Done...

Festival over. We probably broke even, although, we'll probably never know for sure. Our accounting practices are, um, shoddy. Or at least, suspect. I find it hard to believe that this was our sixth year. Everything goes fast.

The Bay Area was fun to visit, sort of. It's fun to have access to things that you don't have at home. And on the other hand, the Bay Area is a gigantic pain in the ass populated (mostly) by people who, through constant exposure to stress and competition, have been transformed in to complete assholes. Honestly, is it really THAT great or are you just so afraid of change and so good at deluding yourself that you are willing to pay half a million dollars for a studio condo? Answer? B. Fine. If it keeps you from moving here, good. Oh, and to the guy who yelled at me to get to the back of the line at the coffee shop, when, in fact, I was just reaching over the counter to pick up my order which I had placed earlier: FUCK YOU you sactimonious piece of shit. You're lucky I didn't knock out every one of those pretty teeth that you paid so much for. I hope I guessed right when I keyed the Jaguar in front.

Really, there are only two rules to live by:

1. Expect the best from people and you'll usually get it.
2. You never know who you're fucking with, so don't.

Simple.

Wow. Reading this back, I sound angry. I'm not.