My annual trek to the Telluride Film Festival beckons, which means I won't be posting in the next few days. Despite the fact that the organizers haven't yet sent me my laminated pass, I'm feeling a keen sense of euphoria and pee-inducing excitement. Who knows what adventures await me? Will I once again be yelled at by an incensed Charlotte Rampling after I selfishly plop my ass into the seat directly in front of her? Will I once again find myself stalking Mark Ruffalo while waiting in line for a film? Could my precious penis once again gain proximity to the withered penis of UK filmmaker Mike Leigh while standing next to him at a theater urinal? Both me and my penis will tell all upon my return.
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