 Introduction FRIDAY, MARCH 9 Breaking Bread The Balcony at Iron Cactus What's 6'6" and bluish-orange? PB and WMF All hail Jish, Savior of Our Seats Lance Arthur, Master of Understated Elegance Hey, Macarena!! Blink, damn you! BLINK! Lounging at Lovejoy's SATURDAY, MARCH 10 Dignity. Always dignity. Ms. B, Miss M and Halcyon At Courtney & Lane's House Objects next to Ryan... SUNDAY, MARCH 11 The Halcyon Experience It's a beautiful page... Take off every zig! My audience with Abdul Fray Cafe Meeting the Monkey Sixfoot6 and Kinsey6 Into the Fray Praying to the Pumpkin Ow! Oh! Do it again! Touched by a monkey On the way to Katz's Deli Moist men in a mirror MONDAY, MARCH 12 Your ride is here, Mr. Graham! Dinner at Stubb's Later, at the bar... No, ma'am, he doesn't have ID Hot monkey love Monkey business Monkey in his natural habitat Dan, Dan, the billiard man Trouble with a capital "P" He's even better at air hockey For love of the game... Blame Canada. Last call at Stubb's Next time on Crossfire... Yeah, he looks innocent, but Uh-oh... ...and then the police showed up. TUESDAY, MARCH 13 The Adaptive Path Party Up on the roof Sweet as syrup... And then we called Firda WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14 Matt goes clicks-and-mortar Bart's Axe Bart's Other Axe Rock & Sex & Drugs & Roll Austin Civic Opera guitar Yes, those are real nails... An uncommon mirror shot Kilroy was here Hot, rotating, vertical pork  Comments or questions about this scrapbook? Do you have your own gallery of SXSW memories on the web you'd like to share? Interested in going next year? Drop me a line!
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 BackMy audience with AbdulForward 
 We are fortunate to live in a time when the gods walk among us. You can imagine my surprise and trepidation when, at the awards ceremony, the one and only Abdul the Great deigned to invite me to sit with he and his servant Ann in the audience. I was thrilled beyond belief to be in the presence of such obvious greatness and then, though I had brought no offering for the Swami, I was struck speechless when Ann said Abdul had brought a gift for me. When she handed me my very own Abdul the Great mousepad, I am not embarassed to tell you that I wept without restraint. After the awards, I managed to compose myself and pay proper homage to Swami Abdul, bowing and showering him with praise and thanking him repeatedly for his boundless generosity, of spirit and of mousepad. Although it may be impertinent to say, I had the feeling he wasn't really listening to me. His eyes kept darting to the awards table, and I could have sworn I heard him chanting "Mine, mine, mine" under his breath. Perhaps it was a mantra. As a humble supplicant, I probably should not speculate on the arcane and mysterious ways of Abdul the Great.
BackMy audience with AbdulForward
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