Scantytown posted the above snap, presumably with the misguided women who danced for us, turning their personality flaws into archetypes worthy of worship. Julia uploaded some nonsense from Amber Bray. These women are so creative! Such artists! Why bother to write or paint or play the piano or attempt to create anything when such goddesses live among us?
No video or photos yet, type-A haters, but a first-hand account from someone who attended the “drama queen/life of the party” embarrassment with friends.
On Wednesday, our group was deciding what to do for the night and someone mentioned a party at Camp Mystic. I calmly explained that that sounded cool. When we got around to getting there I was shocked. I know it’s easy to assume that all BM is like Julia’s friends and as a newbie I was thinking maybe 50% would be grifty hippies but honestly? I knew as soon as we rode up that we were in the right place. The camp was so overdone and fake hippie. Ugly and manufactured. VERY different from every other large camp I went to. We went inside the main tent and we’re immediately accosted by a smell that I can only describe as 150 bottles of various essential oils having spilled in 150 pieces of luggage on the way there. It was awful and arresting. There was a stage and hammocks hanging around the edge of the scaffolding structure of the room and beds hidden behind corners. My friend said this camp was big into polyamory. Mhmmm. No surprise there.
There were a bunch of people standing, sitting and laying watching the worst singer ever sing the stupidest and most repetitive song. Something like “take me, take me/break me, break me.” It was very 14-year-old-Fiona-Apple-fan-learning-guitar-chords-and-fucking-around. I look around and see a woman in a huge headdress sitting on a ledge/shrine and breast feeding a toddler (in a room with pounding music at 10:30). It’s fucking ANNIE LALA. I start to bust up into giggles. At which point I begin to gradually explain why we have to hang out for a little while in this awful place to my friends. They all seemed vicariously amused, thankfully.
In the next few minutes of scanning, I find Nisha Moodley (pretty and normal looking but in a get-up worthy of this crowd), Jena La Flamme (also pretty but not at all friendly), and Derwin (!!!) (derp face fo lyfe).
But I don’t see her. THEN, right backstage, I see a huge full length rainbow and hot pink technicolor dreamcoat number paired with a Tiara. No. No. Is it?!?! It fucking IS. She looks ridiculous and out of place. Ducking in and out of vision and touching on Nisha and some other chick. Then she goes up on stage to the DJ, giving instructions. Oh, shit. Is she gonna perform?!?! I’d really rather not see her orgasm, please. As the performance starts, I realize what it is. I’ve stumbled right into her archetypes performance!
Oh god, you guys, it was SO bad. The music sucked, most of them couldn’t dance, the Dr. Seuss rhythmed poems about each woman, and the music delays. It was the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen. Julia did this, like, evil sorceress dance for the drama queen part and then she ripped off her dreamcoat to reveal a little silver top and some gold lame pants and did some peppy attempt at a sexy dance for her “life of the party” bit. She is SO ungrateful. I don’t remember her song choices at all!! I should have written them down. Sorry, guys. It was a long week. All I remember is them being tired and played out. After her big part she did some supporting dancing with the other chicks in which she constantly struggled to pull focus. Duh.
Nisha was fine and seemed sweet. Ali Shanti has a hot body and can actually dance! She and the other girl doing the slut portion were actually really good together. And they’re song choices were modern and fun. Jena was the gold digger, dressed all in gold with a Hindu headdress, playing the song “Gold Digger” while holding an actual miniature gold shovel. RELAX, Jena. The song was a fun throwback though. I’ll admit I got down for a minute. She can also dance but was at the same time awkward as hell. She looks and moves like a robot human prototype.
The whole performance was terrible, uninteresting, poorly executed and the kind of thing I’d be embarrassed to be part of. Unless I was Ali. But being okay within the context of a bad show is still bad.
Comments from my friends during the show:
“I definitely get why people hate her.”
“How is she pulling off dancing so annoyingly?”
“Oh my god, does she almost have abs?”
“Why is she dressed like that?”
“Why is she doing that?”
“Is she marrying herself because no one else will?”
A quick description and ten minutes in her presence and they totally get it. We laughed so hard throughout. Which felt so counter to every other experience out there. It’s a community of support, you know? But I have to say – I saw a lot of strange performances out there last week. And nothing else made me embarrassed to be an audience member.
After about 20 years spent plotting and scheming to one day land a big, ostentatious, cheesy white wedding by marrying a dude, preferably a wealthy one willing to pay with the rest of his life, Donk is FINALLY getting married today.
To herself. Because who the hell else would have her?
We have enlisted spies and are hoping those spies send images and video as soon as possible. However, there is no judgment in Black Rock City, except for the widespread judgment of anyone with an Internet connection, so fingers crossed, BITCHES (EDS: Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? Don’t say BITCHES on RBD — or anywhere else. I am reporting you.)
Feel the joy, angry type-A haters! We are finally getting our wedding!
Who could possibly forget when she popped her Burning Man cherry in 2011 by flashing her ass just months after frantically attempting to convince the McCains that she was good Republican housewife material until, of course, Guam tore apart the Greatest Love Ever Known by making marriage utterly impossible until Pancakes married someone else a year later?
For some reason our photo gallery of the madness contains dead photos, but here is Guest of a Guest’s, the site she claimed never to have heard of even though she was a constant target for years and often emailed rage-filled missives to the site she’d … ahem … never heard of.