SUNDAY. I go home.

I have not seen THE CULT. Damn. No bands at all today. We have brunch. It is colossal and washed down with BACON VODKA shots. Amazing. I have not eaten in a while and this fried chicken, bacon waffles and jalapeno Eggs Benedict with BBQ pork and cheese muffins is perfect. Read that again.  Amazing.

All that remains is a session at the legendary Waterloo Records and a big pile of records. And sweets. Candy Grills, so I can be like A$AP Rocky.

I head to the airport. A$AP Rocky sits down at on the seat next to me. He and his “mob of violent thugs” are very nice gents. They are pissed off about the coverage they got. One suspects Vice wouldn’t have it any other way but I am not sure how many cans would need to be thrown at my head while I was working before I lost it. Whatever. A nine hour sit down is exactly what I want and exactly what I get. I am home. Emails, I have a few.

Will I go again next year? Yeah I reckon.