Ah, this is the stuff reality TV is made of. Take one naiive, cranky, straight-laced person, and toss them into a mud-soaked, drug-fueled music festival. Hilarity ensues. I'll admit, I'd probably have as much fun as she did, but I can recognize an un-fun time and avoid it if possible. Rainy, muddy Rollag? I can do that happily. Pseudo-Woodstock? Sorry, I'll stay home. I'm not quite as tightly-wound as Ms. Petronella Wayatt, though: I'd laugh if <Wikipedia was edited to make me appear to be a crazed whacko.
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