Drinkin' Beers and Killin' Deers - That's how I roll

Sometimes your greatest bungles, your monster truck-size fiascos are to remind you to have compassion for yourself. I'm letting Daytona Beach roll off my back. For sure a learning experience -- such as: don't try to work full-time, be distracted, seek out an apartment, finish a Sundance proposal, speak on a panel, find a shooter, book tickets, produce a film shoot, be in the film shoot, overcome your fear of getting gang raped by rowdy frat boys and truckers, and expect to pull off miraculously intimate access to subjects you don't know who are suspicious of cameras due to Girls Gone Wild or Borat, and get "great" material -- Try that for a weekend. In addition, my partner in crime is someone I barely know... recipe for disaster? I made it home in one piece, $1200 odd dollars later... for that I could have flown to Senegal... and kicked it on a real beach, with no trucks, no confederate flags, no frat boys.

BUT. I had to see it to believe. Had to live it to understand it. Had to drink Natty Light with Florida frat boys and scream off a balcony "show me your tits" in order to rise back up from the ashes...

you know how it is.