I threw on my poncho that I apparently haven’t worn since Sasquatch because I found the lineup brochure and a flower that a wore nestled in the pocket. Kell gave me a horrified look and insisted that I wash it immediately. I mean, I’m not sure what kind of drunken shenanigans I got myself into while wearing it. There was too much Canadian conversing, wine drinking, and dancing to remember. All the nights were a blur.
I’m taking this as a sign that I must return for 2012.
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