I intentionally left my house with zero dollars and zero cents for Strictly Jungle, just to make things interesting. We teamed up with other party kids to find the "map point" and directions to the venue -an abandoned warehouse in a commercial zone, invisible to the outside world. Did I mention that this took place on Friday the 13th? With a full moon hanging overhead? In a scary urban burnout commercial district? The surrounding blocks were drained of life from years of commerce, giving Strictly Jungle the perfect Nightmare in Los Angeles look and feel, fitting the dark and scary all Jungle event we were in for. A dub of the blue Kingpin tape labeled “Thanks for Strictly Jungle from Rave On Magazine” for one promoter was our admission.

We were in. A sea of dark clothes and serious expressions, dark basslines and serious beats, dank clouds of smoke and acid stares. The vibe you associate with Jungle. Intimidating, until the first bass line, when your tounge sticks out, and your head tilts back, and your body springs two feet off the ground. You look happy, so smiles appear. There are a lot of cool people here, people you can talk to about Diesel Boy, or Photography, or Photoshop, or anything. People who care about Jungle, who want it to be healthy, who support the scene. Stereotypical Junlgists that look, talk, and act like Junglists, with a few exceptions.

A handful of Kandy Kids were roaming about, sucking on pacifiers, wearing Kandy, rolling. They tripped me out, so I asked one if he felt out of place. "I love Jungle." he said. He wasn't out of place at all.

Inside, away from the $75 B-Boy contest, were the illest breakers. Performing in the middle of a twenty foot circle, camera flashes highlighted handstands and other memorable poses. A twenty foot circle most of the crowd did even consider entering, seemingly reserved for Breakers.

A few feet away were people doing their own thing, teaching eachother to dance, not battling. Busting out to have a good time, not to see who is the dopest of them all. I wanted to test out the vibe of this party one more time, so I went to the booth that was selling water and told them that I did not have any money (true), but really needed water (true). I said that I would give my last cigarette for a half used bottle of water. "You are really that desperate?" The vendor said. "Yes" I responded. The vendor and was nice enough to buy me a water.

With my water in had I went outside to hear people yelling at each other. It looked like the beginning of a playground rumble. Police were in front of the venue, and there was a sense of danger and hostility. Just before 4:20 the music was stopped. Rumors spread that the party was busted. Many left, but the music came back full force a half hour later. It was very late but there was no way I was going to leave this Junglist Sanctuary until the music had stopped one final time. As seems to be the case more and more these days, I liked the party the most at this stage. All the quasi ravers went home, and the vibe got tighter. Together with the most hardcore-diehard Junglist anywhere, we finished what started. It was Hugs all around for people we would not see in the regular world, and to them I say : Until we meet again in the Jungle dimension