God-Awful Geishas

Keeping things fresh on a reality TV show is difficult, but one of the best aspects of Ink Master is that since the show is based so heavily on artistry, they have almost limitless options. This week, for the Flash Challenge, only four artists would be competing…and only after they successfully sold themselves to their human canvasses.

Flash Challenge:  Composition

Erik Siuda won this one with a tree that the judges thought was clean, simple, and very well done.

Tree by Erik Siuda

Emily went the opposite route and created a fanciful hybrid of a tree and an octopus. It wasn’t a bad idea, especially since her canvas had some bizarre idea about a tree that was a hybrid of three or four others, something none of the artists even remotely understood.

Octotree by Eimly

Unfortunately the judges didn’t like the way she combined the two images, they saw it as two separate tattoos that were stacked onto each other with no real flow from one to the other.

Elimination Challenge:  This week, all of the canvasses wanted a Geisha, one of the strongest tests of an artist’s ability to compose an excellent tattoo. Japanese art is extremely meticulous, and the Geisha is even more difficult to pull off than the pin-up. To make matters worse, two of the female canvasses wanted their ribs done. Given command of skull assignments Erik tried to throw Josh under the bus, but like others before him, he underestimated Josh’s salesmanship. With ridiculous ease Josh got his canvas to switch placement, meaning he just had to prove that he can actually draw, a major complaint other artists had against him in Season 3. Unfortunately, all he managed to prove was that he still can’t draw.

Geisha by Josh Hubbard

It’s a beautiful tattoo that I would proudly wear, but it’s a reproduction of a photo he found on the internet. Also, the background doesn’t match the subject matter, something that I didn’t know until Chris Nunez pointed it out. That background was part of the composition, and that is what they were looking for.

Human Canvas Jury: The HCJ and the Judges agreed that this tattoo was an unreadable mess. It’s not that the line work was bad, or that the composition was off…it’s just that everything bleeds together into a dark mass of shadows.  Chris really blew it with this one, and he enraged his rival Angel Bauta by seemingly just giving up on the entire competition. When they returned to the loft to await the judging Angel ripped into him for not rising to the occasion. It was a curious turn of events that showed a new side of Angel, a turn that revealed how deeply he actually respects Chris and it was a nice change.

Geisha by Chris

Winner:  In a split decision Jason Clay Dunn took the victory, a major win for him since he claims Japanese as his comfort zone.

Geisha by Jason Clay Dunn

His closest competitor was Cleen Rock One who turned in this beauty.  The best part of it is how she looks like she is wearing makeup because of how he shaded the drawing, not because he used white ink. Very well done.

Geisha by Cleen Rock One

Someone had to close shop, however, and this time it was Tim who found himself on the bottom for the last time. He is a decent artist, but he cannot turn in his best work under the relentless pressure of this competition, and that means he has to go.

Geisha by Tim

Head-to-Head Games

Flash Challenge:  Lines

This week’s flash challenge involved Flash Tape, a chemically treated tape pyrotechnic that was used to burn an image into an 8’ X 8’ canvas. Everyone would work in teams, and Josh Hibbard, the winner of the previous Elimination Challenge, would be the one assigning the skulls. It’s just the sort of game he loves to play, and he didn’t disappoint. Josh paired up all of the rivals, except for Julia and Ty’esha whose rivals have already gone home. With 90 minutes to design and execute, the challenge was to see how well the teams could make clean, straight lines.


In what was a pleasant surprise, the two most vicious rivals, brothers Robbie and Jayvo, came together to make one of the best images. Simple, but there is an elegance in simplicity that some of the artists forgot about.Robbie and Jayvo

Another team that was able to overcome their mutual hatred was Emily Elegado and Aaron Is who maximized their use of space and took the win easily.

Diamond Star by Emily and Aaron

The most ridiculous work went to Ty’esha and Julia who made the baffling choice to do the absolute minimum necessary for the challenge. Then they decided to really fuck it up.

Wasted Canvas by Tyesha and Julia

Oliver Peck left no doubt that their decision to place the fuse line at the BOTTOM of the anchor, instead of the TOP of the anchor so it looked like a rope was incredibly stupid. This poor decision would come back to haunt them because Emily (one of the most annoying artists ever to appear on the show) was now in a position to hand out skulls for the Elimination Challenge. Their only saving grace was that she would have to make these decisions with the help of her rival Aaron.

