready to part with their treasures. Gambling is an addiction. Sit a spell with the swamp monster or venture through one of the many art installations that are just ready to blow your mind. Make your way to the Spirit Lake stage for intimate jams and be on the look out for silent disco. It’s an endless parade of fun in every direction and serious adventure awaits.

Location. Location. Location. The park has so many different great places to camp and they all offer something different. Whether it’s with Tristan and Cat in the Renaissance, Moonshine Gary in the cottages, Zach and Emily in the Bird Sanctuary, Tim and Sunny at 80 acres, Billy in The Loop, Matt near the Bat House, Lucy on Hippy Trail, Luke Sidewalker at Spirit Lake, Thatch at the horse stables or Bonnie in the VIPness, nowhere is safe. It depends on what style of camping you’re looking for. Some folks like to get back in the woods, away from the party, giving you the option to join the fray and then retreat back into your sanctuary. Some people like to be in the mix. Kamp Happiness likes to be in the eye wall of the storm and the original settlement around the Poncho Tree near the intersection of the Pine Field and the Farm Field remains. It’s in the shade, not too far from the Bill Monroe Pavilion, where it remains today. Come early and join the fun at 101 Happy St. Anyone that wants to leave can just step over the line.

Thanks again for making the wranglers the Orion Arm’s number one media source for all things wookishly groovy and stupid fun. Join Big Betty at the Hobo Kamp for a heaping spoonful of all the most ridiculous pulp you will find. Join us for our Thursday night house band, “The Tranquilizers” as they struggle to tune their instruments for two straight hours.

Felicia,

Ten Years of Hulaween. Has it really been that long? Golly. I remember what we were doing in 2013?  We made love in the phosphorescence at Blind Pass and drank rum drinks at Mermaids before it became a Margaritaville and disappeared with the rest of Fort Myers Beach into Gulf of Mexico. Lance Armstrong joined the ranks of the admitted “users” and President Obama was inaugurated for his second term. Silver Wrapper and Purple Hat Productions brought Hulaween to the Spirit of Suwannee Music Park and for the festivarians of the southeast, things would never be the same. This year we party for all those who loved the festival and have gone home to their final reward. Clayopheus, Corporal Turner, Fooboo and so many more. If they could speak from the other side we might hear them singing with the wind and asking us to join in their beautiful song.

Bye Felicia-

The post Ten Years of Suwannee Hulaween appeared first on wook wranglers.

Wednesday Turnaround: They had only been gone from the park a few days since the hoedown that was Suwannee Spring Reunion the weekend prior. Several of the camps had left their tapestries up and decided to roll on through to Resonate and why not, aces back to back. Holly saved the spot by the Bill Monroe Pavilion and Kamp Happiness rolled right up to the street with the kind of central address that attracts attention, wanted and unwanted. Peanut butter-banana smoothie? They were joined by Mikey, Regina the crazy Argentinian, Pedro the Mexican thief and Spider Master Kush. The Atlanta crowd had taken over the pavilion so the wooks were pushed back out into the night where they belonged. They’d been saving firewood for days so they were set for the week and the forecast called for perfect weather and entirely sideways fun.

Lizard Bumps?

Mexican Thursday: Her name was Pedro and the reflection in her eyes showed little fear. Her greasy mustache curled in a sinister way under her lip and it was apparent she was not to be trifled with. She had the dirt “in” her and it wasn’t washing off. She and Lucy went to catch the Tamayo set before running into Trinket at the corn dog booth.  Corn dogs with Ramen numerals? The streets were loose with Birmingham belly dancers and Chihuahuas and by Side Trakd everyone was getting their wiggle on. Someone was definitely getting lost in a poral-let before the sun came up. Night time would arrive with two sets of STS9 and a head full of the fluff. On her way back to camp she briefly stopped to check her face in someone’s side mirror and almost got run over by Ted as he tore his golf cart around the corner. Remember kids, the speed limit throughout the park is five miles per hour.

