The fucked up subconsciouses of Noisey readers, seen for the first time.
This is either going to be the worst idea we've ever had or a groundbreaking glimpse at our collective subconscious.
Drag queens, death threats, giant wooden dildos and everything else you'd never see on BBC Three.
Glastonbury is the only festival worth arriving early for.
Watching the psychological summersaults of someone trying to convince themselves they made the right decision not to buy a ticket.
You will park an eternity away from the campsite, you will walk for miles, and you will get a yoghurt for breakfast.
All the confirmed artists, line-up rumours and other bullshit you need.
Everyone's writing about how Prince and Daft Punk could headline. But it might be worse.