The Goal: Do Fun Fun Fun Fest on 5 dollars a day, or less while staying stoned and drunk.
Rouge correspondent, Farm Fresh, was first on the scene Sunday, so she paid it forward with a visit to the Logan's Run inspired Camel Tent to score me a free pack. For those of you who didn't fall prey to Camel's seductive, neon siren cry, let me assure you: you're a better person because of it. In addition to having impossibly attractive people force handfulls of creepy new smokeless tobacco products on you (Snus), it also felt like a room where ET life performs anal probes, where bygone ravers are resurrected, and where all of your personal information is filed in a master mainframe -- most likely blacklisting you from the new National Health Care Plan. But fuck it. It kept me in smokes through Danzig.
The Plan: Use the remaining half of day two's buried booze and smuggle in more.
Since we still had some buried booze on premises, we only needed to smuggle in a supplemental supply. A friend from work lent me her boozenoculars, giant duel flasks that masquerade as stuffy old "ordinary" binoculars. Let 'em check your decoy, NPR tote bag. It's clean. I know what you're thinking: "Hey, Kind Robot, that's great and all, but what about mixers?"
The answer? Do The Bustle.
Baby doll dresses are terribly forgiving of form. Create a make-shift bustle in the back and you too could smuggle in one liter containers of tonic, loaves of bread, hunks of cheese, etc. Hell, you might even turn a few heads with all that junk in your trunk.
The Outcome:
Five dollars on chicken flautas during Day One. Totes worth it since fried doesn't smuggle well. Day Two? Zero spent, plus two free packs of smokes. I declare this mission a success. But don't go digging around Waterloo expecting to find our castoffs; So Like Yeah girls take lessons from the boy scouts. We take only photos and leave only footprints.
Rent. Emergency trips to the vet. That trendy griffin costume at Halloween. All of that stuff accumulates financially, and it has a tendency to happen during periods with gross quantities of EFP (Explosive Fun Potential). But you don’t have to be flush to have fun; you just need to start acting like a Goonie.
THE PLAN: Bury two days worth of booze in advance to avoid friction with gate guards.
Not only was this really fun, but it worked like a champ. A fellow Goonie and dear friend of So Like Yeah printed out the map from FFF Fest’s website and brought a mag light, so that we wouldn’t dig down where porta potties, stages, or – most ironic of all – bars, were slated to be placed.
I pruned out a little citrus, some lemongrass and other herbs from my yard, shoved them in mason jars, then filled them with vodka. I put those and tonic bottles into freezer-sized zipper bags, grabbed a shovel and met my fellow Goonie at Waterloo Park several days prior to the festival. We hurled the shovel over the fence, snuck in through a gap, found our spots and did some digging. (Also, an FYI: After retrieving your booze, those FFF Fest maps can be rolled into excellent funnels.)
THE RESULT: Did it work? My hangover thinks so. 
There’s only one problem with this plan: it doesn’t take human nature into consideration. A drunk with buried treasure isn’t going to practice moderation. Needless to say, the drunker we got the more we wanted to dig up the second pile, so we tapped into Sunday’s supply early. That’s alright. We have a plan for Day Two as well.