Friday Street Fire: Friday hosted the celebration of life drum circle as a tribute for Chuck and Charlie Morris. Support for Jenny Thompson and family can be offered at this link. Purple was the flavor with reminders of the family support of Purple Hatter’s Ball, which celebrates the life of Rachel Morningstar Hoffman.

Pedro built a fire by the street without the use of Doritos (ed. note-eat it K’aoli) and the party spilled forth from the dark of the woods. Black cyanide smoke billowed from the plastic melting over the coals. Lucy was worried it would upset the moonshine fairies that lived in the Spanish moss high in the oak trees. Each night the jar would be nearly empty but after their visit, by morning the lightning would be full again. Do you believe in forest magik?

Frick Frack: Opuio was blasting nearby as Emma and Baitbucket arrived at the blackjack table. He split sixes against the dealers four, not really in the book but one has to play outside the rhombus when dealing with these kinds of madcaps. Pedro showed up with incendiaries smuggled in her bosom and Krissy came out on top betting some heavy silverware. Emma managed to fleece the table and walked away with treasures galore. Shifty crooks, all of them. They won’t think twice to take a soul but they’re afraid of losing them from the briefcase. If soul gambling has become an addiction for you, get help.

photo credit

Guyton Bass                                Jess Southwell                             Ariel Fernandez                       Heather Bennett

Jason Nail                                    Tilly Trull                                     Jason Nail                                 Heather Bennett

Matt Burkey                                Victoria Tranchese                    Rhyan Reinertsen                     Rhyan Reinertsen

Guavetron on my mind

The Atlanta crowd invited everyone to Hive Mind where Martha Firewalker got into a scuffle with a hammock with a powerful tractor beam. She could be heard screaming, “It’s trying to eat me!” over the STS9 set. Lucy found her way to the Mi Kulture tent, perfectly situated in front of the Amphitheater Stage. She’d begun to enjoy shows from the back fence next to the road. The second rail. The rail for the old people where one can enjoy the music and catch traffic along the road. She caught a reflection of herself and realized she’d forgotten about the raccoon face tattoo she’d suffered earlier. The one on JBfly’s chest looked professional but Lucy’s resembled an unfortunate case of frostbite and yet another way for the authorities to identify her. Once you join the mapaches, es for life ese.

The stranger walked up to MJ during the Emancipator set and began dancing with her in a somewhat provocative yet sloppily way. She wanted to dance alone so she donned her pashmina and horn rimmed sunglasses and morphed into an Argentinian woman named Regina. She didn’t speak English but would occasionally mumble, “No puedo manejarlo.” before slinking off through the crowd toward the rail.

Friday night the trap house hosted the family jam and managed to keep the music going most of the night, long after more electrical stages were being shut down like bad daycares. Only the cajon got the axe just before sunrise. The guitars and fire were left unbothered and invited to continue unabashed. All glory to the  rangers and welcome to Mitch’s quiet bluegrass party.

Saturday, Ego Death Block Party: Lucy woke up in a strange tent and made what she considered the walk of pride. She’d worked the fraternity boy like a rented mule and purposely left a flip flop in the tent just so she’d have to go back later. Get thee behind me Satan. Endorphins, serotonin and dopamine all get released when dancing and the Floozies meant date night at the porch stage. We are encouraged to remember, there is absolutely no shame in the get down.

They stopped to see Jade and Daedra, (no, Delia) at A Bazaar Universe on their way to see the Polish Ambassador. Bfly purchased a vest of coatimundi fur which had a perfect place for her to smuggle her White Claws. Lizard Bumps and his camp mates were participating in the Anesthetic Olympics whereby the five team members got sideways before completing a detailed task. Team building can be an important tool for interpersonal growth within the office setting. All aboard. This train is leaving the disassociation station. He managed to find his way into the showers, barely clutching the last strands of reality when audio hallucinations began vibrating his entire head. As they became louder and more sustained he began to slide to the floor, doubting his own mind and preparing for the fetal position. As he peered out of the shower curtain he realized the sound was emanating from a didgeridoo being played directly next to him, within the fantastic acoustics of the restroom. Curiouser and curiouser…But maybe he wasn’t going mad…just yet. Lifetime ban? There is no such thing as a death penalty.

