Everyone Back Off and Let Flume Eat Some Burning Man Ass

As you may have heard (or, worse, seen), Flume ate some ass at Burning Man.

The Australian DJ/producer is probably far from the only person who has ever munched on some raw rump at Burning Man, but he’s certainly been chewed out over it more than anyone. What’s the big deal? Let the dude dig in to some grade-A derriere, we say!

In an Instagram video posted by his alleged girlfriend, writer and actress Paige Elkington, someone held up a sign in the crowd during his set at the desert festival that read, “Does Flume even eat ass.” The answer was: yes. And he was willing to prove he doesn’t just go down unda for some tasty Marmite. Cut to Flume lifting Elkington by her haunches and delicately stuffing his face between her cheeks for two seconds, getting in what appears to be a quick lick or two before lowering her back down. The caption in the video read, “sorry mom.”

Following the tongue lashings he’s received about the incident, Flume has broken his silence by posting a photo of himself smiling with a peach against his mouth on his Instagram and Twitter pages, with the caption “it was a joke (sorry mum).” He added a peach emoji—the universally recognized emoji symbol for ass.

But what does he have to be sorry about? Nothing, that’s what. What happens between one person’s mouth and another person’s butthole and a crowd of Burning Man attendees is their business. So the guy got a cheesy gordita butt crunch at Burning Man. Who cares? If he wants to toss some sweaty, sand-covered salad in front of a crowd of costumed freakazoids, godspeed.

You know when you go to the beach and you bring a ham sandwich for lunch, and it gets a bit of sand in it, so when you’re chewing, it’s grainy and gritty and hammy all at once? Flume probably likes that, only substitute the ham sandwich for a double decker of dank dookie booty. And that’s okay! Let him and Elkington’s tush be!

We should be applauding his efforts in de-stigmatizing analingus. Yes, performing a rim job at a festival is empirically disgusting because of the sweat and dirt and overall griminess, but what is not disgusting is freedom—freedom to explore sexuality; freedom to consensually partake in sexual acts; freedom to learn through experience the specific top notes and combination flavors found within the folds of a desert-dipped, sweat-tinged ass.

We deserve to live, and we deserve to eat… ass or otherwise.

Sign up for our newsletter to get the best of VICE delivered to your inbox daily.

Alex Zaragoza is the senior culture writer at VICE. Follow her on Twitter.