Coachella is nothing if not a place for Leonardo DiCaprio to prove he's still young enough (emotionally) to be dating twentysomething Victoria's Secret models. When it comes to the insanity that is Coachella, nothing surprises our jaded, culturally appropriated hearts anymore. Not even Leo's journey to find the highest quality of molly. We've become, dare I say, amused by the strangeness of it all. That is, until Coachella 2016. When a group of festivalgoers did the unthinkable.
To the ten of you who attempted to send your tax returns through Coachella's post office—which, according to the Daily Mail, "technically isn't a real post office, more of an intermediary between festivalgoers and the real local post"—I salute you.
I salute you for proving that our country is in deep despair, not because of terrorism threats, or because of our impending sociopathic president that's definitely fucking at least 2 of his daughters, or because of the wage gap. I salute you for proving that our country is in deep despair because people like you exist. People dumb enough to bring their taxes all the way to a music festival, and then actually think, "Hey! this fake looking post-office seems like a good place to send these taxxy document like thinggy mabobs." A post office that, might I remind you again, IS NOT EVEN REAL.
Donald Trump, welcome to the shit show that is America. You and Calvin Harris can have it. And while you're here, might as well burn all the books. Clearly we aren't using them anymore.