-Hot Guy Alert-

Lettuce closed things out on the Amphitheater Stage and opened into the portal of a Saturday night not witnessed since the rule of the ancients. Live electric jams, clown parties and roving saxophone shows shut down traffic in front of the Hobo Kamp and pushed the button on the family jam block party. Thanks to Mateo for bringing all the noise and keeping the fun in funk. Cruise control took over the collective at some point and the forest became alive with the right kind of energy. The source. The switch had been thrown and there would be no coming back. The audience and the performers had ultimately become one and the celebration dance was on. Mission accomplished.

When it’s right, it’s right and on a night like this, the clock slows down almost to a stop and the inner rhythm emerges. There were those who pointed further down into the abyss, where the ego is forbidden, only to be rescued by the jedi flip later in the night. Renegade sets from Future Joy to Tamayo and beyond provided more spots than could be visited in the wee hours of the morning.

Lil d-Big AREL showed up just to stir the pot and exchange schematics for Hulaween. Naturally he would park right on the the dance floor (Boston style), hoping to break something or at least piss someone off. Orlando and Mario slid in at some point and things continued to tilt toward the edge of the flat earth. Did you hear that? It sounded like the scream of someone with a bat trapped in their bus.

Heavy Handed Savages? Sometime around four Tyler showed back up with Blanco’s guitar. Bucket had let him borrow it ever since Mateo and the electric saxophone showed up around one. He couldn’t believe his vibrating eyes. The guitar was speckled with blood, which they’d witnessed at Merlefest, but this time it only had three working strings left on it. Brutal and crusty savagery of the third order. Earlier he’d been called out for banging a little hard, but three strings? Great gravy said the lady, that is one biscuit of a hot mess. Is it possible to follow some rules of decorum while being ravaged within the vortex of the party? It certainly takes a special breed.

Sunday Vibe, April Fool’s and the Grit and Slide? No matter what kind of party it is, when at their best the wranglers are around a campfire making homemade music. The Sunday morning family jam lasted most of the day and celebrated the extra day of fun offered as a gift by the park. Never miss that show which was supposed to include a slip and slide. April Fool’s? Nades said Pedro. With the help of Quinn and the gang she mused, “If you build it, they will come.” The grit and slide gets five stars on the Yoast review.

Deep Bleating and the Slumberjack: Welcome to white girl White Claw drunk.  Do you hear the deep bleating of a goat from back in the woods? They have a special scent to be sure and it’s standard operating procedure to put tennis balls on their horns. Damnable. Methinks this will not end well.

He’d hustled so well the week before he’d worked himself out of job. Now he was loose and left to his own devices. He’d heard too much, knew too much. He would have to be kept under surveillance, for a while at least. The kind of man who could sleep folded like an origami lawn chair, he admittedly “could not” play a guitar. Honest to the point of recklessness.

Sunday beach day? The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful. From the grit and slide to the fire spinners on the sandy shores of the Suwannee River, for many this would be the first wash of the weekend.  Come wash that stink off and get saved.

“Take me to the hospital. I’m having a seizure.”

photo credit

Memorandum Media                 Martha Jane Miller                 Martha Jane Miller                   Martha Jane Miller

MattBurkey                                   Jay Strausser Visuals            Shannon Wegznek                     Martha Jane Miller

Sharona Hughes                          Jessica Ricksgers                    Jessica Ricksgers                        Tristan Walsh

Baitbucket was sent to the store with twenty bucks to purchase vaginal disks and 305s. They were out of bear spray but he knew something similar would be needed. Emma had been getting sassy and it would be necessary for her black sheep druncle to take her down a peg. Glass blowers are sexy. Facts.

