So... what do you get when four rather eccentric people voyage into the mountainous jungle barefoot in the dead of night on the rainiest of weekends?
Existential literature in a tree house dangling precariously over a ravine, of course!
And a whole lot of dirt, grime, and sour airhead wrappers.
And a drippy night under ragged blankets with a beautiful view.
And a whole lot of dirt, grime, and sour airhead wrappers.
...And spending the next day eating things like spam and pancakes, fording rivers, watching Paris Hilton's My New BFF, and giving each other raspberries.
love, filth, and hobo urine-saturated mattresses,
Anna