Wonderhussy packs for Burning Man!

Every year I take too much crap to Burning Man -- food I don't eat, sparkly bras I never wear.This year will be different … this year, I’m only bringing what I really need:

• 10 gallons of water (for drinking and bathing -- OK, pit-and-groin-swabbing)
• 1 gallon of vodka
• 750 ml of rum
• The finest boxed wine available (glass bottles are frowned upon, so I’m slumming)
• Jerky
• More jerky
• Even more jerky
• Twinkies (dessert)
• 144 baby wipes (for on-the-go pit-and-groin swabbing)
• Jumbo roll of duct tape
• Dust mask/bandanna (they say this will be the dustiest year ever)
• Goggles (fur-trimmed, of course)
• Rebar and rope (to stake down my camper -- I’ve had a camper blown over and destroyed in the gale-force winds that sometimes spring up)
• Pee funnel (a sort of prosthetic penis that allows women to pee while standing, thus allowing my delicate asscheeks to avoid contact with the shockingly foul port-a-potty seats)
• Nail polish (not so much for vanity as to hide the grime buildup behind the fingernails)
• 11 wigs (the best and most fun way to protect one’s hair from becoming hopelessly dreadlocked)
• 7 pairs of shiny spandex pants
• 5 sparkly bras (I told you, I’m cutting down this year)
• Fur coat (for those chilly high desert nights … and for all the E-tards to dry-hump)
• Platform boots (all the better to leave a ginormous carbon footprint, as if all the Twinkie wrappers and propane-belching mechanical octopi weren’t enough)
• Bicycle and bike repair kit
• Drum, tambourine, maracas
• Hula hoop
• Clown nose
• Book (sometimes you do want to escape from all the hullabaloo and just chill in the shade)
• Earplugs
• Tampons (thought I certainly didn’t invite her, my Aunt Flo might show up … and if she doesn’t, I can soak them in vodka for a time-release, hands-free buzz)
• Mushrooms (to make vegetarian pizza for my campmates)
• I might take my legally prescribed medicinal marijuana (shhhh … Burning Man is on BLM land, under federal jurisdiction; the feds don’t recognize medical marijuana, but by the time they read this I’ll be knee deep in playa dust, wearing nothing but a clown wig and a hula hoop … they’ll never recognize me!)