When did Pedro take over the hagglin’ table? It happened so fast it was seamless. Definitely a shrewd wheeler-dealer, a great career as a horse trader lay in her future.

Visit our site at Merch Booth for official wook wranglers gear.

Thanks to everyone who came out to the White Claw trap house block party. Keep up with the Hobo Kamp, Circle K? Trading Post and new cast net contest at Summer Camp and Mountain Music Festival. It’s all about muscle memory.

photo credit

Jessica Ricksgers                        Jason Thomas                          Tristan Walsh                        Tristan Walsh

Krissy Stiver                                Matthew O’Brien                     Heather Bennett                    Jaime Anne

Holly Nicole                                 Jaime Anne                              Jeremy Greenwood               Megan Ruth

He said, “You can’t wrangle a wook.”                                                              She said, “we wranglin’ each other.”

Surrounded by family, many of the highlights of the weekend revolved around the family jam at camp. Sitting around the fire playing guitars reminded her of Grandpa Smith and the years spent doing that very thing at church picnics and family gatherings. But now it was Kamp Happiness with all the hippies stopping by to sing and play. Same songs as grandpa played. Best case scenario, we lock it down and create a safe, greasy place for the herd to coalesce. Music, lights and hippies. I love you in an all the way way.

Essential Productions, a Midwest-based music event production team, and producers of Resonate Suwannee teamed up with friend and park ambassador Paul Levine of Purple Hat Productions. This newly formed partnership, exceptional lineup, and the beauty of Suwannee has inspired one of the best festival experiences around. Our thanks to Paul Levine for letting the wranglers be involved from Purple Hatter’s to Rising, Hulaween to Resonate. The influence and family vibe from those festivals all the way back to Bear Creek could be felt throughout the weekend. When it works so well at the top, the glitter trickles down to every aspect of the festival.

Visit the Resonate website and like their social media channels on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Science is real, escape the firmament.

Of course Lucy got yelled at a couple times by park personnel. Was she driving a little over five miles an hour? Yes. But shutting down the Circle K? Trading Post seemed a little harsh. Sadly no wheeling and dealing until dark? As much as she’d dealt with the park over the years, she realized that when it came down to it, they had the same goals and were all working toward the same end. They all wanted folks to come to the park, have fun and be safe. And of course the wranglers like to arrive there through the middle of the Lego chrysanthemum.

Monday Exit Strategy: As always, the slow breakdown with Tenderfoot followed the Suwannee exit strategy. Just helping finish the tanks. They picked up the butts, dumped the food and scored two new canopies. Not too shabby. Four in the afternoon was the hard line for the sheriff so they were out just before that. From there the road led to Mexican Monday and a hot shower in a cheap motel.

“How do you get a wook out of your car?”

“Well, lemme see. Hmmm. How do you?”

“It’s not a joke. I mean really, how do you get a wook out of your car?”

This group of engineers gathered together like some kind of think tank and began planning the block party at Hulaween. This was the core of that family. They would be back in a few months with a vengeance. This festival came off without a hitch and friends and family came together to frolic in the womb of the Spirit of Suwannee. Sitting on the blanket, around the fire with a celebration of timeless joy. It’s a kind of magic that reveals itself when all the pieces come together and practice makes perfect.

Follow the wranglers as we head to Ozark, AR and Backwoods at Mulberry Mountain. We hope to find Spider Master Kush and Penny Lane with Kamp Happiness for more frabjous exaltations. It is a treasure you seek, just not of silver and gold.                                                                                                       namaste y’all.

The post Resonate “23: A Truly Beautiful Picture appeared first on wook wranglers.