Elimination Challenge: Joined by special guest judge BJ Betts, one of the best tattoo artists in the Delaware Valley, the panel was going to be looking for an artist’s ability to ink up clean, ornamental tattoos. And every artists went head-to-head with someone else in an apples-to-apples comparison since all of the canvasses came in pairs in terms of desired design.

Not surprisingly, Josh Hibbard delivers another knockout tattoo. His lines were so clean that BJ actually said they looked like they were lasered on.

Mandala by Josh Hibbard

Human Canvas Jury: They had a tough call to make, and they picked one that the judges agreed was definitely on the bottom.  Eric had a difficult placement, but ultimately it was his linework that took him to the bottom. Still, he wasn’t the one who was sent home.

Lotus by Eric

The tiny irregularities in this owl got Jayvo sent home. It was sad, especially since I personally thought that Emily should have been sent packing. Better luck next time, I guess.

Owl by Jayvo

When the season started I was less than enthused about the Ink Rivals theme that the showrunners had selected. The idea was that rivalries would be settled via elimination as the artists were pitted against each other in apples-to-apples comparison challenges. It seems like this loss may finally heal the bitter rift between him and his brother Robbie.




Roughed-Up Pin-Ups

Guest Judge:  Joe Miangenella

Flash Challenge:  Living Dolls

The artists were assigned a random model, each with her own props, that was going to be body-painted into a pin-up. Our special guest judge, El Cid from HBOs True Blood, was on hand to lend his expertise as an authority on looking amazing. Artistry was the watchword for this challenge, and Jason Clay Dunn stole the fucking show.

Daisy Dukes by Jason Clay Dunn Daisy Dukes 2 by Jason Clay Dunn

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of the contest. They then had to use their airbrushed models as a reference for an actual pin-up tattoo. Good or bad, you had to use your own work as reference for something that wasn’t just going to wash off.

The winning tattoo, by a unanimous decision, went to Josh Hibbard who was in the bottom on Pin-Up day in Season 3. Whether you like him or don’t like him, you have to admit the guy puts in the hours and learns from his mistakes. The judges never slam him for the same mistake twice.

Firewoman by Josh Hibbard

Human Canvas Jury:  The human canvasses talked it over and they were as dissatisfied as the regular judges were, overall.  Too many of these Pin-Ups were just awful, really sub-par work by experienced artists who clearly don’t feel comfortable with the genre. The worst part of this experience, was that each artist on the bottom was joined by their rival at the Elimination Ceremony.

Ultimately it was a unanimous decisions that LT, the least experienced artist this season, had to go.

Pinup by LT

Fixing this tattoo is going to be close to impossible, and that is an unforgivable sin.

Who Needs Law School?

Recently I reported on Internet cause célèbre Ross Ulbricht, allegedly Dread Pirate Robers, founder and leader of online black market The Silk Road. Hailed by Libertarians far and wide as a hero fighting The Man, Ulbricht has been accused of building a website whose express purpose was to sell illegal items, including but not limited to, drugs. Ross’s mother Lyn Ulbricht recently appeared at Libertarian celebration Porcfest where she gave a speech about her son, then an interview where she spoke about the horrors that would be visited upon the citizenry of America should her son be convicted.


The narrator (presumably the person who interviewed Mrs. Ulbricht) says “This case is the birth of law for the digital future. Watch it as a spectator at your peril. How will the results affect everyone’s future regarding the Internet, liability, privacy, and Bitcoin?” and the response is, as you would expect, highly hyperbolic.

Mrs. Ulbricht believes that this case will set some sort of precedent whereby the Government will now begin to intrude on people’s freedom on the Internet, which would be an incredible leap from their existing behaviour of respecting people’s privacy online. And we don’t want that, now do we?

She goes on to argue that her son should not be held responsible for what people used the Silk Road for since he only hosted the web site, he didn’t sell any contraband himself. That means her little boy is protected under the Communications Decency Act which prevents website operators (like Facebook, for instance) from being held liable if a user posts something illegal on the site (like a death threat against the President, for example.) Further, Mrs. Ulbricht believes (likely as a result of attorney Joshua Dratel’s advice) that money laundering charges don’t apply here because bitcoin isn’t money! Check-and-MATE motherfucker!

Law school, bitch!

Law school, bitch!

Now, I am not a lawyer myself, so Mr. Dratel definitely has a leg up on me there. I have watched a shit ton of cop shows on TV, however. Not so much the courtroom dramas, but I still like to think that I have a fairly firm grasp on the fundamentals of the US legal system. So after I found this video posted up on Reddit, I decided to post my views on it.

