Sleeping in your car is one thing. Ruining your poorly constructed and quickly improvised costume is something you make peace with, and losing your friends comes with the territory. But throwing up in your friend’s bed? Shitting in a stranger’s bathtub? Hitchhiking home at 7 a.m.? Calling this weekend rough would be the understatement of the century — I saw it all. I’ll call it a victory, but it was close. Less people, more arrests. No cliff dives, less chaos. Thanks for a great weekend, pumpkin beer. Thanks for nothing, Foot Patrol.

Tomorrow’s Forecast: Pictures begin to surface. Untag, people. Untag like it’s your job.