Lucy and Bucket were once again heading south leaving Pop’s Farm and Rooster Walk in the rear view mirror. The Summer Mountain Festival Lyme Disease Tour was over and all guilty parties had lost weight, respect and brain cells. For six months they’d been “living” at camping festivals across Ol Dominion and managed to discover some fresh smells in West Virginia, Illinois and Arkansas. As plan-A was still in effect they steered for the lower latitudes and the Suwannee Roots Revival happening at the Spirit of Suwannee Music Park. The weather had been ideal as they left the mountains and by the time they showed up in Live Oak it remained ultimately perfect. They had been successful in their attempt to shift with the sun as it naturally rolled south for the winter. They listened to Jerry rip off “Goin’ down the road feelin’ bad” as they eased through the paper mill, low-country of south Georgia.

This is where it all started. Nineteen years ago they came to their first festival here in Live Oak. It was usually about the third weekend in October and Alabama was always playing Tennessee. Back in those days the squad would hunker around an outdoor television in the loop, watch football, play bluegrass and dip their fingers in pot butter. This festival has always been the alpha. They were the first to pick up the wranglers as a media outlet back when they sold mining equipment and fresh pastries in the wook wranglers mercantile. Est.1884) and somewhere along the long black train they’d been assimilated by Kamp Happiness and it’s band of convicted predators. Roots has always been deep in family. This is all the way down.

Shredders such as Sam Bush, The Infamous Stringdusters, Jim Lauderdale, Nikki Talley, Leftover Salmon and many more represented some of the best ever to call Suwannee a home and a real return to the blasting furnace style line-ups that have always been associated with this party. The vendors, the food and the service at the park lived up to it’s stellar reputation. Lucy was thrilled to see the amphitheater stage again filled with dancing, hammocks and hula-hoops reminding her of how the spot would always hold most of the significant musical memories of her life.

High rope swings, low expectations and stolen golf carts

Baitbucket had learned in his travels that while one could start a Club Car with a pocket knife an EZ-Go usually required a key. He would just stand by the cart and wait for another EZ-Go to come by and ask to use their key. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Moonshine’s golf cart keys were in the ignition so he and Kristin distracted Shannon with a box of whippets and “borrowed” it to fetch a piece of plywood for their mural that would never happen. The squawking, screeching sound that emitted from Moonshine upon the EZ-Gos return was a hopeless yelp that could be heard all the way to the horse stalls and beyond. Witnesses would recall it as a mournful wail and difficult to forget. That paired with the fact that Blancito had stolen his air horn made the entire scene slightly sad and embarrassing.

Jesse (828 trash) had fashioned some kind of amazing contraption using sandbags and ropes which few had ever witnessed. After supporting the rigging from multiple trees and branches he turned it into a giant swing. Leaping off and cracking Moonshine’s golf cart roof he could be seen gliding through the entire camp like some kind of spun monkey. High science indeed. Is that your beard that smells like tears and regret?

Devil’s advocate: Lucy did well understand what it was to be scared of thieves in golf carts. Earlier that month she’d finally been given one as a staff employee in Virginia, which was unusual, and watched in horror as a crazed thug drove away in the stolen vehicle. Terrifying to be sure. So she well understood the brutal aspects of life that could turn otherwise reasonable men into completely unhinged bitches. She also had no cooler and was using Moonshine’s to keep her PBRs cold so making concessions is not the same as selling out.

Perverts and meth mouth–The night gets even darker

As always, Spacebug set her tent up directly next to the fire where Fritz passed out with his head on the corner of her bed. At some point, like a patient cheeta stalking a young gazelle, he moved in for the kill and gave her foot a long lick with his yellow, catlike tongue. She retaliated by jack-kicking him square in the mouf, sending the top row of his dentures shooting into the smoldering embers on the edge of the fire. Thinking and moving unusually quickly, Dr. Thermometer yanked them out of the coals with a pair of salad tongs but not before the scalded damage to the acrylic turned his gaping maw into the perfect picture of a Wilkesboro meth mouth.

And then there was the other long-haired hippy who reckoned himself an irresistible charcuterie board of thundering sexual machismo. As his female friend wished him farewell he gently placed his hand on her firm bottom. Both Nikita (the Russian mail order bride) and Samantha (the dirty whore with the big dick) would agree that the potential misstep of hubris should be considered when operating well inside the hula hoop without consent.