  1. The TOR scare isn’t very valid. The government developed TOR and they know who uses it (lawyers, journalists, corporations) and why they use it (to protect State Secrets, corporate Intellectual Property, to protect journalistic sources, etc) so saying “And if you use TOR the gubment is going to call you a criminal!” is spurious. That will just be added as evidence along with other behaviors you engage in to build a case. Using TOR by itself means nothing.
  2. If I exchange a kilo of cocaine for a Cadillac El Dorado I cannot say in my defense “No money changed hands!” because that is a ridiculous argument. I am still trafficking in contraband and it doesn’t matter what I exchanged it for. If, however, I make the exchange for a precious commodity like gold or bitcoin, then money laundering charges may apply, especially if the commodity in question is sold for fiat currency. NOTE: That does not mean I agree that cocaine should be illegal, but I don’t have the power to change that law.
  3. Ross Ulbricht cannot say he cannot be held responsible for people selling drugs on his website since his website was designed to facilitate the sale of drugs. Further, since he held money in escrow for both parties, that makes him an accessory before and after the fact.

This counts as studying for the bar, right?

A few hours later, after interviewing one of the founders of 21st Century car service Beepi, I decided to swing by Wired.com to see what was happening. Turns out, there was an update on the Ross Ulbricht case:  Judge Katherine Forrest issued a 51 page ruling declining to dismiss all charges against Mr. Ulbricht, presumably while trying to keep a straight face in light of the ridiculous reasons offered by Mr. Dratel.

Among the charges she refused to dismiss were: narcotics trafficking conspiracy, money laundering, and hacking conspiracy charges, as well being charged with “continuing a criminal enterprise” better known as the “kingpin” statute used to prosecute criminal gang and cartel leaders.

Filed in April, the motion to dismiss raised interesting questions: Can Ulbricht be accused of running a drug-selling conspiracy when he merely ran a website that made the narcotics sales possible? And can he be charged with money laundering when bitcoin doesn’t necessarily meet the requisite definition of money?’

Judge Forrest apparently watched the same TV shows I did (not sure if she watched them while at law school or home) because her answer was yes and yes . Every argument was rejected (probably with “DUH” interjected every so often) starting with the idea that Ulbricht had merely provided a platform for hosting the Silk Road’s e-commerce, just like eBay or Craigslist.

“Silk Road was specifically and intentionally designed for the purpose of facilitating unlawful transactions, Ulbricht is alleged to have knowingly and intentionally constructed and operated an expansive black market for selling and purchasing narcotics and malicious software and for laundering money. This separates Ulbricht’s alleged conduct from the mass of others whose websites may—without their planning or expectation—be used for unlawful purposes.”

Dratel, had attempted to make the case that if anything, the Silk Road should be covered by a law known as the “Crack House Statute.” Passed in 1986, the law was created to hold landlords accountable for knowingly owning a property where drug deals were taking place. Dratel reasoning went along the lines that this law would be unnecessary if the more serious narcotics charges in his client’s case applied.

Forrest, however, countered that Ulbricht is accused of being much more than a negligent landlord. By allegedly designing the Silk Road to maximize user anonymity via Tor and bitcoin, she argues that he had invited drug dealers onto the property.

“Ulbricht’s alleged conduct is more akin to a builder who designs a house complete with secret entrances and exits and specially designed traps to stash drugs and money, This is not an ordinary dwelling, but a drug dealer’s ‘dream house.’”

She also noted that Ulbricht is accused of working to organize, control, and take a commission from all sales on the Silk Road—the kind of behavior that would make him an active participant.

“The allegations amount to Ulbricht acting as a sort of ‘godfather’—determining the territory, the actions which may be undertaken, and the commissions he will retain; disciplining others to stay in line; and generally casting himself as a leader – and not a service provider.”

Law SCHOOLED, bitch!

So far, I’m doing okay here, right?  The Judge and I agree that you cannot create a platform for the express purpose of creating criminal activity, then say “Holy shit, I didn’t believe anyone was actually going to DO it!  Although I made sure they understood they had to pay me a cut of the action if they DID decide to do it!” 

What about the bitcoin isn’t money, argument, though?  Both FINCEN and the IRS say it isn’t, but I have argued that barter still counts since the IRS will tax you regardless. Well, according to Judge Forrest, barter still counts when you are conducting drug deals.

