I never felt so sick as when I tried to get well.

The most damaged person there was the “Shaman” himself, stinking drunk in soaking wet tighty-whities.

A year later he fell, or was more likely pushed, out of one of the treehouses on his armed compound.

This must be where cheap souvenirs go when they die.

To fund our class trip to The Peyote Way Church of God, a non-sectarian, multicultural, experiential, Peyotist organization located in the remote Aravaipa wilderness of southeastern Arizona, as part of our Human Experience program, we need NEA Learning and Leadership funds, with which we will develop and improve tools and strategies for the continued improvement of college student consciousness that we can share nationwide.

Please don’t hurt me, Mr. Customs man.

I promise I did not go to the beach or have a good time.