Baitbucket understood the world of the pervert. Lord knows he did. His whiskers still smelled like four day old Brie. Gitterdun Turner had always been known to swing for the fences in colorfully inappropriate ways but he was always forward and honest about the grease and accepted the reality that it usually involved getting slapped in the side of the head. His batting average was about .200 unless he played the fiddle on one leg, then it shot way up. Baitbucket had one foot on each side of the fence as he had a daughter but had also long ago joined the Dirty Old Man’s Club along with Scotty Smiles and Shrimphead. Who indeed could cast the first stone at the unwashed heathen but in the modern day how could the camp be called Happiness with all the girls getting felt up and licked? Going forward it might need to be changed to Kamp Nikita’s Dirty Sanchez Pleasure Palace, Kamp No Means Yes and Yes Means Anal or even Kamp Crocheted Phallus On Your Neck Party (diva pink of course). By the time of this printing, memos had already begun circulating the upper offices of Kamp Happiness. Research and Development would be putting their top men on it in the very near future.

Baitbucket woke up in his hammock, his mouth and pockets filled with ground glitter, loose tobacco and chemical sediment. He reached for a water bottle next to the fire which proved to be leftover moonshine, an occupational hazard in this camp always. He wasn’t ready for the liquid fire but fought to keep it down as he picked up a second bottle. The night before the VIP stage had been smoking dope out of some plastic connector on a small water bottle. It was basically a homemade water bong like that guy invented with a pen and aluminum foil back in high school. It had been haphazardly left around the fire without the tube attachment. He put the bong water to his lips and drank slowly as the precious elixir made it’s way deep into his vast array of biological systems. Fuck you Waffle. Good morning world. Here we go again.

Katie Ratchet’s Cooler of Good Intentions

As a gesture of responsible, adult consideration, she was prepared to cook a dinner for everyone. She’d planned the entire menu from the crab cake and mushroom appetizers to the stuffed corn dogs. For desert it was cream filled biscuits over the fire. The planning was detailed and meticulous. She’d also shopped for a breakfast of dirty grits and mason jar eggs. She loved her friends dearly and was ready to show it, be part of the party and help keep the wooks alive. Food=energy=chaos. This was to be a special Katie Magic experience.

Skip to…Monday morning found the cooler forgotten and alone. There had been no meals of which to speak and everyone was gaunt and nearly starving. The ice chest had been sitting in the sun for four days and its contents had devolved into a burbling yellowish-brown jelly. At times the shapeless chunks seemed to pulsate as if through heat, pressure and chemical reaction, life had somehow found a way. Katie Ratchet subsequently left the cooler with the post-party crowd as a dinner groundscore.

Lucy was forced to dig into her mushroom-potato Tasty Bites from Rooster which she found to be both exceptional and filling. For desert she had homemade crème brûlée sprinkled with milk thistle, for healthy liver function, headaches and more diarrhea.

Cleopatra and Ka’ioli, late night brutality and the pocket that “ain’t gonna hold itself”. 

Ka’ioli usually didn’t usually do drugs while the sun was still up. The scrolls of recent history had listed countless chapters of his exploits illustrating that when he lurked beyond his usual Miller Lites his actions could consistently be measured as underwhelming or whelming at best. That afternoon he’d been consuming lighter fluid aioli paired with ketamine and it wasn’t agreeing with his regularly scheduled paranoid schizophrenia already in session. He was thrown out of Keller and the Keels for screaming, “Take it off Jenny!” and he’d begun getting testy with everyone, especially Lucy. He bitch-slapped Mario for taking one of his Miller Lites without asking and after a while Lucy had just about had enough. She considered running him over in a golf cart but after the last theft, she’d just as soon go the rest of her life without hearing that cackling clucking chicken sound again. She also knew of a trail on the way to the river where it was slippery with pine needles and leaves directly next to the cliff hanging thirty feet over the limestone rocks. It would be a perfect place to end the tortuous din and send him to his great reward.

