Yesterday around 10 am PST the 2015 Coachella lineup was released and every crunchy betch lost her fucking mind. Betches LOVE to comment on lineups, i.e. “Zomg I’ve seen Kaskade like 5 times but whatevs I’ll definitely catch his set” or “I totally heard that Steve Angello is making a surprise appearance for a Swedish House Mafia reunion on night two.” But this is all just to seem chill while internally we pick out our outfits and run through our contact list of drug dealers no sooner than 3 months in advance.
The lineup release commences our diet of air and ice cubes so that in the slight chance we wind up standing next to Kate Bosworth during The Weeknd our arms look the same size. Coachella encompasses all things a betch gets off on: it’s a fucking fashion show, we get to pull out our smallest $200 high-waisted shorts, people blackout for 3 days, drugs are flying, and there’s a pretty good chance you’ll see Vanessa Hudgens.
Everyone knows that only flosers go to weekend 2 because weekend 1 gets all the good celebrities (dead holograms and otherwise) and plus betches never come in second for anything. Tickets might sell out in 5 seconds, but that’s why for every one betch in a flower crown are four back-burner bros sitting on the ticket page, clicking refresh. See you on the polo fields, not that we’ll remember.