All the way out one end of camp is Bianca's Smut Shack, the perfect place to hang out in the heat. Passing under the entrance to the tent, maybe a hundred people sprawl on the many couches, reading photocopied erotic comics and sex toy magazines, halfheartedly making out, waiting for the kitchen to cough up the next round of grilled-cheese sandwiches. A couple of Space Cowgirls come in, and start harrassing the patrons, insulting their clothes and trying to incite some anger. It's not too successful; how seriously can you take someone in silver lamé, with pink pigtails and a bullhorn? You move on: past two men getting their heads shaved by three naked women while fifty people watch; past a serious circle of people with their butts nailed to the clay watching a game of giant alien chess; past four naked revelers up to their necks in playa mud; past Band Camp's huge surplus Mercedes troop transports; past a stunning display of Etch-a-Sketch artworks. Enough! Time for some coffee.