She considered all of the variables. Ka’ioli was known to have a shy sphincter and his PTSD wouldn’t let him drive on the interstate. Lucy contemplated how this information could be used. She attempted to soften him up with some groundscored DMT but he’d ingested too much fluoride as a child and his pineal gland had become calcified and useless. There would have to be another way.

Lucy was growing more uncomfortable. In increasingly furtive moves Ka’ioli had begun using his outstretched arm to measure the distance between their heads. Lucy recognized this meant she should be ready for a roundhouse kick at any time. Herself a practicing Buddhist, she wasn’t allowed to engage in physical altercations but called out to her sponsor Sunnie Ray who promptly arrived, tackled Ka’ioli and seared his earlobe with a lit cigarette. Give yourself an A+ after all girl.

In a separate altercation, Baitbucket decided to approach it in the way of the ancients. The old way. He would sweep the leg and shove a shank in Ka’ioli’s eye hole. That would teach the bastard once and for all not to screw with the forces of fate. At some point during the tussle he realized he’d made a moderate mistake and hadn’t counted on Ka’ioli’s idiot strength. After getting the better of him Ka’ioli had Baitbucket wearing her Saturday Cleopatra mop wig on Friday and, in a display of ownership and power learned at Falkenburg Road Jail, had her grip onto his unfurled back pocket as they strolled lazily through the festival.

The drama continued and at about four in the afternoon the whole scene had begun to whither into a cruel and stagnant puddle. Crowther failed to notice the tree stump as he backed away from the fire, collapsing onto the corner of Bill’s fire wood trailer. He’d sheared his sixth and seventh lumbar nerves sending the Kamp Happiness rangers into motion who immediately went to work on the laceration with butter and crotch whiskey. Baitbucket fetched a crate of Jevinate for the feeding tube. “Don’t worry. Although it tastes like shit, it will also give you more raging diarrhea.” Although injured Crowther was able to muster his remaining strength and show up at Jeff’s cottage for the late night “group masturbation” clinic featuring Xavier, Justin and Shawn. Looking forward to Cornucopia Festival.

Speaking of diarrhea. Steve Little had always been known as great forger. Since his time conducting Black Ops out of Lybia, he’d been able to create flawless reproductions of passports, birth certificates, Advance Open Water dive cards, just about anything. But his Pietà had to be the be the “Artist” lanyard creation from Roots Revival. Cut out words scotch taped to pink loose leaf paper, it was a work of vision and obvious labor of love. Whether it’s the presence of greatness or the infinite hours of practice that go into a master’s work, the quality is hard to deny. For inquiries and concession donations contact the Suwannee County Stockade Monday through Friday.

Thanks to Katie Waffle for working so hard behind the lens. Most of the photographs here belong to her. And if you get a chance, check out one of her famous, small mountain gin and tonic supremes. Thanks to Dreamspider Publicity and Events for allowing us to see the silliness way up close. Maybe too close. Thanks to Jeff at Roadtrip Mojo for slugging down all of our peppered sangria and banana schnapps. You told me to tell you when you’re acting that way…Well you are. And in the words of Lord Chamberlain of Essex, “Bitch better have my money.”

Baitbucket stared out over Tampa bay from a front porch in Oldsmar. He was finishing up this article and the weather was still 82 degrees with a light breeze coming out of the west. He was waiting for the call that said he would be staff at Hulaween and a step toward sustainability and legitimacy. Regardless, he would rest for a few days, like a vampire that buries himself to regenerate and then would return to Suwannee where he’d been ejected only a few days earlier while beginning construction on the Kamp Happiness installation. His camp had been violated and his Summer Camp “Restricted Access” sign stolen by animals. So there’s that. He hoped and expected this return to the park would be marked by a loving openness and relentless, savage energy.

Keep up with Kamp Ha-Penis as we head to Hulaween for a relaxing weekend of good rest, camping and responsible adult fun…                                  namaste y’all.

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