The True Power of Balls Out Risk and Monumentally Fucking Up
I was thinking about the botched horror of the Fyre Festival the other day. This lead me to thinking about the Chicago Fire Festival, created by Red Moon Theatre, where the City spent a whole freaking truckload of money and, on the night of the event, no one could get anything lit on fire.
He was tired of carrying her weight. Her financial choices and responsibilities. Her alcoholism. And he knew she was tired of his drug abuse and laziness and porn addiction. And Train played. And the guy kept talking. “Thing is, man… if it weren’t for divorce, I’d have student loans.”