“Sellers using Silk Road are not alleged to have given their narcotics and malicious software away for free – they are alleged to have sold them. The money laundering statute is broad enough to encompass use of Bitcoins in financial transactions. Any other reading would—in light of Bitcoins’ sole raison d’etre—be nonsensical.”

Apparently owning this makes you a paralegal.

This ruling is going to have a tremendous impact for a few other people, starting with Charlie Shrem, the former Bitcoin Foundation vice chairman who was arrested last January and charged money laundering for helping a Silk Road client exchange his bitcoins for cash. And of course, Cody Wilson who told a reporter for Wired magazine that DarkWallet is “money laundering software” because there’s no possible way for statements like that to come back and bite him in the ass.

And to ensure that no one took him out of context, Wilson went on to say “I want a private means for black market transactions, whether they’re for non-prescribed medical inhalers, MDMA for drug enthusiasts, or weapons.”

That’s a bold attitude, and one that I have no trouble admitting that I can admire. The question, however, is can he keep it up when the police are knocking on his door?

My 1st Trip to the High Times Cannabis Cup

As you may, or may not be aware, I have recently begun to make a name for myself as a journalist. After visiting Dogecon SF I began writing and publishing articles on cryptocurrency in general, and on Potcoin in particular. I chose Potcoin because I’m a cannabis enthusiast, and because it seemed like an interesting concept, a crypto devoted to a specific industry. So, when I heard that reps from the Potcoin Dev team would be attending the San Francisco Cannabis Cup, sponsored by High Times, I figured it would be a good idea to put in an appearance.

The legendary event.

The clincher on the deal was that Russell Thomas, the Chief Information Officer of Potcoin extended me a personal invitation to hang out at Booth 42, the Potcoin tent. Naturally I couldn’t resist, and I resolved to head on out and check on the festivities. First things first, however, I had to head to Oakland and get my recently-expired medical authorization renewed.

I checked the Google for the closest doctor and found the closest one that was open at 9:30 am on a Saturday. After gathering my camera and assorted gear, I moved out to go see the Doctor. The lobby was pretty straightforward, a mostly vacant space with a few pen-and-ink drawings on the wall, some cannabis-related magazines on a rack, and one or two business cards left behind for potential customers. Strangely, one of them was for a Chevy dealership. Not surprisingly, the reverse side of the card displayed a 2014 Camaro, an indication of the clientele they intend to attract, I suppose.

If no one in this photo owns a Camaro I will be shocked.

There were four other people waiting, a male-female couple and a pair of twenty-something men, all of whom were in town for the Cannabis Cup. While I waited for my opportunity to see the doctor I struck up conversation with the two young men and learned they were glass merchants who had developed a bong that also served as a drink dispenser. I handed them a business card and told them to give me a call when we all got to the Cup.

Then it was my turn to  see the doctor and I must say, now I understand why no one takes California’s Medical Marijuana laws seriously. My patient information form only had the bare minimum questions on it (presumably for my protection) and the Doctor was seen via a Skype call on a laptop set up on a desk in the treatment office.

The doctor couldn’t make it, you see, as he was driving at the time. Fortunately he kept his hands on the wheel during out two minute conversation where he asked me about my medical condition (back pain), and whether cannabis worked for my pain or not.

And that quickly I was authorized by a medical doctor here in California to use cannabis as a medical treatment. Welcome to the 21st Century.

Well, not really, but still.

The next step was to make the 90 minute drive to the Sonoma County Fairgrounds and the famous High Times Cannabis Cup. I didn’t have a ticket, but that wasn’t going to be a problem since Russ had a spare vendor pass that he was going to use to help me gain entry. After arriving on-site I gave him a call, but had to leave a message on his cell. Not trusting cell phone reception, I decided to go talk to one of the people at the Will Call booth. A few minutes of charm later, and I was entering the fairgrounds, seeking out booth 42.

Upon entering the Fairgrounds I learned that there were two separate areas, the outer ring and an inner ring dubbed the Medicated Area. One thing that I didn’t notice at the time, and would come into play later in this story, is that pretty much all of the food vendors were OUTSIDE the Medicated Area. And none of the places INSIDE the Medicated Area were selling anything that wasn’t pot-related, especially water.

Finding the Potcoin tent wasn’t especially hard, and after I introduced myself they told me that Russ had already left looking for me. Checking my phone I wasn’t overly surprised to learn that (once again) it had failed me, and there were no missed calls. (Thanks AT&T, keep up the good work.)

