Words by: Beth Commons
1. It’s a BYO camping music festival, dawg. That means you can BRING YOUR OWN alcohol and vice of choice. No questions asked. ‘Why are you drinking 5 Seeds?’ Example of a question that I did not once get asked.
2. There’s amazing music happening at all times.
- No Zu, for example, played a really beautifully long set that ripped me apart. I was dancing a lot. There was a conga line. I hate conga lines but I think they’re real cool to watch form. There were about fifty people doing a conga. World record? No way. Still big, though.
- Hip Hop collective Outlordz graced the stage with their aggressive presence leaving everyone feeling like they just witnessed something pretty special. I got excited watching them, I felt like I was offered a pretty intimate and lucky experience to see them. Their rhymes are tight az and their lyrics are ice cold.
- Kirin J Callinan, man. He besotted the audience with his stoicism. He’s a Big Deal.
3. There’s friends around every bend. Doogs is one of those situations where the idea of social standing is non-existent. Obviously this is what we all want to believe happens everyday, but Doogs sends a message to all participants: You’re all equal. You’re all ready to party. Some guy came up to me and introduced himself with a shrug that seemed to acknowledge that what he was doing was purely a Doogs action. We spoke briefly and then I didn’t see him again for the rest of the weekend. I know his name, now, though. Another name in the name bank of my mind. Cool.
4. There’s a river. It’s got leeches in it but who cares go for a dip who even cares about the leeches not me.
5. There’s insane wildlife everywhere.
6. There’s many activities. I kept forgetting to attend any of them but that’s my own problem. Cheese yoga was a thing. Stick n Poke tattoos were a thing. Lots of things so little time. I’m super sad I missed out on the Stick n Poke but it’s actually probably for the best because the state that I was in probably lent itself to my tattooing ‘GOOD DOOGS’ on my forehead or something.
6. Hay bales. Bet you’ve never got up close and personal with a hay bale before, have you? Doogs is your chance. Get real weird with it.
8. Are you a blossom? Like a blossoming artist? Camp Doogs introduced a thing this year called ‘Wild Doogs’ which was a half scheduled, half open mic extravaganza (that word is so gross why did I just use it) that was held on a husk of a bus. There were hay bales outside of this, too. Hay bales, man.
9. Tents. I’m not into camping, I’m going to be honest with you. But Camp Doogs is my one exception. Also, there’s something great about knowing that at 5am when you’re walking around talking about something weird with your pals in hushed tones there’s definitely a sleepy lil fella inside a tent listening to your every word. Okay, I was that lil fella. I was listening to you from inside my tent. People discuss some fucked up topics. Great work.
10. Endless dancing. Amazing light art typography.
11. The food. Somebody told me at about 3am on Saturday night that Mac n Cheese toasties were available. I just want to take this opportunity to say where the fuck was mine and why did nobody tell me about those sooner? You’re all a bunch of secretive food hoarders, how dare you. But Comida do Sol satisfied my Coxinha cravings hardcore. I spent the weekend living off of Coxinhas. Little chicken mashed potato parcels. You can’t really go wrong. Unless you don’t eat chicken, I guess. Only then can you go wrong.
Also that cool food van that had that huge menu consisting of hot doggy dogs and chips and gravy. Chips and gravy at 2am in the morning is one of my better decisions that I made at camp. What does that say about my decisions, hey? It says bad things about my decisions.
12. The Once A Year Shower. Once Doogs is all done and you’ve made a series of decisions throughout your weekend, you’re going to go home and have a shower. This shower is no ordinary shower, mate. This shower is the blissful cascade that is your return to normality. You’re washing the Doogs off. You’re gazing into the hairy plug hole that lies at the bottom of your shower and watching the Doogs swim away. So long, Doogs, see you in 362 days.