Eli: No. I did the puking noise.
Kara: I want to say -- what do I want to say? Supercalafragalisticxbalidocious. Hyuhh. Umm...I hate tie-dye and peace signs. I like peace.
Gideon: Well, I think that Elvis was not here. Also, I think that...well...I would have liked it if more asses were out. Men's asses. For beers. REally. There were these people who were across the stream from us, and they were fighting. They said "bitch" and stuff. It was not peaceful. I have drank no pepsi.
Naomi: I don't know. NO, DON'T WRITE THAT. I was in a hunting accident. And I was trapped by another man's elk, and I lost a lot of blood I had like three tablespoons.
Kara: Gideon, can't your superiors at work see this?
Gideon: I would like to take this opportunity to mention a few things. The bands were nice, from my vantage point on my back in the tent. ACtually, sleeping on the lumps of tree was not too bad, all things considered. Eli slept quite well until we put pop tarts and shit on her.
Eli: Fuck you, Gideon.
Naomi: Guck, Fideon.
Gideon: Well, I think the announcer was/is lame. I think Bob Dylan is stoned or something, and a lot of the people here are really drunk and male.
Eli: But we like it like that.
Kara: I think the people here are pigs.
Gideon: Thus the mud.
Naomi: With small tails.
ALL: Let's go now. Peace out, all.