Pretty much sums it up.

A few minutes later Russ was back on scene, and he immediately busied himself handing out Potcoin T-shirts and Potcards loaded with 100 units each. The tent was pretty busy, so while Russ was handling customer service, I decided to go get some water. IT was a good idea, unfortunately I should have thought of it a lot sooner.

Within minutes of exiting the relatively cool shaded area underneath the Potcoin pavillion I found myself back in the heat and suddenly, without warning, I found that I was lost. And thirsty.

I have been trained in the military, and I studied martial arts for three years, I know how important proper hydration is. And yet, for some bizarre reason, I hadn’t had a single drop of water since I left my house at 10 am, four hours earlier. And suddenly, I had a stronger thirst than I have ever known in my entire life.

Everything had become a blur, my mind was focused on one task, finding water. My lips were shrinking, I could feel them drying out, shrinking against my face as I searched for WATER, the only thing on earth that had any importance to me any longer.  My brain decided that maybe I wasn’t fully focused the task at hand, so it provided me with some assistance, an auditory hallucination that wouldn’t have seemed out of place in the Boondocks.

She was more like a female Robert Freeman, but you get the idea.

I cannot stress enough how serious I am, this may sound funny, but I was fucking hallucinating. A 60+ year old crazy black cartoon grandma set up shop in my head and encouraged me to FIND WATER. She made absolutely sure that I did not stop moving, stop searching for that precious resource.

Through the haze I spotted a red and yellow wagon that promised to sell Giant Corn Dogs and, while I couldn’t give less than a fuck about those under normal circumstances, right at that moment they were simply an indication that I could find WATER there. After all, if they are selling food, they must have beverages, right?  Working on this logic I immediately moved to this Shrine of Salvation and, as politely as I could, asked for water.

You’re goddamn right.


Gauging by the reaction I received from the useless shitbags inside the place you would have thought I asked for a vodka tonic or a bag of meth.  They did not immediately react, is what I’m getting at. So I had to ask again, making sure they understood that if I did not get water, I was going to DIE. In fact, the exact phrase I used was “If you do not give me some water, right now, I will die. I am in an advanced state of dehydration.”

Maybe I should have asked for that vodka tonic, I don’t know. What I do know is, that after first telling me there was no water to be found, someone (they didn’t have faces) managed to procure one of those 4 ounce clear plastic cups and filled it from a tap that was part of a stainless steel sink.

Without fear of contradiction I will tell you that water immediately saved my fucking life. As soon as it touched my parched, shriveled lips and tongue, I could feel my body absorbing it and refreshing itself. It wasn’t ENOUGH, however, and the voice in my head kept exhorting me to get more, as much as I could possibly drink. So I asked for another cup of water and…the fucking shithead inside panicked and ran off leaving his fat, idiotic partner to deal with the crazy person who was babbling about being dehydrated and imminent danger of death.


Typical crackhead behavior, I imagine.

This is where the story becomes truly surreal. Please keep in mind that, despite the fact that I was so disoriented that I couldn’t find the food area, and disregarding the cartoon voice in my head, I was still conscious enough to know that I was a heat casualty and needed immediate aid. The first thing I required, the most immediate and simplest form of first aid, was a CUP OF FUCKING WATER.

Apparently this was not covered in employee training, so the fat sack of shit inside that corn dog booth was panicking, trying to find a way to escape from this conversation without having to refill my fucking plastic cup of water. The voice in my head suggested that I climb through the window, throw this worthless pile of shit out of the way, and drink directly from the tap. A more rational part of me (not sure if it was a second voice or just primal instinct) over-ruled this incredibly appealing advice, and I just tried to rationally explain to this person that if I did not get water in the next five minutes I was going to die. This, to me, seemed like the most likely outcome and I had no problem sharing this observation because, dumbass that I am, I figured it would be a simple problem to solve.

Corn Dog says “I just started here today…I’m not authorized to make any decisions.”

“That’s fine,” I replied with the sort of calm you are only capable of when you are hallucinating and believe your life is in imminent danger. “You don’t have to make any decisions. You just have to give me some WATER.”

This did not have the desired effect, I’m sorry to say, and he just fucking babbled some idiocy about his co-worker or security or some shit. Which was fine with me, because at that moment the only thing that would have pleased me more than the Police arriving would have been getting a fucking cup of water.

