1000 internets to all the wonderful bands that played last night, hopefully you got to catch all of them and weren't just spending all your time on the line for the bathroom. One of my roommates said that toilet line must be what it's like to live in Hati, and at the risk of stirring up the Brooklyn Vegan hornet's nest again, I'm going to wholeheartedly agree with that. So when you see Bird Dog, thank him for letting you experience a piece of life in the Third World.
Hey did anyone find a camo shoulder bag? It had my notebook in it, I'm kind of bummed it's gone. Also because that means I need to buy a new one I guess? Uggggggggggh. I blame the introduction of Turbo Shandy to my drinking diet and the fact that at some point I was actually drinking coffee brandy straight out of the bottle.
I argued with someone as to whether or not Day One of the festival delivered on all the promises of the blog and then offered to make out with her just to make sure it did. Because bloggers = sexy. Regardless of my misadventures, I saw you all there, including you sketchy people who didn't want to be friendly, and you were all poor and beautiful and some of you were actually making out with each other. Way to go.

Did anyone have a moment with a guy or a girl thought you inextricably screwed up with him or her? Was there anything off about the night and you wish you had a chance to do it again? Well good news, there's a whole second day of music and sun and booze! It's like Bonnaroo in your backyard!
Tonight's outlandish promise: your intrepid correspondent actually manages to get his shoes off and fall asleep in his bed.
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