It's not even so much that raver gear surprises, shocks, or horrifies me any more. That's not what gets me. I'm just amazed that kids are still overloading their senses on questionable drugs and more questionable music on the weekends like we're still in 1998 Essex or something.

Let's just say he doesn't fire arrows. Bring a poncho to Vegas next time you're there.

Not sure what style of dressing this is.

This clothing brought to you by Mountain Dew.

If there was such a thing as a fairy god-mother of crack this would be it. And apparently someone followed her home.