While this conversation is going on, my fingers were pulsating with the flow of my blood. At least, I assume that is why they were pulsating, maybe it was because the water in my tissues was boiling from the heat of the sun, I wasn’t really sure at the time, and now I don’t know if it actually happened.

A voice behind me indicated that some form of help had arrived and I turned to find someone in a yellow t-shirt, Event Security. This Angel of Mercy looked me in the eye and said “You have to calm down, you’re creating a disturbance.”

Fair enough, I can see how that might have been problematic for them. So I explained to her that I was in a state of advanced dehydration and I needed WATER right NOW.

To which she replied that, sure, I could have all the water I needed. I just needed to leave this area.

Fuck that.

I knew that if I moved before EMT showed up, I was going to die. So I began asking for water, and some lady walking by thrust a nearly empty bottle of water into my hands (thank you, Kind Lady, whoever you are) and I drank it immediately and went back to asking for more. Another kind (albeit stupid) lady hands me a 20 oz cup full of lemonade because apparently she thought fuck it, one beverage is pretty much like another right?

WRONG. Sugar will only make dehydration WORSE, never give someone who is dehydrating a caffeine or sugar beverage.

Seeing that I wasn’t going to leave and cease imploring people for goddamn WATER (the drug of choice for psychotics the world over) Ms. Yellow Shirt leaves me alone and some guy in his 50s comes along to talk me down.

“Thank you, can you get me some water?  I am going to die if I don’t get some water NOW.” I said as clearly, and patiently, as I could.

“I understand,’ he replies in the most folksy way he could. “You just need to be more quiet.”

The voice in my head advised I knock him the fuck out and try persuading Corn Dog of how important this situation was, but I didn’t listen to her. Instead I looked Tom Skerritt right in the eye and (as calmly as I could) told him “No, you clearly do NOT understand. If you DID understand, you would be getting me some fucking water right now.”

“Sir, are you okay?”  a new voice asked.

Now thoroughly lost I turned to find a group of people in blue t-shirts (and matching ball caps) but I wasn’t 100% sure if they were real or not. So, erring on the side of caution, I decided that they were real and told them “No, I am not. I am suffering from advanced dehydration. I need water, now.”

There were four of them, all just watching me quietly. Still, they were wearing blue not yellow, so they seemed legit. Later, when my senses were recovered I would see that they also had red first aid emblems on their gear also, but at the moment I was too busy feeling the pulse of my rapidly shriveling limbs to keep track of things like that.

“Come with us, we’ll take you to the First Aid tent.” one of these Blue Angels said to me.

“Are you really medical people or are you just some fake thing?” I asked numbly as I followed them, my body moving on autopilot.

“No, we’re real.” One of the others, now invisible to me, replied. Maybe it was another voice in my head, I reasoned, but fuck it. It could have been a hallucination, but since it looked like a normal human being and not a nude super model, that didn’t seem altogether likely.

As I followed the man in blue, I saw him make a sudden, crisp left turn and I felt a sudden surge of despair. His path had been so straight, so certain, and this turn so abrupt…where was he taking me?  Was he ditching us?  No, as it turns out, he was leading me right to the Promised Land, a pavilion with folding medical tables.

“Oh, you weren’t leaving us, you were leading us…” I babbled at him in wonder. “Such a minor difference in spelling. And yet, it makes all the difference in the world.”

This is where the story returns to being boring since all these kind, wonderful people did was give me a 20 ounce cup of water and let me drink it in the shade. Then, when I finished that, they gave me another one. Truly, these people were Angels sent down to earth.

The new symbol of Hope as far as I’m concerned.

As they watched over me they tested my faculties with various questions, and checked my vitals. During this period I could feel my legs and arms replenishing themselves from that glorious paper cup emblazoned with the Pepsi logo filled with that sweet, satisfying WATER. Sure, I couldn’t stand without falling over due to a combination of dizziness and lack of water in my limbs, but that situation wasn’t going to last much longer. The pulsing in my fingers, calves, and ankles was subsiding as my body absorbed all of that moisture so I was feeling much better.

Before I left the area I made sure to thank them for their courteous, professional manner then I headed off to get some food, and more water. I made my way back to the Potcoin tent, but I was still seriously fucked up from the lack of water so I didn’t hang out long.

I guess the moral of this story is that I love crypto so much I’m willing to die for it. Just kidding, the moral of the story is to make sure you DRINK WATER, thirsty or not.

Your life could depend on it.